Personal Narrative: My Life In US

John sat quietly thinking about the events from the day before. A lot had happened in the last couple hours. He wasn’t sure whether to stare at the wall in shock or go out celebrating. John had just been naturalized. He was a citizen of the United States of America. He never has to go back home. He had rights. He could out and say anything! He could practice his religion! He was American.

“Times of transition are strenuous, but I love them. They are an opportunity to purge, rethink priorities, and be intentional about new habits. We can make our new normal any way we want”. -Kristin Armstrong. When I heard this quote it reminds me of a specific time in my life when I moved to another country. There are a couple of events that helped me become who I am now.

Even though it hasn’t been a long time since our family has moved to America, it feels like a lifetime ago. I can barely remember the days of walking around barefoot and only having a small piece of bread to eat, while here everyone has shoes to wear and eats pasta multiple times a week. How my life has changed in such a short time. Everyone and everything moves at such fast pace here, if one blinks they can miss a lifetime. Back in Sicily, the days drug on while everyone went through the motions of their days on the farm. There are many differences between Sicily and here in America, but the first time I laid my eyes on the Statue of Liberty, I knew I was meant to be an American.

Studying in a foreign country is an interesting experience of an individual lifetime. One tends to learn a number of things relating to ways of life in a foreign land. Social, political and economic values and aspects are usually different from one region to another. Therefore, through studying abroad one is able to learn different issues about another society such as gender and sexuality issues, social class and race/ethnicity issues. Having come from a developing country studying in the U.S.A has been a great experience personally. This paper will attempt to provide a reflection of my personal experience on studying in the U.S by comparing the history of Angola and the U.S.

Coming to America about six years ago and adapting to the new world proved to be a real challenge for me. Aside from the cultural shock, I had to adapt to the usage of a foreign language in almost everything, which in turn forced me to work harder in my studies than in the previous years. My parents sacrificed a lot for their family. They left their country, their own business, and their family behind so that my sisters and I could have a better future. I came to America when I was in the eighth grade. I did not speak English fluently or understood it very well. When I got the admission in middle school my counselor gave the course selection sheet. I did not even know what courses to pick because the courses were almost alien in nature, or

Growing up in Ghana, I had heard a lot of things about the U.S. This was a country I had always wanted to visit; my prayer was answered when I got the opportunity to travel there. Arriving in a new environment came with many experiences. Adjusting with food, language and the weather was not easy. With the passage of time, however I have been able to0 adjust and fit it. This write-up therefore is to elaborate on my experiences since coming to U.S.

The year of 2014 late summer I came to America with dreams and hopes, expecting the better for me and my family. I have family that had came before me; however they weren't that respectful for someone that had been living in Mexico their whole life. I used to get put down by the way I looked, talked or how I acted. I recall that they would talk in english about me , and make fun of me , so I wouldn’t understand what they were saying. I have cousins that don't even appreciate all the sacrifices that one as a parent has to make , so they are able to give a better life for their kids. On the good side of the story I would always keep in mind how I came here? thanks to who?and why?. So I realize that I fitted in the Hispanic community by attending to Hispanic events, playing soccer, and cooking hispanic food.

Have you ever thought of what it would be like to move to another country? Well, about a month ago I had to do that exact thing and let me tell you it’s pretty difficult to adjust.

The first time I’ve met my parents was when I was five. When they approached me at the airport, I did not know who they were. When I found out that they were my parents, I did not know how to react — I was excited, but also scared. Standing in front of me were two people whom I listened to the voices of for the past five years and spoke casually with on the phone, but meeting them in person was a whole different story.

Transitions are a part of life. Most people their first big move is going to college after high school. Mine was gliding over the Pacific Ocean at the age of three to New Zealand. When most people think of this country, they think of The Lord of the Rings, an abundance of sheep, or even, “that one island close to Australia”. To me, though, New Zealand was my home. After nine years, I would be leaving everything I knew and I would be moving to America. However, my life did not start in New Zealand. I was born in Fairfax Hospital, Virginia, and for the first three years of my life, I lived in America. I don’t remember much about the house we lived in, but I do remember walks to the park and my black Labrador: Pepper. We had to leave her behind when we moved to New Zealand in 2000 because strict bio-security laws would require her to be quarantined. She was left behind. I left many more memories behind in New Zealand when I moved back to America in 2009. Things like

I do not really know if I returned home. The Stuttgart I came back to felt like a completely different city than the one I left. The streets are bare and the mood is reminiscent of the trenches between the bombardments and the attacks. Stuttgart was muted by the aftermath of the war. The Christmas markets that are customarily teeming with waves of people are now akin to No Man’s Land. The slight amount of citizens I do see look empty and hollow as if they just had their souls reaped by the Grim Reaper himself. None of what I thought made Stuttgart the bustling city that I loved existed. Everything was painted in the colors of war. Personally, I wished that I had not returned at all. The news that my sister Kristin had brought up on my return was devastating. My mother and my sister had died in an industrial disaster at the very factory I was working at prior to the war. The very people I had fought so hard to return to. Instead I return

Life in the United States for us had been unkind. My father and I lived in a really beaten up trailer home in NE Portland. We had no money and were on the verge of being homeless. Too poor to buy food from the grocery store, we survived on nearly spoiled food from local food banks and the extra food I’d bring from school. Our trailer, with poor 1970’s insulation and paper thin aluminum tin exterior was an icebox that accumulated all that winter could give. We had no heating, nor electricity, so much of my of time, I spent at my high school, which kept me warm and fed me Monday through Friday. Conditions had been so severe that few times we just abandoned our lives the United States altogether lived in different countries such as Bolivia,

I went to the United State four years ago. At first, I was really feel out of place. The weight of not knowing English and not having any friend heavily pushed me down to depression. I did not talk to anyone. Everything in my life went downhill. I got bully in high school my first year here. Because of how I look and how I talk, people would make fun of me. It went really bad that one day. I went to school at 7am as usual, and went straight to my locker. There were a word that written in sharpie on my locker. It said "FAGGOT". My face went blank. I did not know how to react, but stood still for five minutes. After that incident, I did not trust anyone. I completely "shut down". I started to self-harm and it was not healthy at all. However, feeling the physical pain made me forget how cruel this world is.

I came here to the United States from India in May 2011. When I got her my life change a lot, and it's been really different than India, like new people around me, a new language, a different lifestyle, It's been really new for me. I came here in may and summer vacation start, that summer I was visiting new places with my uncle's and aunt's that was a really good time I enjoy it a lot. Then, summer is over, I have to go school. I started middle school here. The first day my middle school was really bad; bad because I was too shy to speak with anyone, it's maybe why I didn't know the people and the language; it was really hard for me. The few day, I didn't even like it here. Especially when it is comes to speaking front in of school or with

My move to the U.S.A. was the most radical change in my life. This is unusual, but very exiting experience.I always was a very social-active person, but I was surprised to find so many opportunities to get involved into the JMU and Harrisonburg community. I joind few organizaton on campus, such as Meditation and environmental clubs. I was happy to meet such a wonderful and friendly comunity there. I met my an amzing spiritual community which supports and helps me to deal with a cultural shock and stress. Most of them are Americans so I had an amazing chance to learn more about our cultural differences and to deal with them. I also made a lot of American friends during the volontiering projects. We were helping on the farms. I learn a lot about