Personal Narrative: Growing Up In Haiti

There was not much to do as I grew up in Haiti. I would sit outside for hours until the sun would set, the darkness consuming the little light that once remained. I didn’t know anything besides my house; my mom believed that our safety simply lay inside the house and anything outside was dangerous. Growing up, I didn’t have my father around because he came to the United States in order to provide for his family back home. At the age of seven both my immigration papers and my sister's were finalized, and we were able to finally be with our father. Unfortunately, our mother was not able to come with us. When we got to the airport, I hugged my mother and said goodbye. My sister and I spent seven years without our mother. We had to educate ourselves on any and everything that a mother would teach her daughters. Those years were unyielding. Every day I yearned for my mother's touch. Haiti is one of the poorest countries, but to me Haitian people are one of the most hard-working groups that I know of. That is one of the reasons that I always work hard. I didn’t come from riches and I was not brought up with the mindset of waiting for someone to hand me the

I have struggled in the past, but I will not let struggle become my future. Becoming a Rattler will fortify my family's legacy because I will be a first-generation high school graduate and the first to attend college. I could sit and not try to change the cycle, but I know that education is the only way that I can push forward in life. I see how my father has to work every day and always take extra shifts in order to make ends meet. I see how my mother has to scrub toilets and clean houses in order for my siblings and I to have the things that we need. I want to choose a different path and be able to prove that though one may come from a struggling background, that struggle does not have to be your