The Story Of An Immigrant

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

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.

Looking back to the past, before I was born, I never really knew where my ancestors came from or why they even came here in the first place. It was never made a big deal in my family to talk about our history and the reasons why they came to American. So, I decided to do a little research and find out a little bit about myself, my culture, and my communication styles. I asked for a little bit of help from my grandmothers from each side of my family. I got an abundance of information that opened my eyes to a new past that I didn’t even know about.

Welcome. A single word on the carpet by the door greets me whenever I come home. There had been times where that one word made my heart beat and cry with joy. But not now, for many things changed through the years. Now when I look at this carpet, I instead question back: ‘Do you really mean that?’

With the settlement of first immagrants to America, this has been the phrase in which they preach. I seemed to those from an outside perspective of America, that this was the place to be. This was no exception for my grandfather. His valuable lessons of dedication, persistence and passion have shaped me into the person that I have become.

“Tell me the moment she feels any pain!” Dr. Cueto shouted. I relayed the message in Thai to

Another thing that was very detailed in this chapter was the immigrants overall journey and experience while traveling. Due to the many attempts they go through because they are caught and deported various times along the way they eventually learn tricks and shortcuts in the streets and on the trains. Enrique and many of the other immigrants have an idea of which paths to take and they know where they’ll find bandits, gangs, and police and therefore they try to avoid them at all costs. They are also aware of the residents in the towns and whether they’d be more sympathetic towards them and help them out or whether they will send them away with nothing to eat. The immigrants also know that if they ask for food by themselves rather than in groups

Throughout my entire life I have heard the word “immigrant” countless times, inmy childhood, in my middle school days, and especially nowadays with the controversial topic taking over social media. I’ve been labelled with this word or image ever since my birth, and yet I still don’t exactly know how I should feel about that.

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

The prisoner was being malice so they had to put him in high security prison.

I was born in Chin State,in a small city called Ngalang.We were a big family.We had a hard time making a living because my dad came to Malaysia already.It was only my mom who served us.She will pickyback my little brother while she crop.I was around 13 or 14.I always followed my mom.I would watch her crop.I couldn’t go to school because we couldn’t afford to buy school uniforms.Everyday whenever we go to the farm and she will crop and I saw her sweating come out of her body.I wanted to whipe it for her,but she wouldn’t let me.She thought I might get hurt if I get too close to her.I would go and sit by the tree.I would cry and when ever my mom call me.I would whipe my tear quickly as fast as I could and go to her.One day I was sitting and I

It was summer of 2010. My parents were still married and we went up to Wichita Falls, Wichita to go see my brother Chris who was in the Military on base working. We stayed there for a week. I still remember the car ride up there. We rented a van, we had tvs in the rented van, my sister Rylee, my other brother Garrett (he was in the military too), my mom Traci, and my dad Doug, and my brothers military bag it was like a person. I still remember I had to sit in the back with that bad it was so big. Garrett put the seatbelt around the bag like it was a person. The car trip was so long but it was all worth it in the end. It was in the middle of the week and we were out on the beach. My brother Chris and his pregnant wife Ashley had a boat the water

When my mom told me to pack some clothes I asked her why she told me because we aren't we are going to Wisconsin to be with your family and ice cream with my brother when she told us it will happen in my room and she told us I was reading a book when it started my mom came in you don't me pack some clothes in your back she told me why where are we going mom I told her my mom told me to tell my brother Alex to come inside my room and said Wisconsin and said we're going to Wisconsin to see your dad's family oh yeah going to see my baby cousins next thing that happened we were in the gas station putting gas on the car and getting some chips and sandwiches then we were on the road and we were in Arkansas City my dad told us we were asleep during

“Freedom isn’t free,” William said. “Freedom and individual responsibility require hard work. Some people are willing to give up their freedom in exchange for nanny state liberalism. That’s where this nation was once heading before we turned things around. Here in this barn right now you have people exercising their freedom to choose to be a part of a community. In Canada, the government makes that choice for you. So, you have to ask yourself, would you rather live free, or supplicate yourself to a system that places no value on the

Film’s unique visual and narrative properties in “The Immigrant” aid in critiquing the popularly held “American Dream”. The dream stated that anyone, even foreigners, could achieve financial/personal success in America if they worked hard, but Chaplin believes this is not completely true. Narrative qualities of film in “The Immigrant” present concrete stories and characters that visually demonstrate the hardships, mistreatment, and luck involved in the misunderstood “American Dream”. The exaggerated rockiness of the ship and the implied death of the female character’s mother showed viewers that traveling to America is not as glamorous as the American Dream makes it out to be. When immigrants finally