Wait a second!
More handpicked essays just for you.
More handpicked essays just for you.
Narrative essay on migration
Narrative essay on migration
Narrative essay on migration
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
A bus. The yellow lighting of the gas station against the dark hours of midnight. Fast asleep. Silence. My head slumped over my mom's shoulder. Her voice timid and hesitant as she stumbled through a sentence in English at the cash register. A Winnie the Pooh journal. These are the things I remember when I think of when my mom and I immigrated to America.
I was almost 7 at the time, born in Havana, Cuba. My papá is puro Mexicano and we lived back and forth between the heat of Havana and the concrete jungle of Mexico City. I didn't realize it then, but, boy, does it hit me now. I realize how scary it must have been for them. For my mom to leave the streets of Havana where our neighbors were our friends, where we gathered every holiday to eat pork and my grandma's rice and beans, to not hear the malecón and the heartbeat of her city pulsing with every crash of the wave. For my Dad to leave behind his four brothers and sisters, the memory of his parents, the street vendors selling the elotes con mayonesa that I would beg him to get in the mornings
…show more content…
Like my mom said, "I don't know where I'm going, but I can't stay here." And that was enough.
Why were we packing up our stuff? Why was my grandma hugging me tighter than usual? Where were we going? "We're going to Disney World!" That's what my Mom told me when we were crossing the border. She packed a little backpack with my Winnie the Pooh journal and my doll, and we crossed the border from Mexico to the US, seeing my Dad become an ant in the distance as he stayed behind.
Just Disney World. Whenever I have to make a decision now and I'm afraid, my mom always reminds me of that day. "That day, I knew if I thought about it, fear would make me turn back. That's why when you're afraid, you force yourself to jump. You don't think, you just jump," she says to
There is this teenage girl name Leah who lived in New York, she was ending her first year of high school as a freshman at Flushing High School. On the last month of classes around June she was hanging around with her best friend Henry. After class, they would hang out together and go to the city to explore and waste time, but there was one thing Leah had to tell Henry, her family had to move to Mexico because her parents thought that they will have a better life. So Leah had to leave with them. She told Henry about her moving with her family to Mexico, so they decided to go out to places before she left. They went out to the theatres, walked around the city, and get something to eat like Burger Kings or McDonalds. It was soon Leah had to leave,
At the age of two my parents made the long and devastating journey to bring me and my siblings to the United States from Mexico. Wanting a brighter future for us, my parents fought tooth and nail to give us the world they didn’t grow up having. Ever since stepping foot on the U.S soil, going back seemed impossible. The effects of this life-changing move, couldn’t mask the unforeseen disadvantages. Lacking exposure to Mexico’s colorful culture, little to no bonding time with my family from abroad, and the struggle of trying to blend into an environment that was so different, soon began to interfere with my overall identity. Realizing this, my wonderful parents prepared a transformative trip back to my homeland, and back to the past, facing
While going through the state of Oklahoma it was not so bad, however, going through Texas was going to take forever. Taking an airplane was going to cost too much money so instead we traveled in a car. I look out of the car window and watched the sun go down, I began to fall asleep. I open my eyes and see bright lights. It was the border of Mexico. I look around seeing a great amount of cars and buses full of people who are eagerly wanting to be with their families in Mexico. After waiting in a
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
I am an chinese and mexican american. You might think those are the best mixes of race you can get but you are truly wrong? Growing up in a small farm town in the outskirts of San Diego I truly wish I was white like the rest of the kids at my school. For the hardships I have faced with race discrimination I am truly ashamed of being the color and human genetics I have.
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
My mother was one of the four children that were able to come to the Unites States for a chance at a new life. My mother’s story of her journey to the United States really shows her courage she had to accomplish her dream. My mother and her older sister crossed together thru Tijuana in 1985. At the age of 15 my mother was terrified, but had a lot of determination to face any obstacle in the way. She remembers crossing the border late at night, and she will never forget the growling noises that she heard in the dark. She made it to Salinas the very next day in the evening, and was reunited with her sibling’s and
United States usually known as the “melting pot” and it is a typical immigrant country. In the past 400 years, United States has become a mixture of more than 100 ethnic groups. Immigrants bring they own dream and come to this land, some of them looking for better life for themselves and some want to make some money to send back home or they want their children to grow up in better condition. Throughout the history there’s few times of large wave of immigration and it is no exaggeration to say that immigrants created United States. For this paper I interview my neighbor and his immigration story is pretty interesting.
In 1975, my mother’s parents had gone to America to try to find a stable job so they could later bring their children, to live a happier life since most of Mexico believed that America was where you
I actually went to Mexico for the first time in 2007, when I was 12. The whole experience was not what I expected but it to be, because I still had a childish mentality at the time. From that perspective, I did not look at my surroundings and digest what they meant. So because of my lack of understanding, I felt compelled to go back a few years later.
Immigrants have incredible stories about their arriving to the United States. Most come to try and start a new life. I interviewed Cesar Gonzalez, my step-father. He is 30 years of age and was born on June 14th, 1987 in San Miguel, Bolivar Province, Ecuador. Cesar migrated to the United states on July 4th, 1999. I interviewed him because he is the person I know that immigrated from a South American country. The United States has had a huge impact on hm since he arrived.
“We’re moving,” said my mother after she had enough. I just wanted to make her happy after everything she had been through. She lived an arduous life: she escaped communist Vietnam, only to settle down and subsequently deal with a decaying marriage that forced her to raise me alone. I didn’t ask questions or wonder about all the things I was leaving behind. In the long run, I just wanted to please everyone.
Considering the fact that I am of African American decent my family has mostly lived in the United States since the early 1800s. So, rather than speak of that long journey I choose to speak of the adventures of my mother and I.
I can remember my mother rushing us to the bathroom, while speaking in a Jamaican language, trying to get us ready for school. I was the youngest of five siblings. We lived in a large house on an acre of land with all the fruits you can imagine. I eat fresh produce from our farm in every morning. She was burdened with this task because my father died while we were young. Luckily my mother was very adamant about us getting a good education. Before my dad died, life was less stressful for the family. My mother was a high school English teacher and father worked as a dentist. By not having the success of two incomes, it put a big strain on us, but my mother was determining to make ends meet. Three years passed while my only parent struggled with five kids on a teacher’s salary. She then weighed her option on coming to the united states for a better opportunity, even if it cost not being with her kids. She chose
Mexico, Oaxaca the two words that come to my mind. I was seven years old, when I over heard my parents talking at the dining table. Conversating about going to Mexico with the family. I crawl slowly tours them from the hall way and jump " we going to Mexico!! ' my heart beating faster then a race car. I never been to Mexico, especially Oaxaca. I 've only have heard storys of my parents home land and seen