Personal Narrative: My Life As An Immigrant

I was born in Hidalgo, Texas, just five minutes across the Mexican border to my

I interviewed a beautiful and courageous woman, of African descent. Born and raised in Monrovia, Liberia on May 20, 1969. In addition, she has one biological brother and three step siblings. Currently she resides in Loganville, Georgia, where she lives with her two children. By the same token, she and her husband been married for twenty-one years to her loving high school sweetheart husband. Due to unfortunate circumstances, she lost her husband in the line of duty. Causing her to become a widow, continuing to survive life without her husband. When I conducted this interview, had one topic in mind that I wanted to learn more about her life as an immigrant and how did influence her life.

As I walked into the house, my parents were waiting for me in the living room. I did not know what was happening, but from the look in their eyes, I knew that was something wrong. My mother sat me down to tell me that my father had lost his business. The situation seemed so hectic; yet, the conversation felt like it lasted a lifetime. Finding out this news was detrimental to my family because my father had worked hard in America to build this business. I learned that my father had to give up his business and, as result my family had to start over, and find a new way to make a living.

Making adjustments in life, no matter the situation, always takes time. These first couple of weeks of the new semester have been challenging for me. Despite the encounters, I was still able to learn an ample amount of information that can also be perceived as life lessons. Throughout this week, I have learned that I am lucky to be born here in the United States, learned the different views of my peers, and learned that I need to be more attentive.

I am the first generation of my family members that has been raised at and attended school in the United States. My siblings were raised and educated in Mexico later transitioning to the U.S. when I was 4. My family from a young age to now has only been made up of my mom, two sisters, nephews, and niece slowly growing as time passes.

“Papa, no te vayas!” (Daddy, don’t go!) Those were the words that I said with tears streaming down my face every time my dad left our home in Mexico to return to California. I recall this fractured family existence, this inevitable sacrifice of separation in order to survive for seven long years, until my parents decided that it was time to reunite in the United States and finally become a stable family. While the United States was a new setting for my family, it was not a new place for me as it was my birth country. Yet, I remember feeling harassed and excluded, common emotions among immigrants to the U.S. and this new emotion created a fear I was unaccustomed to; I felt scared of this new lifestyle and of the limited possibilities.

As the child of Mexican immigrants, I am always encouraged to work to the best of my ability because of the sacrifices and struggles my family went through to get where we are today. Too young to remember, I am constantly reminded of the difficulties my family experienced as they attempted to rebuild their lives in a new country with nothing but their clothes on their backs and the few cash they had in their pockets. The place we called home was a shabby, old apartment in a neighborhood where the crime rate seemed as if it doubled in a matter of seconds. At a point in our lives my family begged for pennies to afford medicine from gas stations, and even the dollar store when we fell ill. It was never that we were out of money, but we were just financially unstable. We had a roof over our heads, food on our table, clothes, and even a family car, but my father’s income was not always enough to support the life of a growing family and on top of that, enough to invest in my family’s future.

Just like many immigrant families, my family had to encounter many adversities in the United States. My mother had to live the harsh experience of walking long hours and starve as she battled to cross the border of Mexico and the United States. Nothing, not even the fact that she was 5 months pregnant was going to stop her because her dream of giving me a better life was stronger than any hardship. My father was a legal resident of the United States but during this period of time it was very hard for an immigrant person to aspire for a good job. He was destined to work in the fields for many years. I grew up and went to elementary school and since my father was working out in the fields I was signed up to the Migrant Program. As a small elementary

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.

I came to the United States on October 1st 2009. As an eight-year-old, I didn’t realize the changes my life was about to go through. I would always dream of coming to the united states because of the amount of opportunities that I could have here, that I could never have in El Salvador. Although, I didn’t comprehend that would mean leaving my whole family and making such a huge change in my life. Growing up in El Salvador I got used to depending on my family and having their support no matter what. After I moved the changes were really hard for me: Not having my family around, learning a new language, and getting used to a new lifestyle; took me some time to get used to.

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.

On 06/20/17, at 3:08pm, I Deputy Warden N. Christian was dispatched to 2645 Travis Road on a dog being held, no known owner. I arrived at the location and met with complainant. Complainant is a leasing agent for the above listed property. Complainant had the dog in the back of an abandoned apartment (fence in patio). The complainant took me to the location the dog was being held, I impounded the dog and placed a white terrier mix in my vehicle. The terrier had no identifying tags to indicate ownership. I transported the dog to Franklin County Animal Shelter (FCACC). Dog owner John Allen Jr redeemed the dog on 06/21/17. Mr. Allen did not show proof of dog license or vaccinate for his dog name Mabelline. I issued Mr. Allen violations

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

I do not consider myself nor my family to be any form of the word immigrant. An immigrant is a person who comes to live permanently in a foreign country. I would modify the definition and interpolate the word “voluntarily” into the definition. Furthermore, in accordance with the directives of this assignment, I will explain what family history I am aware of to the best of my ability.

Stepping off the plane in June 2005, I knew I was no longer in Colombia and I had not yet realized my life would change. The first noticeable difference was school; I was motivated to learn, advance, and achieve greatness. I was told I could accomplish anything I dreamed; however, I knew I did not have the resources to procure my dreams. We started from zero, scratch. My own version of the classic immigrant story—moving and hitting the restart button. I was told my socioeconomic situation did not matter. Little did they know, it does.