26 years ago. 9 thousand, 4 hundred, and 90 days have passed since I’ve been living this American dream. 26 years ago, I boarded a flight that changed my life forever. A flight that took me from a small town in Cape Verde to the land of the free, America, was the easiest decision I’ve ever made. Yes, I had to leave my family, the only thing I've ever known, but it was the right thing to do. When my sister left Cabo Verde for Boston, it was the best decision she ever made. For herself and us. I knew I could do the same. I wanted to provide for my family and give them a life they could only dream of. Living in Cabo Verde was hard. My parents worked tirelessly to put food on the table and provide us with the bare necessities like fresh water and a roof over our heads. But it was never enough. Money was scarce, and opportunities were limited. When I was 15, my older sister moved to America, and that changed everything. She was sending $200 a month. It made a significant difference in our lives. We were able to afford things that were previously out of our reach, and it gave us hope. …show more content…
I put a lot of effort into getting my own barbershop, which I slowly renovated to make something I was proud of. We bought homes and made investments in our future after I met my wife and had three kids. As I reflected on my journey, I saw that taking chances and working hard had been worthwhile. I was appreciative of the chances I was given and the people who helped me along the way. Although life wasn't always simple, it was worthwhile. Now being here 26 years later I finally grasped the American Dream. I have my own house with my own family, my own money, and my own freedom. I don't worry much about where I came from. I tried so hard to leave that life behind that I now consider myself more American than African. After everything I have been through I feel like I deserve to be American I feel like I'm the definition of
“What was it like?” I asked, scrambling to keep up with my aunt. She paused, her tall thin frame standing in the doorway. Dishes lay scattered around us. Dinner had ended hours ago, and everybody was upstairs..
Anxiety, it’s the feeling that came over me when I arrived at the airport to come to America. I was born in Brasil, it was my home. So boy was I shocked when I heard that we were moving to the United States, and I was only six years old. My parents thought we would have a better life here in America because, with all the “opportunities” it offered, it was the place to be. My father flew over one month before I was scheduled to; he planned on getting everything situated by finding a job and a place for us to live.
On January 5th , 1988 , my mother, Rosita Rancharan immigrated to the U.S from a small city in Belize named Corozal. Although she was married and had a teaching job that kept her economically stable, when her papers came out she decided to immigrate to America because she saw greater economic opportunity. At the time she was building a house with her husband , but she did not want to take out loans to build it. Originally she had just come here to stay for a couple of months so that she could send money back home to her husband to help build their house. But eventually she became more adjusted to living here and decided to stay here and build a foundation.
My life took an interesting turn when my mother told me I would be moving to a different country, fear took over my body because that meant I would have to start from zero. On January 1st, 2011 my mom gave me the exciting news that her fiancée, now husband, had started the process to bring her to the United States so she could become a permanent resident, live with him, form a family and start a brand new life. I remember her face blighting up to every time she spoke a word but that smile faded once she told me I could not come with at that time because of the expense of the process. I understood why she could not bring me with. We had economic and emotional issues going on.
I was raised under a belt held by my father. To this day I can still recall the days I witnessed my father 's abuse to my family physically and emotionally. My family was tightly gripped by my father; which resulted to my sisters and I fearing him as we grew up. As a child, I was the one who got hit the most.
When I was six years old, living in Ethiopia, my dad won an American green card visa lottery among 53,000 people. Although it was exciting news, family members were discouraged because my dad could not afford the visa processing and traveling expense. However, he found a sponsor in Seattle, which allowed him to settle in America. As soon as he found a good house and a stable job, he started the process for me and my family. Multiple errors and obstacles delayed our processing for five years.
The first eight years of my life, I spent in India where I was born. Growing up I was constantly reminded by my parents that I needed to make them proud by getting a good job and living a good lifestyle. They told me this because they did not want to see me live a hard life like they did. When I was nine years old, I moved from India to the United States of America. The reason why I moved to America was not because I was living a bad life in India, it was so that I could have a better education and more opportunities in life.
I used to have this grudges in my heart when everything go hard that would made me wanted to blame my parent. But I can’t because I was not raise to think that way. When I come to America, I was eleven years old and no one asked me if I wanted to come it just happen in a second. I was in a cold place with extended family that I never met before and that one person who raise me and made me feel secure was still back in the country. I had to lived months without her and next thing you know I adapted and convince myself they are doing this because the wanted the best for me.
It wasn’t until the day I heard someone say those words that I realized that everything really had changed. Not so long ago, my family and I immigrated to the United States in search for a better life and more opportunities than we had in the D.R.C. We had to sneak away from our comfortable home in the small town we lived in, hoping that no one would see us leaving. We spent about five hours on the airplane flying to our capital, Kinshasa, where my family and I spent about two months living in a two bedroom apartment in some pretty uncomfortable conditions. Then we spent about 19 hours flying to the United States. Despite the conditions we encountered and the hours spent on our journey, we finally made it, however, settling in wasn’t easy, but we survived.
As I ponder over my life, each memory seems identical to the other, and I find myself drifting through a reality of similar events that generate the same memories and emotions. Looking back further into my childhood includes memories of my homeland. I remember entering a new world at the age of five, where all of my later memories would be formed. This was when my family moved to the United States from Peru, my native country in the South. The complete change in culture and values truly impacted me when I first moved to Florida, and I reflect over the significant effect it has had on my character during the last thirteen years of my life.
No matter who you are or where you have come from, you have undoubtedly heard of the American Dream. The idea that no matter who you are or where you have come from, you can do whatever it is you desire in America. What was once one the main driving forces for immigrants to flock to the new world, has slowly changed over the years, but still holds its value in the eyes of those who are looking for a promising new place to live. The American dream might not hold the same awe inspiring sound that it once did, but for many generations before ours, it was a beacon of hope that helped build the foundation that the United States was built on. And still today the American dream might not be as achievable as it once was, but it is still an important symbol to the American ideology.
My Journey to America Moving from Nigeria to the United States permanently feels great, but at the same time it is sad leaving some of your loved ones and family behind. There are many events in life, which can change one’s way of thinking. As for me, one of the major changes in my life occurred when I moved from Africa to America. This change has entirely affected my personality positively. Why?
Moving to a new country can be difficult sometimes. Leaving all my relatives and friends back home was the saddest thing for me. My mother told me that we were moving to a new country. At first, I thought my mother was joking about it. but little did I know that she was telling the truth.
The American Dream has developed over the years with changes in the economy, education, freedoms, and immigration. Many people have developed
The debt my parents has on me, I felt like I am paying something off. Now you might wonder why I 'm telling you my life story. I believe this journey from Bangladesh to the United States has transformed me into a completely different person. Throughout this journey, I have learned a lot more about myself. I am determined to try and overcome any challenge that comes along the way.