Personal Narrative: Heart Of Laredo

Life is based on a foundation of decisions and circumstances compiled on a precarious perspective of the user.The structure often relies on small and often overlooked elements. They receive no recognition, yet are the very reason for its prosperity. Trade towns and old docks are the lifeblood of the world, but best suited away from the public eye. Meant for the undesirables to deal with. People like me, who wished to build a future. While boomtowns are not meant for the upper class, they are a realm of opportunity for the destitute. My father, a refugee of war, found such opportunity in the heart of Laredo. A border town, located on the north bank of the Rio Grande in South Texas. Now while it may not seem like much, Laredo plays a vital role in international trade with Mexico. Most major transportation companies have a facility in Laredo. The city's location on the southern end of I-35 close to the manufacturers in northern Mexico promotes its vital role in trade between the two nations.

Through sweat and tears he carved out a slice of Laredo we could call home. My father was Iranian, a rare commodity in a town with over 95% of a Hispanic population. From the beginning, I was something of an outcast. Tabrizy didn’t have the same ring as Castillo or Lopez. Notwithstanding, I found a home with a small group of friends within the neighborhood as was common in these areas. Consequently, everyone knew everyone. Especially my dad, teachers always asked me. “Is Dean your dad?” It was something of a guilty pleasure, I loved the fact that everyone knew my dad. It made me feel