Personal Narrative: Where Am I Go To America?

Moving to America, was a difficult transition for me. I had come to the realization that I wasn’t going to see my friends any time soon back in Iran and that was hard to overcome at a young age. I was alone as a child because my siblings are a lot older than me, and my parents’ had the challenge of starting over because they had left everything behind in Iran. However, that wasn’t going to get in the way of me succeeding in school. I have always been a fast learner, by the age of eight I had already learned four languages. Also, I was voted most improved by my classmate every year I was in Elementary School. This might not seem like a big achievement, but as a young student in a new country it was a huge motivation boost for me to improve every

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.

I looked at myself at the mirror, drops of water coming out of my eyes like as if it was a rainy day in May. Hearing the news got me so upset and depressed. I sat outside and looked around the place that I have grown up and that meant a lot to me. When I heard that our family was moving to America I was not happy about that.I was angry with my family because I did not want to leave Ethiopia. I did not want to leave my friends and family in Ethiopia. It scared me that I had to leave my old life and start a new one. A month later, it was time to go the airport and get ready to go to the new country. I was nervous; my heartbeat got louder and louder as walked closer to the airport. As I bit my lip, my eyes were dancing to every corner, my legs were shaking, and my hands were sweating. I was sad that I was leaving the place that I called home and that I had to leave all my childhood memories. At the same time, I was excited because I always wondered what it felt like to move to a different country and adapt to a new world, culture, and language. At the airport, I was happy finally come face to face with the big white things that use to fly over my house. I was stunned to see how big they really were. All of the sudden my sadness turned into excitement and I could not wait to start a

The plane took off and were in the air leaving the place I had only ever known. I remember when my parents told me and my two brothers that we would be moving to the United states. At the time I didn’t know where we would end up or how we were even getting there. All I knew was I would be in a totally different landscape with a lot of ethnically different people whom I have never met or seen before.

After our long, miserable ship ride, we were dropped off at Ellis Island where we were herded like cattle. We were inspected head to toe, and asked so many questions. Nurses pinched, pulled, and probed all over, and my little sister sobbed the entire time. My poor mother barely passed the medical inspections since she caught an awful cough and lost so much weight on the ship. There were tears in all of our eyes when we were greeted by my father and brothers when we were finally cleared to enter America. I believe my mother and I aged three years in only a month’s journey, but my father and brothers had different look to them, tired, but also happy and

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

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.

“Something that I never had in life, something that you have but are taking for granted, I won't stand for it.” Game controller in hand, I gulped hard, with sweat rolling down my head. My eyes pointed directly downward, not daring to look up as my mother gave “the talk.” My mother’s words echo in my head. Having lost her father during high school, she was denied her right to higher education. She married at a young age, moved to America, and gave birth to me. The first born, the carrier of the American Dream. We were what one would expect from an immigrant Indian family; working hard, valuing education, and hoping for a better tomorrow. As my parents worked hard to sustain our family, I strived to excel in school, motivated by their hardship.

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.

I never had a favorite childhood memory,I never had a very imaginative mindset, all I remember is all the terrible things that has ever happened, may I ask this of you reader have you ever felt alone in a world that simply doesn't understand or why look or do things a certain way? I know I have, we live in a judgmental world we all judge people on how they look and act. Let me ask another question have you ever been put up on a pedestal and when you make mistakes people starts questioning why you didn't succeed or if you did why didn't you do things a certain way? Well enough of the questions, My family has always been the ostentatious gregarious type, they are like a diamond in a coal mine. My story begins around 2007 the year I came to America.

It didn’t hit me this whole experience was real until I crossed the threshold of the departure bridge into the cabin. I was scared and I was nervous. Moving to New Zealand was easy. I was three and there was still time to make friends. This time, however, I would be walking into a classroom of kids that already have their friend groups sorted. I would also say excited but the other two emotions definitely overpowered the excitement I was feeling. My only knowledge of the house we were moving into was about an hour’s worth of a camcorder walkthrough from some relatives. It looked nice enough on video, but I was apprehensive as to what it looked like in real life. I’m not sure if it was because I had just spent 24 hours in either an airport or an airplane, but when we pulled up to the house I was amazed. I looked better than what the video portrayed and any nervousness I felt earlier melted away. I was excited to start a new chapter of my

I couldn’t believe the day had come, I was moving to America! For me, this was going to be a whole new experience and a life-changing event. Truth be told, I did not know what to expect, and on what is going to happen next.

When I came to America for the first time, I was very rebellious, and I did not uphold the wisdom of making myself a better person. There I was, looking into the world having no idea what would be in store for me. But I always had a spirit for knowledge and curiosity.

Moving to America to start a new life can be extremely daunting. Living in a new country, not knowing what the future holds and learning new customs is a frightening prospect. The struggle immigrants go through is harder than most things I could imagine.