Personal Narrative Essay: Moving To The United States

My mind takes me back to a time when I woke up to the aroma of food from street vendors through the homes that sit in a tightly compacted neighborhood. I remember growing up as a young boy in an area referred to as “La Laguna” in Mexico. This city was dry in rainfall levels and hope, my family were in the pursuit of an improved standard of living when they decided they wanted to move to the United States. Temporary living on the border made it tempting to go across a bridge and never come back. I saw America as elysium and Mexico as fool’s paradise, where the violence was rare and financial stability was so common. Corruption spoils the opportunity of the ordinary person in Mexico. I felt the ruthlessness of greed from local, regional, and national political figures. As young adults, my parents were being persecuted by the Mexican government for not appearing in court, through accusations that were false, so they lived in the United States illegally for a few years after the expiration of their travel visa. It took about a decade for the court case to be dismissed and dropped by the prosecutors. After the

All the kids from the neighborhood gathered together on the street collecting used plastic bottles to create stationed goals.The intensity rose when the natural light of the sun dims. Outdated street lights, and shouts after a player got ridiculed on the court, created an atmosphere I have yet to encounter in the United States. This is “The Concrete Jungle“, where respect is earned by executing elusive skill moves against opponents and the only existing fan base are your opponents waiting to capitalize on your missed opportunities. Countless hours spent playing small soccer games helped me accelerate my competitive attitude which granted me an opportunity my family never thought existed, and helped me escape from all the issues my family was