Why My Father Lost The American Dream

My parents immigrated to the United States at a very young age. Having no higher education than elementary school, the only jobs they could find were working in the orchards. They would pick and thin apples during the summers, and prune trees during the cold winters. As soon as I was of working age, I would go out into the fields with them from early sunrise until the intense heat scorched our necks and faces. At a young age, I learned the harsh reality of what the daily life of an immigrant is. The long hours of hard work in the unforgiving heat of the sun; all for the low wages they were paid. These experiences in the orchard instilled in me a sense of drive to further my education and work hard to help families that were at a disadvantage as

As a first-generation Latina in college, I could not be where I am without the help of multiple individuals. My parent’s sacrificed so much coming into this country. They left behind their family, their home, in order to one day provide a better future for me. Initially, my parents planned on staying in America for five years then they would go back to Ecuador. However plans changed once my mom became pregnant with me. The decision to stay in order to give me the best future possible greatly affected both my parents. They suffer greatly and lament leaving their family everyday. Only my mom has the slight possibly of returning to her home country but unfortunately, the only thing waiting her is her mother’s grave.

As a first-generation Mexican American, I am the product of two cultures merged into one. Like many immigrants, my parents left behind their homeland and came with just the clothes on their back. They were fish out of water when they first arrived in America. They came here with hopes of pursuing the American Dream but soon realized that they weren't going to be the ones to achieve the American Dream. They worked hard so that my younger brother and I could have a shot at it. So they’ve educated us and passed the Dream along to us. The hardships experienced by my parents have inspired me to take on my own challenges. Because of the sacrifices my parents made, I am where I am today. It's an unspoken responsibility that one day I will give back to those who gave me so much.

Living in the United States wasn’t any easier for my dad. Having no parents meant he had no permanent home. He lived with his sponsors that helped him come to the United States. My dad knew very little english and was enrolled into high school. There he and many Hmongs were discriminated by other students. After graduating High School my dad received his first job where he worked for minimum wage. Even though having a job my dad still had no permanent home. He moved in with his uncles that treated them poorly. My dad had to sleep in an attic that had a broken window in the harsh Minnesota winter. That night it was twenty below zero and my dad had three thick blankets on still struggling to stay warm. After thirty long years our family has came a long ways. Today we are fulfilling the American dream in the natural state of Arkansas.

My parents both came to this country at a very young age. My father was 16 when he first moved to the U.S. and my mother years later moved when she was 19. I am a child of immigrants and it was hard growing up. I consider myself a Mexican American or Chicana. I grew up in the suburbs of Los Angeles and later moved to Las Vegas. As I asked my father what he had to deal when he first moved he said “people would discriminate me just because I couldn’t speak well English and because of my brown skin”. “I was only 16 and wanted to live the American dream, but it was more like hell in America”. A lot of people are discriminated every day just because they aren’t Caucasian/white Americans, but they’re still American they live here and have a living here.

As the plane slowly landed on the airport terminal in Washington D.C., my parents held their excitement. After the long fight of waiting on the list and doing all the immigration paperwork, they awed that they finally arrived here in the United States, the land of opportunity and freedom. My parents immigrated to the United States from Vietnam. They hoped to seek a better future for themselves and for future generations. When I was a young child, my parents put in many grueling hours of work to support our family. My mother worked as a waitress and a cashier at a Chinese restaurant while my father worked at a steel factory where he assembled parts for furniture. They both worked for minimum wages which made it more difficult to have extra money to enjoy and relax. As our family lived here in the United States, my parents received some harsh judgements and critiques from American citizens. My mother got some feedback for her limited English skills, and she got taunted for that. My father openly practiced his cultural beliefs which differed from American traditional values and customs. He prayed and meditated to his God with his special incense. This behavior received some backlash from others in his workplace. As we continued to live here in the United States, immigrants widespread such like my parents have received negative judgements and misconceptions from Americans. The topic of immigration has became more controversial due to border patrol issues and illegal immigration

From a very young age, I contended with countless setbacks, but the vitality placed on our income at home was the leading factor to my family’s problems. I remember when my parents chose to buy me a new pair of running shoes over paying the electricity bill or when they stayed up all night making tamales to sell so they could afford to pay for medical bills. There never went a month without my parents constantly arguing over the monthly rent or not having enough to buy groceries for the family. I grew up with five siblings in addition to two cousins who were sent from Mexico by their parents and placed under the legal guardianship of my parents. Naturally, learning to adapt to unfortunate circumstances was not rare and I quickly understood

My parents and I emigrated from Mexico when I was very young. I was born in Zapotlanejo, Jalisco, Mexico. There my father, my mother and I lived in a shaggy one bedroom brick shack that lacked all the common utilities we take for granted here. There was no electricity nor was there plumbing inside the house. During the night time we had to light up oil lamps only when absolutely necessary and everything that required water usage was done outside. When my parents discovered my mother was expecting another child they finally decide that was not the life they wanted for their children. They left behind

Listening to Dr. Navarro talk about all the difficult bumps throughout her life such as the struggle to self-acceptance and pursuing her dreams made me think about my parents’ sacrifices when they immigrated to the US. After I was born, it became clear that they could not provide the constant care and attention a newborn child needed while forging a new life in a foreign country. So I was sent back to China to be taken care of by my grandparents at two years old while my mother worked two jobs to

In the summer of 2013, my mother told me that I would be moving to the United States, for reasons that she didn’t disclose to me. In the Dominican Republic, children are raised to never question the decisions of their elders, so I did as I was told. Later, I understood that my parents knew that it didn’t matter how hard I worked in school, we would never have enough connections or money to find me a good job or for me to assist to a good university in my country.

I always kept in my mind how my father worked day and night for little pay to provide for my family. Seeing both of my parents struggling as two young immigrants trying to provide a home for two kids was the fuel that kept me pushing forward. I am the oldest, so naturally responsibility was placed on my shoulders. I had to take care of my younger brother, while my parents worked. I also served as a translator for my mother who spoke very little English. My parents barely received education in high school, so I helped my mom and dad with most of the paperwork. I remember writing letters for immigration, employers, lawyers, and to the court for several family members.

Three months ago I was studying my last moments of high school in Mexico. I had already planned the university I was going to and the major I wanted to course. Everything was happening really fast when my father told my mother and I that he had a job opportunity in the United States. He didn't wish to force us to go with him, although we did accept to leave because both of us consider that the most valuable thing in this world is family.

My parents immigrated from Mexico in 1981 to give my siblings and I better lives. They didn’t want us to go through the hardships they did when they were our age. However, that didn’t keep us from learning about Mexican roots. My parents taught us Spanish from the very beginning, not only to lose our Mexican roots, but also because they didn’t know any English when coming to this country. My siblings were already in their teen years when I was

People and family outside the United States will risk and sacrifice anything to get the chance to come to the United States to seek the American Dream, and equal opportunity to achieve success through liberty and pursue their dreams of happiness. My father was one of those people who made it out, to survive one of the most impoverished counties in the world. My father, Isaac E. Otitigbe, was born on December 25th, in 1958, in the city of Ishan, located inside of Delta State, Nigeria. He is dark skin, six feet tall and weighs one sixty pounds. He is a hard worker and never settles for less. Although he had to overcome many challenges, he made it to the United States to achieve his dream.

My parents did not come to San Diego with a lot of money, they only had ten million dong when they came, which to me sounded like a lot but my mom laughed and told me it was a thousand dollars in the U.S. For my parents, this meant they would go homeless in two months if one of them did not find any sort of work. For the first month, it was very difficult for them to find a job because they did not know how to find one. My mother would tell me how my father was a very strong man and yet no one would hire him because he would not know what to say during the interview. My mother would tell me how there were many nights she would fall asleep crying because she would think back to Vietnam when she was with her family and friends, where she did not feel limited or restricted by anything but money, and how now that she was here in San Diego, it was not only money but also her opportunity to socialize and communicate with many of the people around her. Even with my father by her side, she felt helpless and excluded from the community, like she no longer had a voice. Fortunately, near the end of the first month, one of the Vietnamese neighbors actually noticed my parents and greeted them. This man had a family and welcomed my parents greatly. He even helped my father find a job and get access to government services such as rent assistance, Medi-Cal and Food Stamps. Many immigrants share the same experiences my parents