Personal Narrative : My Immigrant Story

Students in South Korea take their education very seriously. Eric described their school system as a “pressure cooker”. “rigor mattered, koreans understood that mastering difficult academic content was important. They didn’t take shortcuts.”(pg.116) These students have to compete with each other in order to get accepted into the most prestigious colleges. Not only do students attend school from seven in the morning to three in the afternoon, they also have to attend hagwons which are private tutors after school. They study at least twelve hours a day to make sure they get the best grades.

A few years ago, I was with my family, walking the streets in New York, on our way to buy dinner. My mom had given me and each of my brothers ten dollars to spend on money. As we were walking, I noticed a man. He was sleeping on the side of a wall, a torn blanket covered his chest. His hair looked ungroomed

I am an immigrant, originating from Ukraine. I moved here three years ago to take advantage of the “land of the free”. I had heard of the conscription under Russian imperial dictators, such as Tzar Nicolas, and Soviet despots, like Stalin. Fourcing an individual to perform a service, regardless of the cause, seems to be slavery to me. When I found that men in America must register for the draft, in my eyes, “the land of the free” became slightly less free. It is abhorrent that men may be required to enlist in the military, and equally so for women and therefore should not be tied to feredal grants.

Looking back to the past, before I was born, I never really knew where my ancestors came from or why they even came here in the first place. It was never made a big deal in my family to talk about our history and the reasons why they came to American. So, I decided to do a little research and find out a little bit about myself, my culture, and my communication styles. I asked for a little bit of help from my grandmothers from each side of my family. I got an abundance of information that opened my eyes to a new past that I didn’t even know about.

Today, I witnessed a young woman with her little daughter dropped multiple hundred bills in the parking lot prior to getting in her car. An associate saw the woman dropped her money and tried to get her attention, but was successful, so he puts the money in his pocket. I instantly approached the woman and briefly told her what I just witnessed. She asked me to go back to the store with her to vouch for her to the store manager. I agreed. Once we informed the store manager and confronted the associate who put the money inside his pocket instead of reporting it to security or his manger. She was able to procure her money back. Then, she told me I was a life saver. The woman explained to me she just got laid and really needed the money to support

They say the winter is a metaphor for solitude; however, my winter was everything but solitary. I longed for Christmas Carols and holiday cheer, instead I got the sound of doors slamming and children fighting. I expected normal; my mom, my dad, and my brother. Instead I received my mom, my dad, my brother, aunt, and three cousins in a sardine packed house.

This is a very interesting story. I am glad that she got to experience how the real life for most of us is, and how sometimes we only work to pay rent and bills. I myself can relate to that with my family. We came here in 2006, and my as an immigrant my mom had to work in whatever she could find, just to be able to pay rent and give me food. This is the reason why I go to school, to better myself, and to be able to get a job that I enjoy doing, and that it will give me a good paycheck. Honestly I feel bad for many people because, it is very hard to live in this country while getting paid minimum wage, but this is why we have to sacrifice ourselves and go to school to become someone.

There were so many different possibilities to expect. She didn’t know whether to be excited or scared. One thing was for sure; she was definitely anxious. And the taxi driver dropping her off at the house of the kids she was babysitting for the summer was driving dangerously fast, which did nothing to ease her ever-growing nerves.

The purpose for writing this narrative is to demonstrate the things that influenced me in the past to become the person who I am today. Adapting to a new culture and struggling in academics is not something I only experienced. There are many immigrant students that give up school because they can not adapt the academic challenges or the differences in the school culture. My story can be inspiring to many young immigrant students to strive for success. I went to diverse high school where immigrants are a significant portion of the student body. One of my 10th grade friend had dropped out of school simply because the subjects were too challenging for him and his perception of being a student and an immigrant. He used to think immigrant students

I was born in Irapuato Guanajuato Mexico on August 1. I lived in Mexico until I was four years old. At the age of five I received my residency and came to live in America. When I got here I lived in Atlanta Georgia and started school at Kanoheda Elementary School. I attended Kanoheda from kindergarten to second grade. While I was at Kanoheda I had an ESOL class where they taught me the English language and helped me with grammar skills. After second grade I never attended another ESOL class and was able to become fluent in English. When I was going to start third grade I moved to Summerville South Carolina. I was at Oakbrook Elementary for one year and then transferred to Knigtsville in the fourth grade. After I finished fifth grade I went

My poor and uneducated mother immigrated to the United States in two thousand one and brought me along at the age of four where she knew I would have a viable opportunity of becoming something more than what our poverty stricken, gang ridden country could offer. My father in a cruel gesture named me Leo without my mother's approval, for he figured a hypocoristic name would allow me, a future illiterate, to at least write my own name. A decade later after experiencing variations of homelessness, hunger, medical conditions, and gunshots outside of our home, my mother remarried, and gave birth to my brother who has been a blessing in disguise. After my mother's short-lived marriage we struggled financially once again; however this time we were

Life is a consistent movement. People have experienced their childhood in a wide range of neighborhoods, schools, and with individuals from a wide range of foundations. One’s surroundings during their childhood make quite a bit of their identity today considering where they grew up. Through the greater part of the adjustments throughout one’s life, or maybe as a result of them, one has to keep up and gain a one of a kind identity and qualities.

South Korea’s social structure revolves around the individual’s professional, family, and education background. People who have attained prestigious job titles, graduated from a first-rate university, or was born into an influential family are placed very high on the social structure. People who do not have a respectable education background are usually on the bottom of the status pole; however, it is possible for social mobility. The South Korean education system is similar to the one in the United States. Even though the years of attendance might be dissimilar from the US, the education system still consists of an elementary, middle, and high school. After graduating from high school, most students apply and attend universities from all across the nation.

Parent’s role in South Korea is taking care of their children until they get married. Children usually live with their parents until they are married, even if they are full grown adults. Parents are desperate attempt to give children an educational advantage, and grant them explore to a globalized worldview (in contrast with Korea's strictly homogenous culture and community), children are often sent to boarding schools abroad usually to the U.S., Canada and Australia, and family members strangely separated for many years.

My return to Korea in the summer of 2001 was nothing short of a culture shock. I was in a country I thought I had learned by heart. It was the country I always rooted my identity and pride from. I wasn’t ready for the shock. I