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Immigration vs the american dream conclusion
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Immigration vs the american dream conclusion
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Growing up Haitian, it’s the cultural norm for the parents to depend on the oldest to care for the youngest and household needs. At the young age of eight years old, my parents taught me responsibility and how to humble myself. They depended on me while they both worked long hours, my mother as a Certified Nursing Assistant and my father as a truck driver. When my parents were growing up in Haiti, they were the lucky ones to have the opportunity of going to school to gain an education. Haiti is a poor country and poverty is at an all-time high still to this day. So my parents strived to live the American dream and moved from Haiti to Miami and planted within my brother and me the seed to dream big and make a difference. Thanks to my family
Almost twenty years ago, around this time of the month, you had a baby girl on November twenty-six. Like every parent you are happy, smiling at the baby, holding my hands and taking pictures. I grew up, stood up, walked for the first time, said my first words, and lost my baby teeth. It’s time for me to go to my first day of school; you don’t want me to go because you got use to my presence in the house. Meanwhile, you are low-key wishing for me to stay a baby girl, when you know perfectly that it isn’t going to happen.
My family of origin is Haitian. My grandfather was a crop farmer in Haiti. My maternal grandmother passed away when my mother was eight years old. As a result, my mother became somewhat of a foster child. While her father was living, his work prevented him from taking care of her, so he sent her to live with multiple families so that he could provide for her. My mother was abused in many of the homes she was placed in. My Mother came
which I feel that I have the best of both worlds. Along with my mother’s
My husband and I will show her where she's from. She's a beautiful mix of South East Asian and Puerto Rican. She has her whole life ahead of her and she will see it from many different perspectives. I will teach her Hindu, Creole, how to cook curry and about my favorite Bollywood movies. I will dress her in Sarees and take her to religious functions. She will be covered from head to toe in Indian gold. My husband will teach her Spanish, play her his favorite songs and teach her how to dance. I will teach her how to cook Spanish, food (dad is great at making breakfast). We will take her to Puerto Rico, one day. We'll also visit Asia. She will know the two beautiful worlds she comes from.
As a Haitian immigrant, my parents and I would spend our family vacations in our hometown of Port-au- Prince, Haiti. I would enjoy participating in family activities such as card games, cooking, and just the quality time that we spent together. We could play these games and laugh amongst each other for hours, without a care in the world merely telling jokes and listening to the elder parables. Amongst my family I felt untouchable. Like a tree in the wind, my only cares were that of the breeze and the beauty of my foundation. In the sway of the wind I was overcome with a sense of peace.
In August 2005, at the tender age of 7, I received the most devastating news. I was told by my family that a hurricane was coming to my city, New Orleans, Louisiana. Because of this storm, Hurricane Katrina, I was told that I would most likely have to move away for a long time, meaning the rest of my life. My family and I lost everything, and the hurricane ended up destroying the entire city completely. This was heartbreaking to me for a plethora of reasons, including that I lost loved ones and was separated from the rest of my family at such an early age. This ravaging storm marked the most drastic change of my life.
I was born and lived in Haiti for eight years of my life. The poverty there is so high that it has been labeled the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. That is where I grew up. People had homes, but they could often be blown away by strong winds. Our materials for building homes was of very poor quality and limited. We had so little money that I often saw kids and their families sleeping on the side of every street corner. I was one of the most fortunate kids. I remember sleeping on a dirt floor in my grandmother’s little hay house when I was around six years old. At least I had a home. I was put in an orphanage where I was later adopted and brought to the United States. Almost everyday, at the orphanage, the kids and I talked of how
Language can sometimes make us feel not resembled. As it was written on the original piece, Elizabeth didn't like to speak Chinese because it made her feel uncomfortable and sounded ugly to her. I can relate to the author because I am a Cuban immigrant that struggles with the language. I came to the United States when I was thirteen years and was placed on a 8th grade classroom on middle school. I used to be the girl at the end of the classroom who did not have friends and never talked to anyone. It was frustrating that every time I opened my mouth to say a word everybody would laugh at me and make cruel jokes about my little English. I can say that within a couple of months I understood most of the English that was spoken in front of me,
I was born and raised in Vietnam, so I naturally observed my culture from my family and my previous schools. I learned most of my culture by watching and coping the ways my family do things. My family and my friends all spoke Vietnamese, so I eventually knew how to speak and understand deeply about my language as I grew up. At home, my mom cooked many Vietnamese foods, and she also taught me to cook Vietnamese food. So I became accustom Vietnamese food. I also learned that grandparents and parents in my culture are taken care of until they die. At school, I learned to address people formally and greet higher-ranking people first. In Vietnamese culture, ranking and status are not related to wealth, so they are concerned with age and education.
Have you ever wanted to go to Louisiana? I was excited when my dad told me that my parents and I was going. I wanted to try the food there. It was cool going to a different state. I wanted to live there.
Growing up in a Latino community has humbled my vision of life in this country. Experiencing the societal effects that immigration policies and economic policies have on Latinos first hand has impacted me tremendously. My parents immigrated to this country hoping to find a better life for themselves and their kids. Unfortunately, being undocumented presents various challenges in this country. For this reason, since I was around 7 years old I would help my mother and father work. I still remember going to, what seemed to me at the time, as gigantic houses with my mother wondering why the kids there didn’t have to help their mothers work like me. The idea of socioeconomically privileged cultures ultimately became a topic I learned at a young age and became something that motivates me to succeed still today.
It is incredible to understand how the way someone was nurtured as a child could have such an effect on there adulthood. I personally believe that the events that occurred in my early childhood were stepping stones to defined me as the person I am today.
I instill in my son the importance of being happy and never ungrateful for the things he has in life. We are always helping and give to others that are less fortunate because we have so much more than many. On the other hand, because I did not grow up in this type of environment, it is hard to accept the low conditions of how people live in this area. Some of them have little running water, food, or no shoes to wear on their feet. It’s often times upsetting yet extremely humbling so whenever I travel to the Caribbean which is often, I ensure to offer my time and give back by providing supplies, food , or clothing for the
Food is one of human beings favorite addiction. From the arepas, to arroz con coco (coconut rice) there are many different platters from my cultural background. Being Colombian and eating Colombian almost every day brings me closer to these aspects from my culture. The way I feel connected to my Colombian culture is through its food. Many of the meals that I have eaten in my life come from my Colombian culture. Whether I’m home, at my aunt’s house or a family party something that is being made connects me back to my food roots.
Growing up in a country full of poverty and lack of proper medication was a tough environment to be born into. I still remember my mom crying about how she lost my bigger brother due to money struggle and lack of medication. She explained that before my sister and I were born, we had a bigger brother; however upon his birth he was infected and died within seventh day. Lack of medication in a country full of poverty was just what my parent and my bother didn’t need yet couldn’t escape.