Reynaldo Sepulveda Has Changed My Life

The United States and Mexican border number of migrating, unaccompanied Honduran minors has grown more than 10,500 from the start of January through the month of July of year 2017. Immigration of children continues to have a major effect and an affect both on the United States and Mexico. This is only now coming to the surface because people have different ways to access information and know about news that has not happened in your state or city. The six chapter book “Enrique’s Journey” written by author Sonia Nazario in the year 2001 was only a glimpse of child immigration and how each country was dealing with the influx of unaccompanied minors. Furthermore, the book “Enrique’s Journey” focuses on the experience of being a child with an immigrating

Born to Hispanic immigrants Juan and Celina Baez Sotomayor on June, 25th, 1954, I was raised in the Bronx (one of New York’s five boroughs) as the eldest of two. My brother, Juan Sotomayor, and I had a happy childhood, until my father died suddenly in 1963, leaving us in my mother’s care. Though my mother barely made due as a nurse, she managed to send my

I was borned in a small village call San Bartolome Quialana located in Southeastern Mexico. It is best known for its indigenous peoples and cultures. Here, in San Bartolome Quialana, women proudly cover their heads with multicolored chews and protect their satin dress with their gauze blouse and bib garments, each made with their own hands. The fabric is reserved for the women who also work in the fields. I mostly grew up with my mother Guadalupe,Smirna and Friedy. My brother being 14 years and my sister 12. In San Bartolome Quialana I grew up speaking an indigenous language call Zapoteco. I lived in a bigger house there but didn't have any warm water, nor a shower. Our kitchen didn't have a stove we made our own tortilla in a comal. My

Valeria Hernandez was born May 9th, 1999 in Fort Collins, Colorado. After six weeks of her birth, her family decided to move back home to Temosachic, Chihuahua MX. After two years of being there, they returned to Fort Collins. By this time, she was fluent in Spanish and beginning her life in the United States. Going into classes for preschoolers she began to understand the difficulties that lay ahead. During the first few months of her education, it was difficult being social by having a translator help her around in this new institution. After a few weeks, she learned enough English to understand directions on her own and to enjoy playtime with her new friends. Then came elementary school; attending a bilingual institution, for English and

The Changeable nature of life affects us all somehow. Whether it be moving to a new city, having children, or losing people that we love, it can affect people in many different ways. For example, in the novel, the main character

Growing up with an autistic sibling and being a first generation Mexican-American student have shaped the individual I have become. My parents worked long shifts in

I grew up in a small town in the state of Michoacan, Mexico until a few weeks after my seventh birthday. In 2001, after six years since my father petitioned to have us come to the United States with him and finally he had received a letter from U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services that his request had been approved. Being of that age, I was my mother’s companion everywhere, however, all I could grasp from those conversations was that we were going to the United States. I don 't think any of us knew what this meant or to what extent this would change our lives, not even my parents whom I thought knew it all.

I’m an American grown up with Mexican roots; with all their traditions, religious beliefs, holidays, and foods. I come from a small town of south Texas, called The Rio Grande Valley, where I live with my average size family. I’ve grown up with my family facing hardships, and flaws yet united always. As time has gone by I’ve come to learn that everything around me has shaped me to be the young lady I am today, and I’m grateful for that.

Part 1: My mom is from Guerrero, Mexico. My grandparents are from Guerrero, Mexico. But they currently live in Veracruz, Mexico. My dad is from the Mexican State, Mexico. But I am from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. My mom moved to Milwaukee in April of 1998. From the beaches of Veracruz, Mexico, to the big cities of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. She moved here because she wanted to explore new things, to have a huge change in her life. From a rural areas with animals around, to a urban area with traffic everywhere. My mother came here illegally, by the borders, by walking in the hot desserts. My mom moved away from Veracruz, Mexico because she didn’t like the rural areas she was living in. Ever since I was born here, I have never moved from here. What pulled

My entire family was born in Guadalajara, Mexico. After three and a half years of living there my family decided to seek a better future in The United States. My father would go to the United States back and forth to work and earn money to send to us in Mexico. Eventually my mother was able to get a visa and my brother along with my little sister had an alternate way into the United States. We lived in Dallas Texas and Atlanta Georgia before settling in Howard county Maryland in a very small apartment. Luckily we were doing pretty well with my dad being the only one knowing English at the time. My father was working two jobs and I was getting ready to start kindergarten. I was very excited because the education we would have received in Mexico was nothing compared to the education in Howard County. I was excited for what was to come, but there were disadvantages of knowing only Spanish. Being bullied because of my poor English had an impact on me. I was in completely separate classes learning things that were simple compared to the regular course. I was excluded from certain activities, field trips and assemblies. I was clueless at first though as I slowly learned the language I understood things a lot more.

It has been 11 years since we have arrived to Los Angeles, California. I can still remember the feeling of when my father had said to us that he we would be moving to a far place to try to find better jobs for my mother and him because with the two jobs my father had and the washing and ironing of other peoples clothes my mom did was not bringing enough money to support my sisters and me and did they wanted to provide a better life for my sisters and me. Mexico was such a poor country that my parents could not see themselves make enough money to support my sisters and me, let alone see us get a better education. So my parents decide to migrate to the United States with one of my mother’s brother. We arrived in Los Angeles, California on

As a child I didn't know I was different, I didn't know that the color of my skin, and the food I ate made me weird. Not until, It was pointed out to me. I grew up in Salvadoran-American household. We ate tamales and we ate burgers. We listened to Cumbia and we listened to Pop.I grew up in a house where two cultures were meshed together, but I always that about the country my parents called home. I grew up listening to the stories of how my mother grew up in El Salvador and immigrated to the United States when she was nine years old. Stories of my great grandma yelling at my aunts and my mom to milk the cows early in the morning. The story of my father crossing the border at 18 and being lost in the Mexican desert for 5 days. Stories of how my dad bought his first pair of shoes at 7 years old and how my father used to play with sticks by a creek for hours.

I was born on February 14, 1993 in the city of La Vega, Dominican Republic. I came to New York at the age of 10. The fact that my first language is Spanish placed me at a disadvantage from the minute I stepped a foot in the United States since even at the airport I was not able to communicate with the agent. My biggest struggle was school since the class was taught in English only and most of my classmates only spoke English. Despite my efforts to give it my all to learn the language and adapt to the customs of this unfamiliar place, it seemed to be a challenge I would never overcome. Since my parents and close family members mostly spoke Spanish as well, they could not help me, they only encouraged me to study and read a lot so that I would learn the language faster. I wanted to fit in with kids of my age and to understand when

My story is a story of rebellion. Growing up was hard enough when my father walked out the front door and never came back,and left my disabled mom to take care of five kids;but growing up with a different skin color than everyone else would come with its own set of challenges.Due to the fact that my father was here on a working visa,we had to relocate constantly,so he could find a job. That meant moving a lot and attending many schools. Often students would treat me as though I was a circus act and ask me to speak Spanish. When people discovered that I could not speak Spanish,especially other Mexicans, they would comment about how I am supposed to be able to or else they would not consider me a true Mexican. My father thought it was more important

I’m an immigrant. I was born in Mexico and it was only until my parents decided to come to the United States that I am where I am. My mother tried to cross the border to come to the United States for the first time when I was still in her womb all by herself as my father was already in the Unites States working in order to provide for her in the way that he wasn’t able to do so by staying in Mexico. My mother was caught by immigration and was sent back. My mother was very disappointed because she knew that if she didn’t get me to the United States some way or another I wouldn’t get very far in life by staying in Mexico. My father returned back to Mexico when I was born and it wasn’t until I was 4 years old that they decided to try to cross the border once again. Although I was only 4 years old I remember the whole experience as if it was yesterday. The amount of fear of getting caught by immigration and having done everything for nothing was always in the back of my mind while going through the whole experience. Up to this day nothing has ever been as terrifying and nerve-wrecking as having to go through that whole experience especially for a 4 year old child but I will forever be grateful for the bravery and strength that my parents had to gather in