Personal Narrative: My Summer In 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.

Growing up in an area with a large Mexican community I never really understood how much my culture means to me. I grew up with the stories my dad and grandfather would tell me about my ancestors. My people were the raiders from the hills of Mexico City and that we were a family of warriors. I never held much weight to the warrior part of my grandfather’s stories but I did know that my great grandfather was a fighter. He left Mexico and rode the train up to Denton Texas and sold tamales on the square his entire life. He fought to give my grandfather a better life here. I don’t talk about my dad’s side of the family much, in this day in age being seen as white has more advantages than being seen as Mexican. This thought changed as I came to

I have come to associate myself with the identity of an American Hispanic. When I was young, I never thought of my identity. I always thought everyone was equal and there were no distinct ways to stereotype a person. An event that helped me realize my identity was a trip to Venezuela where my family is from. Even though I was born in the United States, I met several different family members on this trip and saw so many different cultural views and sites that I had not seen in the US. In Venezuela, everyone speaks Spanish, and there were so many different types of foods like “Arepas,” which is a type of food made of ground maize dough, a staple where I’m from.

Waving goodbye from the backseat of the car, as we pull out of my parent’s driveway. Looking out the window at the oddly, white shaped clouds. Thinking, I had never been away from my parents and my younger sister for so long, even though it was only for two weeks. I was excited and scared all at once, but I wasn’t too thrilled about the whole 29-hour drive there. Hoping that the trip would go well and nothing bad will happen to us.

My family and I have gone on many vacations to a lot of locations around the world. The worst trip I’ve ever taken was my trip to the Mayan Riviera in Mexico. This trip was so unenjoyable to me because right from the get go things weren’t looking good for me; when we arrived in Mexico it was raining and very windy. Even so, when we got to the resort and checked in, I found that the lock on my hotel room door was broken and I was unable to get into my room. It took hours for the hotel staff to figure out what was wrong and fix it. The next five days were sunny and warm but unfortunately it was still too windy to do any water activities like scuba diving. Which really aggravated me because earlier in the summer I had spent

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.

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

December 2008 marks the initial start to the devastating and gruesome cartel drug war in Mexico that has led to the deaths of over 80,000 people. In the midst of this war, violence has surged dramatically in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, an area seen by many as a point of contention in the lucrative drug smuggling business that stems from Mexico and flows into the United States. As a result of the recent outbreak of violence, it has been difficult to accept the fact that my mother and sister cross the border every weekend from El Paso to Ciudad Juarez to go visit family knowing they are at risk of being taken hostage or even worse, getting killed by the cartel. My father has also experienced these life-threatening occurrences

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

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.

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.

Communication apprehension has been a struggle for me being an immigrant from Mexico. Conversing in my native language I am very vocal, participative and communicative with extensive vocabulary. Communication in a second language presented a language barrier and apprehension of making grammar mistakes and embarrassment of my accent.

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.

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.