Personal Narrative: My Journey To Mexico

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.

The journey began, the first state we rode through was Alabama, I couldn’t see much since it was night time. All I could see was the clear night sky. No stars were shining that night. The only lights I could see were street lights, building lights, and other cars. Looking around inside the car, everyone was asleep except for my uncle since he was the one driving. I must have been asleep the whole 4 hours and 46-minute car ride through Mississippi because I don’t remember anything, same with Louisiana. Finally, when we got to Texas all I wanted to do was get out of the car, so luckily, we stopped by to eat at Cici’s. My aunt said, “To enjoy this last meal since it was the last fast food, that we would be having for a while.” After we ate, it took us about 5-hours to get to Matamoros, Mexico. That was where we had to drive through the border to get into Mexico. Once we got into Mexico, there were lines of cars everywhere from people trying to enter and leave at the same time. The lines were slowly moving, like a turtle, inch by inch. There

We had been waiting for this trip for years. Every 5 years we go on a trip to someplace fun. When five years passed after our trip to disneyland we were all waiting to go on some other adventure. I had done this twice, but 2 things about our trip this year were special.

Getting on our plane was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to, especially since my dad couldn’t come with us that day. December 8, 2010 was the day my family decided that moving to America would give me and my brother many more opportunities, keep in mind my parents hadn’t told us that we were moving to the US. I remember I had been hugging my dad saying goodbye to him and my mom had to come and grab me away from him. His face was through the window was the last thing I remember seeing before buckling my seat belt and laying down on my mother’s shoulder. Once we had landed my mother woke me up and said to me that I should help out with the luggage and the other belongings we had to take. The night went by probably faster than

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.

As much as I loved living in Mexico as a child I always missed my father, I spend 6 birthdays, 6 Christmases, and 6 Father’s days without him. Even though he called every single day, my sister and I needed him to be in our lives physically. I know it was also very difficult for my parents to be apart and my dad suffered deeply but he was sacrificing to give us a better future. In the summer of 2007, when

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.

In the first place, 1930 was hard for most people even though I hadn’t experienced it but my family and I were one of the survivors that lived thanks to my father. My Father died during the dust bowl due to pneumonia. Since my father died my mom is a single parent so I have to go to school. I go to school with a trash bag and out of nowhere people start calling me names like mentally retarded, but I don't care because they are the rich kids here. A few have passed and I started to do things like work go to school and other stuff people do. During the time of school I had better grades than all the students in my class, but one thing that was hard and distracting was my teacher. Sometimes she’d get mad at other students then she would get mad

During the summer my family and me went on vacation to mexico to see my grandma at her house it took us 2 days to get to her town is mexico when we got there is was 11 at night my uncle opened the garage door to let us in when we got off the car my grandma opened the door to let us in her house she gave everyone a hug the her and my mom started to cook food for everyone. After everyone got their suitcases out of the car and took them to there room my mom and dad slept in one room, my sister and her daughter slept in another room and my nephew and me slept in the living room. The next day my dad showed me around the town he grew up in where his other family members who lived there, and his aunt who owns a store on the corner of the street. When

Every year I go to Mexico, during spring break and summer. It's always relaxing laying on the beach or going on a nice refreshing swim in the 70 degree water. It was an average day down in mexico during the summer of 2017; I remember my family and I relaxing at home after a long day on the boat. I was feeding the street dog because I could tell she was either having puppies, or already had puppies. She was starving to death, her ribs were showing, I knew I had to help her. I started feeding her three times a day so she could start producing milk if she’s already had the puppies; or so she could keep the puppies healthy while she was still pregnant. A few days later I walked outside to feed her, and I hear whimpering like the sound newborn puppies

My eyes reveal my story. Although I was born in the United States, my Mexican heritage shines through my hazel eyes. I am proud of both my American and Mexican identity. My Grandparents on both sides immigrated from Mexico to Southern, California before my parents were born. In our home, we celebrate our Mexican culture through cooking traditional meals and celebrating traditional holidays, such as Día de los muertos. My Family creates an altar decorated with candles, flowers, colorful trimmings and offerings for our loved ones who have passed. I feel fortunate my Mexican heritage is intertwined with my American identity.

Everything was so new and yet so familiar. Places I have seen and places I have not. A new and funny feeling swam through my body unsure what to think about this feeling. Never felt it before, and I somehow knew it wouldn’t be that last.

“Come on guys, going to be late”, my brothers told me and my sister as well as my sister in law. Running down our long stairs in Mexico. Wishing I could live there, but things aren’t as they were before. Wearing long brown boots and all dressed up to go watch the bulls. Walking for about 10 minutes to get there, stopped by my cousin’s store get get some drinks. Finally got there with my family. Trying to get a spot to sit at for a nice view.

We started off with a bang. We started with me thinking of what to do how to do it and what were my ideas. Then, a little later we actually started it and not gonna lie, it was scary. I didn’t know that much about my family, yeah i've heard stories but they're stories. Later on we went home i didn’t tell my family anything just unsuspiciously getting all the information and I learned a lot yes. I learned about my names and why they're my names, I learned about my dad getting lost a lot, I learned about my mom moving here to america when she was 14 and how her life was before she moved and why she moved. I learned about my uncle going to jail for crossing the border illegally which is kinda funny. All those I learned but i couldn’t find anything

As my eyes lit up like the fourth of July, I stood with my feet stuck to the ground, and my nerves tingle with happiness because of how marvelous it was. I didn't know a Mexico resort could be so nice.