Personal Narrative: My Experience As A Mexican-American Student

Coming from a Mexican immigrant family I have learned to recognize since a very young age that because of the status that my parents are placed in they cannot pursue a better future like the one I want. I have been given the opportunity to challenge myself with obtaining a higher education than just high school itself. My parents have demonstrated to me through their hard work that I have to value this opportunity unless I want to end up with low paying job. My life long dedication comes from seeing my parents make sacrifices in order for my education to continue.

Welcome. A single word on the carpet by the door greets me whenever I come home. There had been times where that one word made my heart beat and cry with joy. But not now, for many things changed through the years. Now when I look at this carpet, I instead question back: ‘Do you really mean that?’

My story would have never begun if my parents had not made a huge decision in my life, almost 15 years ago. When they decided to move our family across the border, my future would be become unknown. The fate I had been destined to have was completely altered, now, I had the opportunity to change my life for the better, to strive for something bigger. My parents pushed me to be the best I could be, and to work as hard as possible to get what I wanted. As the daughter of two Mexican immigrants I grew up in a very cultural household, and being surrounded by Spanish at all times. The only negative being I had to learn English on my own, and which led to me having some difficulty when I first started school. Yet, growing up in a Spanish speaking

My parents always wanted to give their children the life they never had. I am Mexican-American, both of my parents immigrated from Mexico to the U.S. before I was born. I have numerous relatives, including my older sister, who do not have the same opportunities I have to achieve success because they are undocumented. For them, college was only a dream that could never be attained. Being the first U.S. citizen out of my entire family affected the way I thought about life. It was expected that I would attend college because I was the only one who had access to all the resources granted to American citizens. Although, I agreed with my family, the pressure to succeed and be a role model to my younger siblings was overwhelming.

It was summer of 2010. My parents were still married and we went up to Wichita Falls, Wichita to go see my brother Chris who was in the Military on base working. We stayed there for a week. I still remember the car ride up there. We rented a van, we had tvs in the rented van, my sister Rylee, my other brother Garrett (he was in the military too), my mom Traci, and my dad Doug, and my brothers military bag it was like a person. I still remember I had to sit in the back with that bad it was so big. Garrett put the seatbelt around the bag like it was a person. The car trip was so long but it was all worth it in the end. It was in the middle of the week and we were out on the beach. My brother Chris and his pregnant wife Ashley had a boat the water

Leaving home at the age of 18, loving on my own, figuring how to become an adult, and moving out to college, there were many things being thrown at me in which I was not fully prepared for them. Moving out at 18 is normal for any high school graduate in The United States. Being a Mexican American women it was more than just the net step to life , but a huge accomplishment. Being ascribed into a poor family increased the desire to move forward. My parents did not want me to follow their footsteps into the world of low waged labor, they wanted more. Growing up all I heard from teachers and family members was to go to college. For many it’s the normal thing for a high school graduate to do. For me it was more than socialization it was the path

I am fluent in both Spanish and English, I am also well aware of the Latino-American experience in the United States. I have been raised in the Los Angeles area since the age of seven and thus, I am particularly sensitive to my Latino/Latina (Hispanic) patients, and their unique medical needs. In the most practical terms, I will be able to reach out to my Latino/a patients in their native language, and thereby increasing the accuracy of treatment, reducing error and increasing my patients sense of importance and relevance in their healing process. Chiropractic medicine would provide me with the balance between the holistic approach to the patient care, a complete understanding of the physiology and biomechanics of the body, and a constant observation

Growing up, I barely heard the early 2000’s hits blasting from the car radio; instead, Marc Anthony would always serenade us. Growing up, Christmas day didn’t begin Christmas morning; instead Christmas day began Christmas Eve night. Growing up, I didn’t dismiss my heritage; instead, I embraced it. My Latino background defines who I am. Surging throughout my body, my Puerto Rican and Salvadoran heritage has shaped me into the person I am today.

I am Mexican-American. It took me years to finally be able to say that with a sincere feeling of pride. Both of my parents were born in Mexico and moved here before they had a chance to attend college, so my entire life I’ve been exposed to both Mexican culture and American culture. Instead of seeing my multi-cultured world as unique and special, I saw it as a sort of disadvantage, but as time went on and I became more educated on the successes of Mexican-Americans, I had a newfound understanding and appreciation of the culture which consequentially influenced my future aspirations.

Criss-cross applesauce I sat upon the rock with the Froggy book upon my lap. The afternoon sunlight hitting upon the pages and illuminating the text. Eyes wandering left, right, up, and down as I see the boy running through the grass and getting on his bike to roam through the rocky driveway. I dare not leave my spot for the sake of his safety and remain seated, opening my backpack to start on the vocabulary words assigned for English class that week. The words of my mother from the morning are in the back of my mind, ¨Llegó pronto y cuida mucho a tu hermanito, te quiero mucho.¨

Growing up Mexican-American is similar to living a dual-identity. It feels as if I’m stuck in-between a border where I am unsure if I’m more American or more Mexican. Mexican-Americans have to live a life of proving themselves to the world. Am I Mexican enough to my family and am I American enough to the people of the United States.This idea was new to me even though I had been living with this.

I never knew my dad was illegally in the United States until he was arrested by U.S Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Everything happened so fast, and before I knew it my whole life was changing. One day I was having a pizza date with my dad, and a few days later I was in the car on a 3 hour drive to the Tacoma Northwest Detention Center to say goodbye to him as he awaited his deportation to Mexico. My father's deportation has been the hardest thing I have ever had to go through. It has brought on emotional hardships and financial struggles, which, has brought on challenges regarding my education.

Having been raised in a single parent household from a young age, I developed a strong work ethic. Watching my mother struggle at times raising my brother and me has helped me to see how essential it is to have a college education to achieve my ultimate goal in life, which is to become a psychiatrist and assist those in struggles similar to the ones I’ve faced.

I chose my immigrant participant from a personal perspective, yet not knowing much about him. Last year, my first year teaching, I had a little boy in my class that was Latino, very shy and quite. He struggled in reading and writing and after meeting with his parents and ESOL teacher several times, the decision was made to retain him in first grade. His parents, especially dad was hesitant about the decision, and began to tell small glimpses of how his son was very much like him, shy, and scared to reach out because of the language barrier. There was never much elaborated on, but I could tell that dad had possibly been in a similar situation before. This year, I was lucky enough to have this same child in my first grade class again. After receiving

I was raised in a close-knit family household, which has left me with great memories and many stories, but I have also had first hand experience the troublesome transition of Mexican immigrant parents to America. However, the trajectory my of success my parents have had without any resources has encouraged and impacted me greatly to go out and help those in need, because everyone has the potential of greatness. Even though I didn't always have the dolls, clothes, home, or shoes I wanted, I was too busy to mind, because school academics and dance have been a passion of mine since I was smaller; it fills my heart with joy every time I am part of these things. Besides, having two brothers made everyday something special, and I still love taking