I still remember the first time I went to mexico. I was going turn 8 years old I was short and chubby I was wearing all black because I like wearing black. How ever I was sad I was going to leave all my thing like my room I had a big bed and a big tv and a console so I took the decision to take it with me so I can entertain myself. We were just waiting for my to check if there were no problems with the van because we were packed up already. Four minutes later he finished checking the van we left the houses all alone with no one to take care of it. When we were just going to get on the freeway the was a red light there was something white coming out the front of of the van. Then we fixed the place was small with a lot of cool red cars.We
The time I was lost at Walmart, I was six years old I was mad about something and that’s when I started wandering off somewhere until finally I turned around my mom was gone I looked all around couldn’t find her anywhere the feeling of me being by myself without know one being here with me to protect me or be here with me, I felt like I lost her forever and that I can’t find her anywhere because Walmart was like a huge store so it was gonna be tough to find her, after a while I started crying and calling her name “mom!”, at that moment one of the employees at the store helped me find my mom by operating on this entercom and called her name luckily I knew her name because if I didn’t how else will I suppose to find her, next they called her
Since before I was born, my Hispanic heritage played a huge role in who I am and what I have achieved. My great-grandfather immigrated to this country with the desire to provide his family with a better future than his own. My grandpa grew up in Texas on the boarder of Mexico and traveled to Blue Island, Illinois as migrant crop worker. This desire passed down by my grandparents and my great-grandparents has played a tremendous role in propelling me to where I am today. Each generation sought to make the the lives of their children better than their own. My grandma received the opportunity to live in the country of opportunity from her father, and my grandpa paid for my mom to get an education. My mother pushed me to do my best in school and
I was born in Guanajuato, Mexico in Oct, 1994 to a young couple named Jovita and Miguel. I was raised in the country side, in a small town in the big state of Guanajuato, Mexico. I am one on the three children in my family to be exact I’m the middle one in my family. I have my brother Rolando he is the older one and I have a little sister Karen. My parents don’t have so much education they barely finished middle school in Mexico. My mother drop out of middle school because at that time she had to work to help my grandparents at home. Because my grandparents had my mother and other older uncles also drop out school to start working to bring some extra money to the house. My father also drop out of middle school to star working in the ranch that my other grandparents had with Cows ,Pigs ,Chickens and the growth of corn, and wheat.
I’m a Mexican-American. Growing up in a hispanic household has made me stand out from my classmates. In Appleton North High School, I am one out of the many few students that come from a Hispanic household. I often feel intimidated by my classmates but learned to love every bit of it. I am proud to know I am a successful student representing hispanics in my school; taking many AP classes as well as leadership. I plan to continue representing minority at my school as well as empowering young latinos to follow their dreams of attending college.
I was born into a home, to parents who fostered a deep appreciation for culture, not just my own but all cultures. They taught me that every people and ethnicity contributes something beautiful to the human experience through their music, wisdom, humor, food, architecture, knowledge, and humanity. Perhaps their love of all cultures made me appreciate my own so profoundly. I am of Mexican-American heritage, and I carry with me the values of a proud, gentle, hard-working, passionate people.
In 1997, I was born In Mount Sinai Hospital in Manhattan. My parents, both Nicaraguans, had been living in New York for three years. In my younger years I visited my grandparents in Managua often. Both y brother and I, enjoyed the sense of family that we experienced when we traveled to Nicaragua. When we were in Nicaragua we would reunite with our cousins, uncles and other family members and friends. We were closely knit when we were in Nicaragua. We would celebrate when we were all together. One of these traditions was the celebration of The Pudisima. Yearly the Assumption of Mary is held on December 7. On this day we prayed, sang, and celebrated with food and fireworks. Caheta, caramel candy, and horchata, a beverage made with ground almonds,
Going back to Mexico after ten years is a little crazy but it was worth the ride. I will always recognize Mexico as my home but America as a special place in my heart.
I was born to two indigenous parents of Southern California. My mother is Cahuilla and my father is Luiseno. I was surrounded by the Cahuilla culture my whole life. Although I grew up surrounded by the Cahuilla culture I don’t know a lot about the culture like I should. There have been opportunities to learn more about the Cahuilla culture, however, I neglected those opportunities. I would avoid participating in cultural games, cultural classes, and cultural celebrations. I would try so hard to hide my ethnicity and culture from people because I was too worried about what people would think because of stereotypes. I wanted to avoid the awkward conversations of people assuming indigenous people have loads money, we don't have to pay taxes, we
I was born in Chicago and lived with my parents for a while. When I was six years old my parents got divorced, I never saw my father after that. After that, we moved to Arkansas. Soon after that my mother got deported to Mexico. we had to move to Mexico now. It was tough because I only spoke English at the time. Me and sister of only four years of age were separated from our mom for over a year because they would not let my mom out of the immigration facility. That was the most painful year of my life. This made me very sad and. I still remember the day I saw my mom for the very first time after all that time. She looked so different than I had remembered her. I would live in Mexico for the next six years. When I entered middle school, I was
When I was seventeen years old and going into my senior year of high school I was given the opportunity to go on a trip to Spain with my school. It was a two week trip during the summer, visiting different cities and historical sites throughout the country. While we where there we went to see a Flamenco dance show in Seville which is about an hour and a half outside of Madrid, the city where we were staying. It was a Wednesday around one o’clock when we left and the ride up there was really beautiful. We were driving through the country side passing some small villages on the side of the road. We arrived there around 3:30 and sat down for the show. It was really cool they had all the ladies with their bright dresses and fruit in their hair dance around while we ate lunch. And the show ended around five and we started to head home. On the way home we were driving through the countryside along side a small village when all of a sudden we heard a loud bang and the bus started slowing down. After a couple of ...
Being the only immigrant child opens the door to a lot of name calling in your family. I have always thought of myself as an American. So it annoyed me a little bit when my my sister or brother called me an immigrant. But it’s ironic because aren't I actually an immigrant myself? The one who came to America from Sri Lanka at nine months old with no papers. Went through extra security in airports because I wasn't yet a citizen. Always had to not only remember my social security but my green card as well . So why do I get frustrated when people label me as an immigrant, when the true matter is that I literally am one. Throughout my life these thoughts continuously go through my head and is still a working progress in which I am trying to figure out what I want to be, and what I’m actually am.
To me being hispanic means more than just an ethnic clarification. Being hispanic is about having a strong and humble sense of heritage. It’s about being proud of where you come from and embracing your family's often hard journey to the United States. It’s about staying true to your values, traditions, and family. It means being part of such a diverse, passionate, and hardworking group of people. When I look in the mirror, not only do I see the struggles and hard work of my grandparents and ancestors, but I also see the future generations which will surpass me.
I represent many things; however, one identity that I will never be ashamed of is my Hispanic heritage. Over the years, my desire of learning more about my heritage has increased. I feel so fortunate that I have been able to experience the traditional food, dances, and music that my culture encompasses. Moreover, now more than ever, I am proud that the Hispanic community is able to stay strong and determined to help one another even they are succumbed to the injustice created by the government administration. Seeing the injustices happening in my communities motivates me to join programs and organizations to support the Hispanic community.
I jumped out of the car with my two sisters and ran to the bathroom. When we left the bathroom, we walked back to the car. We saw that our dad was still putting gas in the car, so we went into the store to buy some sweets. I bought “warheads” that said extremely sour, and a bag of chips called “baked with fire” that looked like they would taste really hot. When we purchased our food, we walked back to the car. As soon as we started driving, I opened my bag of chips. I was so scared that they would be extremely hot. For that reason, I also bought a bottle of water. I opened it before I took a bite out of the chip. Luckily, they were not hot at all! I grabbed my sour candy and tasted it. My face changed so quickly; that I started to squint my eyes and point my lips. I could not take another bite of it because it was really sour! Eventually, I was not hungry anymore. Probably because I ate my whole bag of chips and a sandwich. When I finished eating, I was feeling exhausted, so I took a long nap. I woke up, and dad told me that we only needed to drive for one more hour. While we were driving through town, we saw a row of trees on fire! It was so smoky that we could barely see the street we were driving on. I felt scared for life and terrified that we might crash. After a few more minutes of driving, the smoke cleared up and we could see again. Finally, the hour passed and we arrived in California. Mrs.
Mom and dad where packing up the vehicle.My brothers look like walking zombies as they got up on the van. I couldn 't stop smiling of joy. As we all got in the vehicle to settle in I yell out " Goodbye California, Hello Mexico!!". My parents where not playing when they said it was going to be a long trip, took us at least four days and 3 nights. I just recall that because I slept most of the time. I heard my father say " estamos aqui Gorda ", other words " we here fatty", don 't get my father wrong fatty was a nickname for me since a baby I belive. Hey what can I say I was a pretty chubby kid, but that 's other story.I started to look out the window all ready can see different life style even the air smell different too.I was known to ask many questions as a kid , hey I still do. What can I say I am a curios