The Is The Most Common Dream For Most People?

Getting on our plane was probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to, especially since my dad couldn’t come with us that day. December 8, 2010 was the day my family decided that moving to America would give me and my brother many more opportunities, keep in mind my parents hadn’t told us that we were moving to the US. I remember I had been hugging my dad saying goodbye to him and my mom had to come and grab me away from him. His face was through the window was the last thing I remember seeing before buckling my seat belt and laying down on my mother’s shoulder. Once we had landed my mother woke me up and said to me that I should help out with the luggage and the other belongings we had to take. The night went by probably faster than

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

I remember the day I first came to America. I was in the LAX airport, looking around the totally strange place which was full of strangers. All I could hear was the strangers' buzzing. I was upset about leaving all of people I knew and loved behind me to follow my father, mother and, sister here where we could find better "educational opportunities". I had grown up being around people who used the same language as me and had black hair and brown eyes. I spent my entire childhood in Buwtal Nepal until 2010. On April 27th 2010, I departed from Tribhuvan International Airport with my lovely parents and sister. My uncle was receiving us at the Airport. I still remember landing in New York around 8 o’ clock in the morning and that fresh smell in the air with the start of a whole new life.

It was February 10, 2004 when my family left the Dominican Republic and came to the United States the country they believe was the land of prosperity. I was only 14 years old when I left my country and came to New York. I had left the warm climate and had come to a very cold place where it felt below 20 degrees. I was so scared when I arrived to this new place; the people look very different from where I came from.

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.

When I was four, my father was deployed to Afghanistan. In Virginia, he left my mother, my elder brother, myself, and my newborn brother. I still remember the day he came home, running to him in the airport along my elder brother, and clinging to my father for dear life. I didn’t understand why he had left; I spent many years in ignorance to the 9/11 attacks, or the reason for why my father was away. It was very frightening, because when your parent is taken away to a country that you can’t even pronounce the name of, and fighting a group so horrible that no one was willing to tell a four year old girl who they were, you become depressed and angry. One day, many years later, I was driving with my father in his small, broken, Volkswagen Beetle,

My mother gave me this book to write in before I left my entire family behind in Chiapas, Mexico. She told me not to be afraid and to write whenever I am feeling upset, anxious, or angry. I haven’t wanted to write this stuff down, but I do not want to say it out loud either. I moved to America last year to stay with my aunt, uncle, and cousins in Brooklyn, New York; I was twelve then and perhaps very naive about what my life would be like in America. I didn’t know any English, but my parents told me that coming to America would help me become smarter. Better even. Unfortunately, America is not what I thought it would be and in recent times, the President is even threatening to make us leave. In Mexico, I felt that I had such an amazing life, where I was able to run around and be free. But here, I am stuck between four walls in a small one bed-room apartment. In the land of opportunity, I feel that I have none.

When my mom would send me off to school, nobody ever liked the new guy. I felt so scared, and awkward.I was bullied because of the color of my skin. I tended to be a little darker not only because of my roots but because long hard hours working with my dad after school. Resulted of me having sun burns. I was called every name in the book,and it was tough for me. Having to go to school and get treated like an old rag was already enough to what I would come home everyday with. I’d just get home and right away start working with my dad just to start giving us some income. I had to get used to this type of work everyday for the rest of my life. I wasn't so sure even if I even wanted to keep going to school. I mean I was already not caring for school and working with my dad after school. I wanted to drop out. To leave everything behind. I didn't need to keep going. I was a nobody. Nobody wanted me. My classmates told me so many times. I started to believe

When we were traveling to America we faced many difficulties, but once we made it to our Aunt's house in Virginia we knew it was going to be a great, yet grueling experience. When I first started going to school it seemed as if I was on another planet. Everyone looked different, spoke a strange language, and had a distinct mindset then me; the life of a kid should seem easy because there isn’t anything to worry about, yet worrying about everything was my coping mechanism. When I entered middle school depression and anger hit me like a freight train, so much to the point where I almost committed suicide. Fighting my so called friends for “fun” and not caring about my future was my life for those

When I moved to this city I didn't think that I would be popular or the All-Star Quarterback for my school. We had to move here because of my dad's “business opportunity” that would give our family a lot more money. We were always struggling with money, that’s mostly why mom and dad fought a lot. I was always telling them “let me get a job and I could help”. But they always said “no you are too young and this doesn't concern you.

One Sunday afternoon, I was dragging my feet behind my mother and sister to the movie theater to watch a private screen showing of a film documentary called “Vietamerica”. My mother wanted my sister and me to watch the documentary because it was about how vietnamese people like her have came to America. The theater was very packed with people I could recognize to be vietnamese americans and the only seats left were the ones in the very front row where you had to uncomfortably lift your head to see the full screen. I sat down slightly miffed thinking how uninteresting this documentary would be and contemplated if I should have bought a ticket to the popular movie “The Boy” that just came out instead. The documentary then begun and revolved around

Thirty years from today I left my native country, Romania with my family to come to America in the state of New York. I remember with perfect clarity, the day we arrived at John F. Kennedy airport. I was only nineteen years of age. I have to admit that my family and I were afraid of the unknown. We exited the airport, got into a van,drove for about 45 minutes , and checked into the Aberdeen Hotel. At that time Aberdeen Hostel was mostly for transit immigrants. To be precise, it was for political refugees. My parents received a United States visa after my mother ended her twenty-one days of hunger strike. During our stay in the hotel, we went job hunting. I was fortunate enough to find a job right across the street from the hotel. It was

But when I boarded my US airways flight I began to get nervous even more because I had never seen so many Americans in my life. The US Airways flight attendants acted in a different way and there was this big guy who kept on cracking jokes. It was hard to fall asleep but I knew if I did not fell asleep it was going to be a really long flight. I don’t know how I fell asleep. After I landed in US I saw how many people enter US each day at the Port of Entry. I had to rush to collect my entire luggage after the Port of Entry allowed me to enter to US soil. I then boarded a flight to Minneapolis in a relatively smaller plane, which was also a bit uncomfortable. I met an American family who were from Minneapolis and they started asking me questions about my purpose to come to the US and so did I answer. They were amazed to learn about my country and my Dental Hygiene education. They started asking me questions about dental hygiene and how to improve it, so this I answered and they also showed me their son’s teeth. I was surprised then, why they wanted me to take a look at their son’s teeth but now I know why, because the dental expenses in US are way to high. They happily allowed me to make a call form their phone to one of my family friends who happened to live in Mankato. He advised me to travel to Mankato by a Land to Air shuttle and luckily I was able to catch one in

How could a five-year-old know that she was moving from her home country to another country where her whole life would change for the better. Well that five-year old was me. There was a civil war going in my country where a lot of innocent people were being killed every second of the day. Kids were joining the army in order to save themselves from not being killed. The plane ride was very scary to me and my family because that was our first time ever riding in a plane. I could see a female pushing a cart full of food towards us. “Our special today is chicken with mashed potatoes and gray” or would you like to have salad?” For drinks we have water, pop, and juice.” “Which one would you guys want to eat and drink today?” My mom said “the chicken

As time went on I watched the sun fall behind the horizon, landscaping the sky different shades. My dad was exhausted of driving so we stopped at a hotel. Keep in mind we've been driving for 9 hours and we have yet to arrive to the destination. The next morning we woke up at 5am to get back on the road. I was nervous and excited to meet family I've never met before. 11 hours later i finally hear my parents say we have arrived. I looked around and I could see kids running towards the car, the smile on their faces were priceless they were so happy to see us. It was like we were famous or something. For a second I was getting a little overwhelmed. They looked different they weren't wearing what “regular” kids wear. They were wearing the complete opposite. Not to mention some of them didn't even have shoes. I didn't understand why. We got off the car and said hi to everyone then my parents gave out everything they had gathered and seeing the kid's faces light up when they would receive something just shocked me I didn't think they would react the way they did. They were so thankful and so happy with what they got. I didn't understand why they were happy to receive used clothes or used things in general. As I kept looking around, the houses looked different from how mine looked. As we went through a gate my father said “This is your grandpa's and grandma's house it's where we are going to be staying.” I couldn't believe how different the