Wait a second!
More handpicked essays just for you.
More handpicked essays just for you.
American dream and success
The american dream personal narrative
American dream about success essay
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
The American Identity is more than just being a citizen in America. What makes the American Identity is the diversity that exists in America. America is a melting pot, which consists of many ethnic groups, religions, and ideas. It isn’t the appearance that makes you American, it is your mind and the way one acts make one American. I am a kid who is part Korean, French, and Chinese.
The American experience is not unfamiliar to me, I have been visiting America since I was a child and as a child I always wanted to move to America. My first visit here I fell in love with the culture specifically the freedom of expression. However the opportunity did not emerge for me to move to America legitimately and as promising young child, I did not want to damage my future by moving to a country illegally where I could not live to my full potential. I stayed in Jamaica and I completed my University education as a registered nurse and had become comfortable with my life in Jamaica. I started working the spring of 2013 and upon receival of my first paycheck, I was reminded that this is not the place I wanted to be.
My parents perpetually encourage me to have a commitment to education, it enables knowledge, power, and freedom. They teach me to go after my dreams, and always remind me “Nothing comes easy, you must work hard for your goals.” When I first came to the U.S, I was too young to understand my educational disadvantages. Throughout the years, I relentlessly worked hard to excel in my academics, my persistence allowed me to consistently exceed expectations. In the spring of my freshman year, I was selected as a National Honor Society student by my school.
My identity has always felt inextricably linked to what Miami is. A city that is teeming with immigrants, a city with dreams stacked and slopped atop each other, and a city that is living proof of the failed American dream. I say so because of my early observation that generation after generation of immigrants often seemed to stay trapped in dead end jobs; I saw this within my own family – within my grandmother, my aunts and uncles, and even my cousins. Here it was even within my own family tree the deep implicit message that there was no way out of our socioeconomic level. When I made it into an Ivy League college, it was a message that was slowly re-enforced by the fact that my demographic was the most represented in the custodial staff rather than within my own classmates.
I grew up as a poor immigrant child from Italy. I grew up into an American Dream from a immigrant into an all American, New York Yankee all star center fielder Background info: I was born on November 25, 1914, in Martinez, California. I grew up as a poor Italian immigrant with 8 other siblings. When I was one my parents moved to north beach, San Francisco for a better life. I used baseball as a getaway from fishing with my father.
On my father’s first day in America, he was shoved into a compact 1-person apartment along with two other refugees and was merely granted $19 a week to accommodate for basic expenses, including food and transportation. Despite such desperate circumstances, he maintained an optimistic outlook, and while hard times were ahead, my father knew that new opportunities were also awaiting him in the land where the American Dream thrives. My father initially left Vietnam as a last desperate hope to escape Vietnam’s strict communist government, where a future of military service was inevitable for young boys, who came from families of lower social statuses. As an orphan, my father fell victim to poverty and suffered from food insecurity and insufficient
January 11, 2013, I wake up to yelling, prayers, and crying. I walked into the kitchen where all the noises were coming from and I found my mother on the floor crying, talking on the phone with my godmother. My father was there by her side, trying hard not to cry while supporting his wife. I didn’t know what was happening, this was the first time I’ve seen my mom so vulnerable and broken. My parents didn’t tell me anything other than my grandmother was in critical condition at the hospital, but with god's help she would overcome this hard time.
In 2006 I moved to California with my parents, to pursue the American Dream that was dreamed by every foreigner It was seen as a great way to escape the danger and poverty we faced everyday in Peru. When we finally got here, the american dream was a myth, and working hard barely got you anywhere. Since day 1 both my parents have worked more than 40 hours a week to get food on the table, and the table back in Peru. They both support their parents and siblings financially, meaning there is no aid for me here. I wake up to do everything by myself, cook, clean, go to school, and especially homework.
I lived as a foreigner in America for 15 years. The day I became an American citizen was one of the easiest, yet hardest days of my life. The process itself was quite simple. My parents had already been naturalized, so all I had to do was take the Oath of Allegiance and sign the Certificate of Naturalization. However, in that short one-hour ceremony, I had relinquished my Indian citizenship, losing something I had from birth, and had pledged myself to “the home of the free and the land of the brave.”
Crack, the ball ripped far into left field, I shot up from my hard plastic blue seats, Chase Utley did it again. He rounded the bases one by one and slid smoothly into second. “That’s a double for Chase Utley,” the announcer Dan Baker said, over the intercom. I sat back down to a light tap on my shoulders, I turned around.
Robert H. Schuller once said “Let your hopes, not your hurts, shape your future. ”Growing up in a middle class family, I was a very mundane child; I go to schoolandgo out with friendslike most kids do, I wasn’t very into any sports, I just like playing out door. Meanwhile time passes on, and I was moved to America. Moving to the United State was a new beginning for me; becauseI have to learn everything about their culture. Sport in the U.S is very bigand popularto most people, so I startedto learn about them more and I started havinginterest
As election time draws near, I can not help thinking more and more of my vision for America. Election time makes us think about our visions and our values, for our government, our nation, and maybe even ourselves, but our visions must always be in our minds. Without constant thought and hard work, visions cannot be fruitful. I envision the nation our founding fathers would have wanted to emerge from their efforts, a hopeful nation, blessed by God and enlivened by faith. America should protects every life, from conception to the grave.
My Vision for America There are billions of people in the world. They all have different visions of America. Some want flying cars, some want loads of money, some just want justice. My vison, however, is different. My vision for America is equality, better Medicare, and freedom.
My vision for America is that we can have peace everywhere we go not having to worry about their futures being corrupted. Hopefully that someday America’s troops won’t have to be in foreign countries fighting for their lives and in possible danger. That nobody will worry about terrorist taking over and ruining futures. Children going to school not knowing that there could be another kid there with a gun or even a bomb. These events are happening today
When I was a year old, my mother and I left everything behind in Mexico to start a new life here in the United States. Of course, being young, I had no idea of the tremendous consequences that would be implicated upon my family and my future. She came here so we could have a chance to live the American Dream and escape the poverty and crime there was in Mexico. It was a hard decision my mother made at the time but it was the best for the both of us. When I look back on my childhood I wondered to myself how did I get through it, cause I guess you can say that I really never had a childhood like the other kids.