The first time my mother told me that we were going to move to Florida was when I was in the 3rd grade in 2005. I asked her “Why are we moving?” She responded “Because I want to start over with you and your little brother.” I asked “Why Florida?” She replied “We have family over there and they can show us around.” My mother let me go to my 3rd grade class for one last time. I was pleased and excited to move to a new place where I can meet new friends and have a good time with my family. But inside I was feeling somewhat sad because I was going to miss all my friends from elementary and not remember some of their names. My mom made me a shirt so everyone I knew at school could write on it. All my friends wrote on my shirt that day. My mother also threw a farewell party, friends and family came over. Everyone enjoyed themselves, at least from what I seen. Then the moment came when we had to leave. We said “Bye” to everyone we loved and off we went. We traveled from where we lived, Pennsylvania to Florida. We hit Georgia and the car broke down. But we got that fixed and went on our way....
When I was 7 years, I moved from my home in Australia to the other side of the planet to Dallas Texas. When I heard that I was moving, I felt a wave of despair wipe over me. As Taylor says “I have never in my own memory been outside of Kentucky” (Kingsolver 12). This was the same for me since I had never been
It was the fall of 2010 and little did I know that my world was about to change drastically. We had moved back to Kenosha, Wisconsin in 2008 after living in Mexico, and I was starting to enjoy my life in the dairy state. My 6th Grade classes had just started at Bullen Middle School. It was right at this time when my world seemingly got flipped upside down. My parents had a family meeting and informed my siblings and me that we were moving to a small Iowa town called Orange City. I had feelings of nervousness, excitement, and sadness all mixed together.
Moving from Michigan to Florida has been a true eye opener on various levels and has allowed me the opportunity to grow culturally. I have learned so much from various individuals and experiences in just a short three-year period. Before
At first, the idea of my family and me moving to the United States was fun and exciting. I couldn’t wait for the time for my family and me to leave, get to ride an airplane, eat stateside food such as spam, corned beef, apples, and oranges, and experience the different seasons, especially winter. Because of the excitement of coming to America, I didn’t have the time to think and realize the effects of moving away from home such as missing everything, adopting a different culture, and being independent. The major effect of moving to a different country, especially moving during my third year of high school, and the most familiar one was missing everything such as family, friends, food, and scenery.
I stayed in Texas for two years until one day I came home from school to find my mom packing up all of our belongings into our big red Toyota truck. She said “Pack up all your stuff, we’re leaving to stay with Jennifer and Jordan”--Mom’s best friend and my childhood friend-- “so we’re driving to Mississippi”. I stared at her for about two minutes as she hustled to pack her clothes into her suitcases but, I went to my room, went through my closet and started packing too. We finished the whole house in a matter of hours, we picked up my little brother from daycare and said goodbye to
On the day the drug film was to be shown in Mr. George's science class, I took my assigned seat at the rear center cluster of desks, directly across from a girl named Maria. She was at least a head taller than I was, with a few freckles, and long brown hair that covered most of her face. Like all the girls in my seventh grade class, she wore skirts or casual dresses over a contrasting leotard. She was not especially pretty or popular, not that I had any right to evaluate her. She never smiled, and for however many months she sat directly across from me I don't remember us ever speaking. Her face seemed to be in a permanent scowl, and like most girls, she looked at me with pure hatred.
It was an exciting day for me and I didn’t even know what was going to happen. My grandpa came to my house and then he told my brother Luke and I that he was going to take us on a fishing trip to Canada with his friend. We were so excited when he told us I told Grandpa, “This will be the best summer vacation ever!” After he told us we went and got gear like fishing poles, rain suites and food. When we got to the house the morning we were leaving, he showed us a picture of the cabin we would be staying in for the week. It took us a while to pack the car we all packed some of the same foods.
The day I moved away, a lot of things were going through my young mind. As I took my last look at my home, I remembered all the fun times I had with my family and friends through out my life. Now I was moving 800 miles away from all of that with no insight on what lied ahead for me. As my family and I drove away from our Michigan home, I looked out the window wondering what Virginia would be, and what my friends were doing. A lot of things were going through my mind at the time. At the time my main worry was if I would make any friends, and how I would adjust to everything. During the whole drive down, my mother would often let me know that everything would be all right and I would like it. Trying to be strong and hold back my tears, I just shook my head no, wondering why we had to move so far away. Life would be different for me and I knew it would.
A few months before all of this I was pleased with my calm life in a local city of Taiwan. I settled there at the age of two with my family, and things were going well so far. Because I lived there for ten years, the longest time that I ever spent living in one place, I had made really good friends and was not looking forward to any significant changes although my mom had told me a long time ago, we might move to USA to settle with our uncle and grandma. My mom also told me that the other reason we move is for a better education and life there but I was not listening at that time. I thought she was just joking around because my brother and I have always expected to have a vacation to other countries. By the time I finished my first year of middle school I knew that this was nearly impossible. My family was already packing up, cleaning out the house, and reserving four airplane tickets to USA.
When I was nine years old, my parents, two siblings, and uncle decided that it was time for us to move from Missouri up to chilly Massachusetts. Both my uncle and father were construction workers. There were so many projects in Massachusetts, it was sensible for us to move. Financially, this was also the solution to our money problems. All around we were all very excited for this move, all except for myself. About halfway to Massachusetts, I had a gut feeling that this was a bad decision. Upon arrival, I felt like a fish out of water and, I was. Everything was so different compared to how Missouri was.
I was born and raised in Buffalo, New York and it’s all I’ve ever known. When I was younger my parents took me on little short trips like, Toronto and Columbus, Ohio. I was young, so I didn’t really remember a lot that was going on or different about the two places. When I got older, I decided I wanted a change in my life but did not know what or where. In September of 2003, I was invited to my cousin’s wedding in Charlotte, North Carolina. I decided to go and when I did, I did not want to return back to Buffalo. Of course, I had to come back to Buffalo because I was only visiting. I had made up in my mind right then, Charlotte, North Carolina was the place for my children and me. I decided to move to Charlotte before Christmas of that year. My experiences were years to remember. I stayed in Charlotte for a total of seven years. During the years I had been living in Charlotte, my most memorable experiences were the weather and the commuting.
Where do I start? How do I begin a farewell when I still can't believe you're gone? How do I say goodbye to a part of my soul?
It was a beautiful, sunny day in South Florida. I was six years old, playing by the pool with my new puppy. I loved swimming in the pool almost every day after school. I also enjoyed going out on our boat after school or crossing the street and going to the beach. My father came home one evening with some interesting news. Now, I do not remember exactly how I felt about the news at that time, but it seemed like I did not mind that much. He had announced that we were going to move back to my birth country, Belgium. I had been living in Florida for five years and it was basically all I had known so I did not know what to expect. I had to live with my mom at first, and then my sister would join us after she graduated high school and my father finished settling things. I remember most of my earlier childhood by watching some old videos of me playing by the pool and dancing in the living room. It seemed like life could not get any better. However, I was excited and impatient to experience a new lifestyle. I realized that I could start a whole new life, make new friends and learn a new language. Belgium was not as sunny as South Florida but it has much better food and family oriented activities. Geographic mobility can have many positive effects on younger children, such as learning new languages, being more outgoing, and more family oriented; therefore, parents should not be afraid to move around and experience new cultures.
Without moving to Florida, I wouldn’t have this one distinctive friendship. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and evidentially in this specific case. Through this one friendship, I developed my love for the Lord. I became closer to God than ever before. I became immensely tolerant, unconditionally loveable and utterly forgiving. I forgave my dad for putting me through all of these imbricating situations. I learned that my narcissistic ways were impulsive and I needed to be selfless. I became closer to my dad, and he is the closest person to me
Difference is something that can be hard to pin-point especially, I think, in hindsight. The first encounter with something unfamiliar can easily be remembered in the context of what was learned following the meeting. To some extent this is true of my first conscious experience of meeting someone who was different from me. When I look back and consider my age, my mindset at the time and the way the meeting was treated by those closest to me; it is not surprising to find that the experience feels incredibly normal.