Day 2 Immigrant. That word gives me a label here. I am crossing the border to the U.S because my parents think it will give us a new beginning and a better life. I think they’re wrong. Our life in El Salvador was fine: We had a nice house and we were healthy.
Many immigrants move to United States of America for better life. My name is Nahome Walle. I'm one of these immigrants who come across another country to seek a better life. I was born and grew up in Ethiopia. I never thought that I would be leaving my country and live away.
They were constantly scraping together enough money to pay for gas, to get me lunch money, to buy me a new pair of jeans and a few new shirts. My parents gave me just enough money so that I
“No pain no gain”, echoes in my mind, as the hot sweltering humid air engulfs my room, baking me in the unbearable heat early one morning, during the summer after my freshman year of college. The thought instantly brings me back to memories of my childhood, where whenever I complained, my dad would retort “no pain no gain”. Back then, I hated hearing it over and over again. To me it was just something my parents said to stop us from complaining, and I never stopped to think why that one phrase was so important to them.
Growing up in an immigrant household in America, was difficult. I didn’t live, I learned to adapt. I learned to adapt to the fact that I did not look like any of my peers, so I changed. Adapted to the fact that my hair texture would never be like any of my peers, so I changed. Adapted to the fact that I was not as financially well off as my peers, so I changed.
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.
Parents have an enormous influence on the way their child acts, thinks and is perceived by others, and if there is anyone who is doubtful of this- I am walking proof. The two people who raised me have molded me into the person that I am and will be. From a young age, children become aware of seemingly little things that stay with them whether they like it or not. In my case, I wondered about how my parents could not attend my concerts like all my friends’ parents could, or how they were not able to help me with my homework. I was always jealous of others who did not have these thoughts stuck in their head- just as the thought of a stalled task clings to the mind, only coming forth when it starts to be forgotten.
In 2009, the U.S. Census gathered that there were over thirty-three million second-generation immigrants living in America. America is a melting pot, and in this melting pot, it isn’t uncommon for these children, myself included, to lose sight of what our lives could be–and the struggles that our parents faced to ensure that we have more opportunities than they had. As I write this essay, I’m stressing over the things any other American high school sophomore faces– grades, social drama and statuses, and my follower count on Twitter and Instagram. These “problems,” if even that, are minute to what others our age face around the world.
On one brusque day, I was running from the cops knowing that I shouldn’t have held up 7/11 while on probation. Now i’m really gonna get locked up now. I don’t care i’ll miss my sophomore year or if the judge gives me grace again. I’ll end up with my dad in West Cali, and i’ll end up working at his retarded library. My mom and he were divorced when I was three.
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.
Coming from a low income family, living in a small town in India, I learned early on about struggling and surviving those struggles. I watched my parents working day and night to provide for electricity, pay for our monthly school fees so my sister and I can have a better education, and for the future they wished upon for their children. To further enhance this vision, my father decided for the family and I to immigrate to the US. Everything was different in the sense that I changed schools, learned a new language, had to make new friends, and learned the different culture. I had to adapt to a whole new world, which was a little difficult at 6 years old
First generation immigrants sacrifice their adulthood in search of a better life for their family and for future generations to come. My father came from Peru to support his family. He was the first person in his family to come to America. He works in road construction from morning until night so that my family is supported. The desire to repay both of my parents is the belief that guides my life.
As a teenager moving to a new country with a different culture, different language, and being thousands of miles away from everyone I grew up with was not an easy change, however, that was precisely what I did in January of 2013 when I came to the United States with my father. My whole world changed since, and shaped my way of thinking. From learning English, adjusting to a new culture, experiencing my first snow and finding my way in my new country, my life has been an exciting adventure. My parents brought me to America almost 5 years ago to have a better life, and to get a better education.
There was once a five year-old girl who didn’t know what the word “paint” was. She probably wasn’t the only little girl who knew that word, but for her it more than not knowing a simple word. It was the fact that she couldn’t tell her teacher that, that was what she wanted to do. Then she saw another girl beside her doing what she wanted to do, so she mimicked the other girl so that her teacher could know what she wanted. Just like that she was learning to survive in a strange new world, one in which they spoke a language she didn’t completely understand since she spoke a different language at home.
In my life l have lived with and learned from different people from around the globe. I was born to a Mexican father and an American mother. Since living with fifty different foreigners from multiple countries and following my father’s footsteps leading tours for foreign students; I have certainly been around my fair share of cultures and learned to appreciate different people. My father, had just flown into the United States from Mexico.
