Personal Narrative: The Migrant Mother

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.

Marisela Martinez Short, my Mother, is an emigrant from Guadalajara Mexico. Marisela was born on May 27th 1976, currently she is thirty nine years old. She immigrated to America when she was sixteen years old in 1992. I chose to interview Marisela because I find her story and the way her life changed dramatically very interesting.

Being a daughter of immigrant parents has never been easy here in America. Both my parents worked excessively hard to be financially stable. Unfortunately at the age of ten my life changed. I learned that my parents no longer loved each other. The arguing and fighting my parents had, only damaged me emotionally. I was too young to grasp the idea that my parents were separating which become one of the hardest times for my mom to maintain my siblings and I. Shortly after, I began attending church and fell in love with the idea of getting closer to God. Luckily, my life took an enormous turn the moment I gave my life to Christ. God has opened numerous opportunities for my education. I am proud of all the accomplishments I have achieved in high

As a part of an immigrant family, there is no doubt that, as the oldest, I had to help my parents with English translation. Even though I have been in this role for years, it was not until recently that I realized the significance of my responsibilities.

My story would have never begun if my parents had not made a huge decision in my life, almost 15 years ago. When they decided to move our family across the border, my future would be become unknown. The fate I had been destined to have was completely altered, now, I had the opportunity to change my life for the better, to strive for something bigger. My parents pushed me to be the best I could be, and to work as hard as possible to get what I wanted. As the daughter of two Mexican immigrants I grew up in a very cultural household, and being surrounded by Spanish at all times. The only negative being I had to learn English on my own, and which led to me having some difficulty when I first started school. Yet, growing up in a Spanish speaking

Hello reader, I’m about to tell you a story of some of my life. I am not normally one to volunteer details about myself, which I’ll remain somewhat reserved or completely leave some events out of this autobiography. Nonetheless, I believe I can still make my story interesting for the reader. I was born 1979, in Tampa, Florida; which, is also the same day my biological father decided to leave my mother and I. My mother isn’t a native Floridian, but had moved there with her family when she was still an infant, and had spent most of her life growing up in Florida. Needless to say, my father leaving was not an exciting time for my mother and I. Although she was employed Jimmy Cater was president and had taken the nation into

As the daughter of an immigrant, I have witnessed the various barriers faced by immigrants, and this experience has motivated me toward my career objective. According to the Pew Research Center Hispanic Trends Project, there were about 11.3 million immigrants living illegally in the United States in 2013 (Passel et al., 2014). These immigrants come from all parts of the world for several different reasons. Whether to provide better resources for their family back home or to live a better life, these immigrants usually work in environments that can be harmful and dangerous to their health.

There were three lessons that my immigrant parents ingrained in their first-generation children: Work hard, never give up, and most importantly, give back. Among other life lessons they taught us, these three were the basis for everything. It would be the basis that would and will define me as a person.

It is not uncommon to hear one recount their latest family reunion or trip with their cousins, but being a first generation immigrant, I sacrificed the luxury of taking my relatives for granted for the security of building a life in America. My parents, my brother, and I are the only ones in my family who live in the United States, thus a trip to India to visit my extended family after 4 years was an exciting yet overwhelming experience. Throughout the trip, I felt like a stranger in the country where I was born as so many things were unfamiliar, but there were a few places that reminded me of my childhood.

The Great Depression was a time of poverty, unemployment, stress, frustration, and of course depression. During that era, many had known and heard about the depression. It wasn’t until a photojournalist, Dorothea Lange, had taken the pictures of a defeated worn out mother, that people had an accurate visual of the Depression. The picture was known as the Migrant Mother. Seeing it with their eyes, many saw a new different perspective of that era.

Growing up as an immigrant I view the world in a much more different light than most people do. Whenever an opportunity presents itself to me I am willing to put in the effort if I know it will better my life. This trait of resourcefulness originates from my family who, over the years have created a life for themselves out of virtually nothing. I moved to America at the young age of two years old with my father. Though he didn’t have much to begin with, my father decided to move to this country in hopes to lead a better life and follow on the path of the American dream. I vividly recall being in the backseat of our car while my father trained me on the importance of remaining perceptive and hardworking in school and abroad, I remember he would

The migrant mother is in the foreground of the image, while her children are in the background of the image. The migrant mother is the major element in this image, while the children are the minor elements are the children. The mother is staring out in the distance, and appears to have a concerned expression on her face. She is worried, and her clothes are ragged. There are three children in this image: two of them near her shoulders, and another in her lap. It appears that the child in her lap is an infant, and was born somewhat recently.

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

The first part of this paper will explain the numerous editing and reading methods need to understand Migrant mother. The rule of thirds is a way to align a photograph to draw attention to Thompson in the photograph. Consequently, breaking up the photographs into distinct sections draws attention to details. Symmetry and patterns are presented within the photograph allowing the reader to follow distinct patterns such as the position of her children at her sides. Moreover, leading lines are natural lines within the photograph which attract the reader's eyes along the photo. In addition, balancing elements in the photograph reduce the ability for a picture to feel empty by filling the void in the scene. Lange utilizes this technique by using

I am a migrant worker, I don’t earn as much money, but the good thing is I can maintain my daughter and I. It is sometimes hard to raise her because of the low payment I earn but it is sufficient for our own survival, not to mention her father died quite years back, yes it is hard but to look at my daughter because it reminds me of him, but yet I manage to be happy because I know I have a part of him with me, our daughter. It does hurt me to raise her without a father because that was my childhood it shouldn’t be her’s, I want her to be happy. My husband died in the 1930’s, April 14, he was taken out by a Black Blizzard, after that i’ve never seen one. His body was never found, when I saw the Blizzard it was large,it wasn’t small it was