I looked up and saw my father. "hello father, what's wrong" I asked. "Were moving so you, need to go pack." Said father. "Where are going?" I asked. "To the U.S." Said father. we finished packing all our belongings. Then, We put all of our bags into a bundle and now were now ready to go. We started to walk to the seaport to get on the steamship. When we all got there we saw the ship and we were all in awe of how massive it was. As we waited to get on the ship we all had to write our names on the manifest with our ages and our origin but I had to fill out Loretta's for her because she is only five. We got on the steamship and it was nothing like I expected. We had to get on the steerage of the ship. It smelled like something rotten. …show more content…
While father was trying to care for us, he got sick. Father died. I have never been so depressed. I lost mother and father. So, Loretta and Drago and Me, try to make it to the deck of the ship. We saw the most beautiful thing in our whole lives. It was the statue of liberty. I have never been happier to see such a sight in such a long time. I know the trip was grueling and sad but it needed to happen. So when the ship pulled onto shore they let down a gangplank and several men wearing all white came onto the ship and gave out papers to answer with the some questions on them. I was confused with the questions, but I was able to fill it out pretty well. I handed it to the officer with Drago's and Loretta's. We waited for a ferry boat to take us to a place called Ellis Island. The ferry came after about four hours and we got on with hundreds of people. We finally made it to Ellis Island. Me and Drago grab our belongings. Then, followed others down a small walkway to a imposing red brick building. Officers gave us numbered tags. We kept walking when we saw a door. I opened it and saw a huge room full of officers and several over people's belongings with there own shelves with their tag …show more content…
So now I had to go to the Legal exam room. I noticed Drago and Loretta were ahead of me. I had to hurry. I tried to go to the front counter as soon as possible. When I made it up there, they asked me a few questions. Then I could go. As I walked out. I saw Drago walking towards the right. I started to walk towards the right and the bottom of the stairs was an office to exchange money from country for U.S. Dollars. I ran to Drago , then all three of us walked to the kissing post. We really didn't have any family here so we grabbed our bags. We went out the door. All the heartbreak ,and hardships we dealt with were challenges, but we made it. able to live like this. I tried asking father for food. He looked at me then shrugged and said "here is one dollar. See if you can buy any." "Okay ," I said walking to the door. I stepped to the counter. they asked me what I wanted. I didn't know so I said “what can one dollar get me?” "You will be getting two sandwiches?" said the woman. "Yes, thank you." I said. "here you go, hope you enjoy... bye..." She said waving. I walked
It was a warm rainy June night the humidity was high which made it even harder to breathe on the crammed boat. My family was asleep on the constantly rocking boat suddenly the boat shook, but my family was still fast asleep. I couldn’t seem to fall asleep so I got up and stepped out on the cold wet steel boats upper deck to get some air. When I got outside I realized that it was pouring bucket sized rain. I saw increasingly large waves crash furiously against the lower deck. Hard water droplets pelted my face, I could taste the salt water in my mouth from the spray of the ocean. Suddenly A massive wave slammed hard against the ship and almost swallowed the boat. Wind gusts started kicking up. I held onto the rail grasping it as if it were my prized possession. Suddenly I was blown
My family's background has influenced me in a positive perspective. I come from a family that has migrated to the USA for decades. And knowing the stories behind the struggles my ancestors, and my parents went through. Makes me appreciate everything that my parents can afford to give me.
With the rapid economic development, more and more people try to immigrate to America and trying to learn English. Some parents would like their children just speaking English. However, there are some parents tend to keep their native language and teach to their children, in order to keep their culture alive. And in my opinion, parents should keep their old language alive.
We don’t realize how hard it is for immigrant parents to get their children education, and we judge and hate on something we have never been through. I guess it’s true you never know someone’s pain unless you go through it. Not everyone has the same privileges as others, some have to work twice as hard to try to give their children an opportunity towards an education on the contrary some American families have it simpler. I not blaming people who have families who were born here or say it’s wrong, but many people tend to affront children of immigrant parents and feel like they have the equitableness to say they aren’t suitable to receive public education.
Everyone on the plane start shuffling around, anxious to get off this stuffy tin can. “We are all going to meet at customs!” My teacher announced to the group. I looked to Kyani for the look of reassurance, knowing that neither of us knew what we were doing, and after the six-hour delay we suffered, trying to roam a foreign airport at 12am didn’t seem like the most exciting of endeavors. The flight attendants finally open the exit and the crowd shifted forward. We entered the jet bridge
The police hauled all of us off to Jail. After spending the entire night being brutally interrogated, the DA finally realized Antonio was responsible for the majority of the crimes. Since their case against me consisted mainly of circumstantial evidence, the DA decided to make a deal with me. He said if I told them everything I knew about my boss and his organization and if I agreed to testify in court they'd drop all the charges against me. Although it was a sweet offer, I knew Lana was right. His crew would find and kill all of us if I testified.
I can’t wait until we reach America, when our lives will change for the better. We are in the dining room, enjoying a lovely dinner that consists of bread and mashed potatoes. My brothers and I are talking about what we will do once we reach America. Then, all of a sudden, we hear a loud noise. Bang! A huge vibration ran through the room, and instantly I know something is wrong. Maybe it is instinct, or maybe it is just my imagination after what my family has been through, but I know something is not right. I raced to the top deck with my brothers in tow, and we took the steps two at a time. There, we saw people running frantically and gathering women and children. Mothers were grabbing their children, and shoving them on life rafts. A man grabbed my shoulders, and when I looked at him, he looked to be someone official.
Few years ago my dad told me story of how he came to America and that he wished that he could go back and see his family that he didn't see for about 10 to 12 years. In my mind, I hope his wish could come true and that he could be the luckiest. But for now we stay we remain. My mom comes back from work all worned out to find money to send to her uncle back home at Africa. She always come home complaining on how hard the job is and she wish to quit but can't because she can't find another job that gives out good money. She asked on what we were talking about and told her. That's when she joined us and we all talked. Then…
I am all about the sentimental value behind every single little item, so as my graduation present I asked just that from my parents, a sentimental gift. When I opened the thin, beige rectangular box that was handed to me, laying inside was a plane ticket to Mexico as well as the keys to a rental car. Tears quickly emerged. On the tickets bright as the sun were the words “Mcallen, Tx to Valle Hermoso, Tamaulipas” I was finally going to be able to visit my birthplace after 16 years of not having any connection due to us not having a Visa, so we couldn't risk visiting family across the border.
That evening aboard ship was even wilder than the evening before. We saw the chaperones just walking around and looking. Word got around that the chaperones had given up on us. They were going to just let us run wild and do whatever we wanted to do. Needless to say, we did. We were docked in Florida and back home before we knew it.
It was the middle of the night when my mother got a phone call. The car ride was silent, my father had a blank stare and my mother was silently crying. I had no idea where we were headed but I knew this empty feeling in my stomach would not go away. Walking through the long bright hallways, passing through an endless amount of doors, we had finally arrived. As we
So there I was, thundering (or carefully maneuvering) my way up Route 9. After a quick stop at the local police station to re-orient myself (as I missed a left turn), I pulled into the small parking lot of the small, two-story, stucco-and-shingled building with an enormous satellite dish on it. I double-checked my questions, made sure my recorder was working, and headed in. I sat in the small waiting area as the secretary went to fetch Simon. Palms sweaty, I rubbed them on my jeans to calm myself and let out a little nervous energy.
We were dropped off at Liverpool Street Station in London on a bright sunny afternoon, wearing our numbers so the volunteer families could find the children they were assigned to. After about 30 minutes of people bustling around and gathering children, I was left with 11 other children unclaimed. I recall thinking why me? Why do I have to go through this? A woman, by the name of Mary, herded us into a school where we were told to stay until some families could be found. A few days went by and finally a family came and took a little boy, Noah, and me back to their house. The young couple introduced themselves as Sam and Olivia Murphy. Their house was small, but sufficient, and had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a livin...
I walked outside into the cool April morning. The air around me was a slightly stinging cold; nevertheless, I took a big deep breath of the refreshing mountain air. I walked over to my dads red and white 1979 Ford F150 pickup and started it for him. I brought it around to the front of the house, put the transmission in neutral, and set the parking brake. After hopping out of the cab, I met my dad coming out of the house, and went around the front of the truck. I hopped into the passenger seat while my dad got into the drivers seat. We fastened our seat belts and we headed off to Paonia.
Unexpectedly, the mailman arrived carrying a handbag filled with mail. He quickly walked inside and blurted out to my grandmother who stood in front of him “I have great news”. He opened his handbag and out he took a large envelope with the words Embassy of United States printed on it. He handed it to my grandmother as we eagerly gathered around her. She opened the envelope and began to read to herself. Tears began to run down her cheeks as she found the strength and was able to adapt, overcome at the news, and quickly had made her decision in her mind. Her words came out with confidence “You have won the lottery” she said it to my parents. The message sunk into my chest: We were going to immigrate to America, and this was our ticket to another life. My father reluctant and in disbelief of the news was speechless. After a moment he spoke and said to his mother “We don’t want to leave and leave you behind”. For my grandmother was assertive she reminded him “Son, I want you to know among all that my eyes have seen and the struggles that my