I twitched with excitement but fright was coursing through my veins, this was the day I had to face one of my biggest fears: moving. Moving is terrifying- but this was to a new level, since I was leaving the country I had called home for so many years and the family which I had lived with for my whole life in order to appease my father’s work schedule. I glanced at my Babushka at the terminal, and squeezed her hand- it was time to move on. I board the plane squeezing my mom 's hand. I wake up with the plane jiggling and realize we are in my new home: America. I step off the plane and start walking with my parents, I’m a little nervous to see who else is apart of my family here.. I remember the last day I spent in Russia, we were with my family and had a party we would go out …show more content…
I knew that was going to one of the things I would miss the most. I try to think of what my new family was going to be like. A thought of an American family pops in my head like the ones I see on the TV, a white picket fence, with a perfect housewife and I think this is the opposite of my family. My family was untraditional, in Russia it was normal for the grandparents to raise the kids while the parents worked. I would always see my grandmother as my mom. Thinking about what I grandma did for me didn 't seem like something my mom would be good at or even want to do. While I was growing up everybody would say I’m more like my mom and my sister is more like my dad so I always just assumed that when/if we ever moved to America I would be completely opposite since me and my sister are opposites. The reason why I always thought like that was because I was not used
I remember the first time I came to America; I was 10 years old. Everything was exciting! From getting into an airplane, to viewing magnificent, huge buildings from a bird’s eye view in the plane. It was truly memorable. After staying few days at my mother’s house, my father and I wanted to see what Dallas looks like. But because my mother was working the whole day, it wasn’t convenient for her to show us the area except only on Sundays. Finally, we went out to the nearby mall with my mother. My father and I were astonished after looking at a variety of stores. But after looking at different stores, we were finally tired and hungry, so we went into McDonald’s. Not being familiar with fast food restaurants, we were curious to try American
present because they had to stay in Mexico. The truth is that I knew my uncles, since I would see them at family reunions every now and then, but I never
In the beginning of September 2005, disappointment and excitement revealed on my face when I boarded the plane to move to the United States of America. The feeling of leaving my families, friends, school, clothes, and culture in Cameroon presented a hardship for me on this journey. Of course, I anticipated this new life because it indicated a fresh start. I envisioned it resembling life in movies, where everything appeared to be simple and life was simply excellent. All things considered, I was heading off to the United States, known for the American dream. To me it meant that everyone is given equal opportunity to prosper, achieve a family, and attain a successful job as long as they are hardworking and determined. I felt exceptionally honored and blessed to have this open door since I realized that it was not provided to everybody. Coming to America denoted my transitioning on the grounds that I deserted my previous lifestyle in Cameroon, began a new chapter in my life once again, and finally became a much grateful individual.
I walked around unsteadily all day like a lost baby, far away from its pack. Surrounded by unfamiliar territory and uncomfortable weather, I tried to search for any signs of similarities with my previous country. I roamed around from place to place and moved along with the day, wanting to just get away and go back home. This was my first day in the United States of America.
“You are in America, speak English.” As a young child hearing these words, it did not only confuse me but it also made me question my belonging in a foreign country. As a child I struggled with my self-image; Not being Hispanic enough because of my physical appearance and not being welcomed enough in the community I have tried so hard to integrate myself with. Being an immigrant with immigrant parents forces you to view life differently. It drives you to work harder or to change the status quo for the preconceived notion someone else created on a mass of people. Coming to America filled me with anxiety, excitement, and even an unexpected wave of fear.
Throughout my life I have been traveling to and from New York and it has pretty much became a regular part of my life. I have left and came back multiple times over the years, from going on vacations to moving for good, but the most significant time was when I was moving out of New York when I was a kid. My parents had a reason to move down to Philadelphia so they decided that’s what we were going to do. Since I was born here and spent most of my early childhood here, the thought of living somewhere else was strange to me, as it would for almost any kid at that age, and I didn’t really know how life would be like outside of the neighborhood where I’m from. The part of New York where I grew up at was very neighborhoody in the Bronx, everyone
In order to adequately depict my feelings, I must start at the beginning. In the fall of 1996, I embarked on my maiden NYC voyage. Armed with a camera, city guide, and my little sister, I headed for New York to discover myself. As I began this adventure, I had no idea how it would end. When I landed at JFK I was a little girl, trying to have some fun, but by the time I boarded the plane to head home my world had changed.
As I boarded the plane to move to the United States, the beginning of September 2005, I couldn’t help but think about all that I left behind; My family, my friends, my school, my clothes, and all of the awesome cultural food. Then again, I looked forward to this new life, a new beginning. I imagined it being like life in the movies, where everything seemed easy and life was just beautiful. After all, I was going to the States; the place where most people only dreamt of. I felt very blessed to have this opportunity because I knew that it wasn’t given to everyone. Coming to America marked my coming of age because I left behind my old life, I started life afresh, and I became a much grateful person.
We got off from plane and headed towards the exit. My cousins and my family case worker were already their waiting for us. I was so shocked and the same time I was so happy to meet with my cousins after 6 years. This days too when I went to airport reminds me of that day. We collect bags and headed towards my cousin’s house, I was so hungry and I asked my cousin “what kind of food you made” she knew that we love Nepali cosine so she had made Nepali cosine. We ate food after that I went upstairs to rest. I was so excited and little bit scared to be here and start my new life in USA because I knew that USA life is different than Nepalese life style, however that day was my best day ever in my life. I felt like my dream came true. I had a lot of things going through my mind. Like what am I going to do, what is best for me things like
It was time for us to leave and board the plane to America. I was very excited to get to America, I was also anxious to see my Dad who I haven’t seen in months. The flight was long, I can remember in the air was my first time feeling turbulence, whoa let me tell you it was a scary one it felt like the plane was about to crash. I was anxious for the plane to land. When we arrived we exited out the plane and head out to the train inside the airport in order to go to U.S. customs and border protection, to get our documents sorted out, so that we could enter the country.
It is 5:30 in the morning, and I still fill like I am dreaming. The officer asks for my Passport, I give it to him and look back. My mother with her face wet with tears says something, but the words do not reach me. I have to move on, but I know this is a moment of extreme importance in my life. Somebody by my side tells an anecdote; everybody is laughing, but I felt deep in my thoughts. My flight to New York is in less than 30 minutes.
I had had the time of my life those first three days, and it was only half over. But the time came to finally leave and head back to the “real world”. I was lucky enough to ride in the twenty-passenger plane with my dad.
I was born in a run down hospital in the middle of Nazareth, Ethiopia. My family immigrated to The United States of America when I was four. This fact plays a pivotal role in who I perceive myself to be and how I carry myself. The first few years of my life are incumbent in my memory and have an effect on my continual thoughts. To me, coming to America meant opportunities that are not present in a third world country. I am a foreigner whose parents decided to plant the seeds of tomorrow in a distant but propitious land. As a direct result of their initiative, we have found ourselves flourishing in this non-native land we have come to call home.
As I looked out across O’Hare Airport in Chicago, the reality hit me. I was going across an ocean from my parents. I felt sad, and even more nervous than before. I hugged my dad, and then went through security. It took several minutes, but everything I had turned out not to be a
Growing up in a blended family I experienced what it was like to have a different dad than my siblings. I would see my sisters leaving every other weekend to go see their dad and I remember how they hated it. I was thankful that I did not have to go through what they did and I thought I was so lucky to have both parents at home. Well not to long after that it was my turn to do all the packing up and going to my dad’s house