Short Story Of An Immigrant

I was born in Hidalgo, Texas, just five minutes across the Mexican border to my

What I am most proud of, is the fact that I am a hardworking immigrant. In today’s divided society, immigrants are stereotyped as “non-contributing to society” or “largely uneducated”. This ignorant stereotype is a constant reminder of how hard I should work.

I was born on january/31/1919 in Vietnam and immigrated to France. In 1942 I was studying at the university in Nice, where I met a fellow student, Jadwiga Alfabet, a Jewish refugee from Poland. In the summer of 1942 the French police began arresting Jews with foreign nationality. In September 1943 the Germans occupied Nice and all the Italian controlled zones and we were in danger of deportation. I decided to hide not only my wife, but also her relatives. In November 1943 I took a train with a few of my wife's relatives to get them in touch with a smuggler who could take them to Switzerland, I made this trip several

Humanity is ever so much more complicated than one could have ever imagined. Humans can thrive on change, but ultimately look for something to declare as home. In search of this home people travel long distances and risk everything they have. When an American contemplates the word immigrant, one imagines the countless people from Mexico crossing into our country or the refugees that hope to make this country their home. What eludes most of us, however, is the reality that most people were, at one point, immigrants to this country and that our forefathers came here exactly the same as refugees come today. What is brought to mind when I hear the word immigrant is hope and perseverance. I remember the countless people who have traveled here

Understanding what it means to be “free” and determining whether Canada is indeed a “free’ country we can compare Brian Tamanaha’s four themes of liberty from “On the Rule of Law” to see if Canada shares similarities with that of what Tamanaha speaks of. In “On the Rule of Law” Tamanaha refers to the four themes of liberty, being political liberty, legal liberty, personal liberty, and institutionalized perversion of liberty, which he notes as characteristics of beneficial sacrifices that we give up as “free” individuals for personal security and social order. Living under laws can limit the full extent of freedom that we may have as people, but it can also be noted, that with no laws we are potentially a danger to ourselves and others. In modern society, primarily democratic societies, having no laws is simply not a reality so when we do give up our freedom, this exchange for stability must be beneficial to us and not an agreement to live under state oppression. Observing the way Canada is formed and while we are not entirely “free” living under Canadian laws, however, due to the country’s incentives taken to ensure that our basic liberties are secured it be seen that citizens indeed benefit from the sacrifices they make limiting their freedom, yet still being “free” to a certain degree. 1

There are bombs exploding that sound like drums. Guns shots that sound like the ring of bell and the screams of the fallen soldier that sound like all hope is gone. Families are being separated and taken from one another, not knowing if they will ever see them again. They have to move to another country, and try to adapt to the new language, the new food, the new clothes, and the new people. While dealing with all that they have to try to be accepted by these new people who don’t understand them and their journey. This is what immigrants have to endure when war has struck their home. Immigrants face many challenges when they are adjusting to their new life style.

Fear. It’s something each and every person must learn to deal with and conquer in their own way. In the yesterday aspect of my life, I had to live in fear of my mom being taken away from me, at a helplessly young age. I am the daughter of an immigrant; my mom does not have a license, nor can she legally get a “real job.” I have been raised by my single mother all my life, my father went to jail and was deported back to Colombia when I was two and I have had no contact with him ever since. She sacrificed everything for me. Each time she put her foot on the pedal, whether it was to drive to work, to make sure I had a meal every day or even to drive me to my dance studio just for my enjoyment, she put herself at risk. She has always worked selflessly

I completely agree with your post. It was very sad reading some of these stories and how they were treated. Just within the first story about the child that was shot dead by the watering tank. Workers now a days, I like to think are not deprived from their basic human rights. Migrant workers work depending on the seasons. My grandfather for example would work up north until the winter came along and then he would come back home. At times he would come weeks at a time to be with the family but would always go right back to work. Also the ways the students were treated in school because they were Mexican is very sad, and hard to swallow knowing some of the humiliations they had to go through. You are right prayer was something many families

In the poem “Immigrants” by Pat Mora, the main speakers contemplate weather their children will be accepted as Americans. Although the parents are immigrants, they try their best to feed their children American culture. They talk in a deep English accent, and give them dolls or footballs before they can even walk. They also wrap them in American flags as they are put to asleep. Once they are sleeping, the parents worryingly talk in their native language. Mora’s “Immigrants” demonstrates to readers how being alienated has many difficulties that immigrants have to face in order to fit in.

Born on September 25, 1645. In New france, He decided he wanted to be a fur trapper when he grew up. He was lead by native americans when he went to the mississippi river. He was hoping he would find a passage to Asia. A month later he came by another indian tribe in illinois. The chief sent his son with them with a piece pipe so they would have a safe journey. After they got done exploring he went back to exploring.

As a child I witnessed my parents work hard all day, so hard that my father developed pains in his back, for our family business and simultaneously struggle to buy me clothes as I grew out of them. I was a joke for to the kids from the nicer neighborhoods dressed in new outfits because mine were held together with patches.My family’s business began getting less customers every week after a bigger business was opened, and eventually we went out of business.It wasn’t fair that across town they were drowning in money, as I was going to bed hungry.

My grandmother immigrated in the United States in 1990. She was already in her 60s when she came here. She stayed in Boston, Massachusetts with my grandfather who was a World War II veteran. My grandfather got his healthcare access, at that time, at the Veterans Affair and Medicare since he was part of the Air Force. My grandfather put my grandmother under his beneficiary, so as a dependent, my grandmother got his health benefits. My grandmother waited a year to fully access her legal residency here in the States. When I asked her about how easy she easily accessed the healthcare, she replied, “America treats senior citizen really good!” says Maria Orquiola. She informed me that, during that period, it then was typical for an individual to

Kevin was a comedian. Everything he said was facetious. Everything he said was meant to be taken in a humorous way. Kevin was very indigent; his bank account had no money in it. So Kevin’s main reason for being a comedian was to augment his bank account. If he added to his account he would be able to afford food and clothes. As a person Kevin was mundane he was just like your ordinary guy. Kevin would perform at a bar. He brought in a lot of customers. He thought that by doing so he would make a lot of money. Well the bar took most of the profit and gave him 10$ for his whole act. After this Kevin was indignant; he started to yell and throw bottles of liquor because he was outraged. The owner of the bar tried to mollify Kevin by giving him

After traveling for almost two days and not knowing where to go or what to do I finally arrived at the airport in Tangier at two in the morning. I was greeted by Mourad. He looked relieved to see us. We ran to the car and went to our new school. Doua did not arrive until a couple days later. Doua is one of the campus coordinators here in Tangier but to us, she is more. We are here in Morocco in a country unknown to us and a language we do not know, she is our host mom for the next four months. Went I first saw her, she had a beaming smile on her face and went we talk to Doua she was very down to earth and kind. She said, "I am from chefchaouen, which is a small city near Tangier. "I came here to UNE when I talked at a convention and Mourad

I grew up listening to stories about my grandpa’s immigration from Inner Mongolia (Chinese autonomous region) to Mongolia (Independent Mongolia), working as a construction worker and eventually participating all the major construction works in a newly developing capital city of Mongolia during tight communist regime of Soviet Union. He often told me how they transported their construction materials without any of modern automated machinery but with their bare hands, how construction process and technology got improved drastically with help of the “soviet experts”, how many times he injured himself while working in various construction sites throughout the country. Today, 15 years after his passing, our family still keeps his medals awarded