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My first trip to america narrative essay
My Trip To America Personal Narrative
My Trip To America Personal Narrative
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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.
Being Hispanic makes me feel proud. It is something that makes me what I am, remembering my Mexican roots reminds me as my ancestors fought to get what they intended. Being Hispanic is not easy for all the prejudices that has this society. We havebeing judget as thieves, rapists, and much more. As in all societies there are people who make mistakes during his life and choose wrong paths but that is no reason to generalize to all those who belong to that social group.
This autobiographical essay will define my experience as a Dominican immigrant living in New York City. Being an American citizen with a Dominican background are extremely relevant to the process of political socialization. My family background is founded on the principles of democratic values, which taught to me by my mother and father. In New York City, I found a “melting pot” of different immigrants that allowed me to feel more accepted as a Dominican living in the United States. More so, these aspects of the socialization process provided a foundation for my belief in democratic values throughout my life.
In my situation, I am fluent in Spanish and have taken great pride in my parent’s history, but I could never truly be considered Mexican, for my tongue lacked practice in comparison and my education of the culture fell short. In turn, the level of melatonin my body would release with the combination of the native blood that coursed through my veins retained me from being considered fully American despite being born in the United States. So, if I did not belong to either tribe, then who was I to say that I had a sense of community; moreover, a sense of identity. It wasn’t until my freshmen year of high school that I began to realize that I had been living in a territory where my brethren faced the same
As a member of a working class community, my life has been a struggle between resources and opportunities available for me. Having sparse resources has lead me to the constant push of working towards the things I’ve achieved. Social identities have become a guidance for my future goals and abilities. Being working class Latina, raised in a Catholic family has created many barriers and pathways into the future I wish to hold. Furthermore, taking all the social identities I have grew into have become the bases for my educational goals and identity.
From as early as I could remember I noticed I was not like the others kids. I had an interest for things most kids would not be interested in. I liked interacting with people, knowing about people and their life stories; I wanted to help in anyway that I could when I would hear everyone’s problems. I thought outside the box throughout my whole childhood and I wanted to make the most out of my knowledge. I told myself that I was going to dedicate my life to helping my community.
I am very proud of my Hispanic heritage. Even though, I am an United States citizen, I am always going to belong to my Hispanic backgrounds. There are so many reasons that I am proud to be Guatemalan and American that I could write a whole book about it. However, I regularly participate in my Hispanic culture and community through my family, traditions, and by being bilingual.
I come from an authentic Hispanic family, who is traditional in plenty distinct aspects. We treasure all the memories that have occurred to all of us and we laugh about the embarrassing moments we all had. We hold traditional customs and we accept new traditions as well. All of us are over protective of each and every family member, meaning that if anyone in the family has a problem we will not stop until it is fixed. To every family member, family is always first.
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.
Growing up as a first-generation Mexican American was a huge advantage for me in that it allowed me to grow up in a culturally diverse community. I learned how to work well with people of all backgrounds and empathize with people from all walks of life. However, while being the first in my family to go to college was a momentous accomplishment, the lack of instruction and guidance lead me to commit many mistakes that could have been easily avoided during my first years at college. My timidity and downright arrogance lead me to believe that I did not need anyone’s assistance and thus I found myself denial that there was a problem in terms of my grades during my first semesters. I have since addressed this issue and have worked diligently to
I believe the term, hispanic, itself does not define who I am. I define who I am and who I want to become. However, I do come from a Mexican heritage. Coming from a Mexican heritage has influenced and deeply impacted my life. My heritage has taught me a lot.
It was not until recently here at TC in this class that I thought about my African heritage, growing up my family identified with only two heritages Ecuadorian and Puerto Rican. One of the big roadblocks I have had when talking about our African background with my family is the discrepancy between how society sees me and my family sees me: society sees me as Black yet my family sees me as Puerto Rican only. It seems that my family is only comfortable recognizing our complex racial composition until you get to Africa then we go no further. Some of the elders in my family have even had hostility in their voice when I have tried to talk about this subject, “We’re Puerto Rican, not some ugly Nego!” or “I’m no dirty Black!”
I grew up in a two-parent household with my parents being married before they had children. My father has always been the one that provides finically, while my mother was the one who took care of my siblings and I throughout my childhood. Being that both of my parents were born in Mexico, I consider myself Mexican American. I am proud to be Mexican American. Culture plays a huge role in shaping your identity.
I’m the first generation of my family to be Mexican -American, but I have been introduced to the Mexican culture since I was born. I appreciate the difficulties my parents have faced to make me the person that I am today even though I wasn’t born in Mexico my parents have taught me the language and the culture which I’m so proud of being part of. For others being Hispanic is actually being born in any Latin American countries which is not true at all. Being Hispanic is much more than my cultural background it actually describes how much I appreciate my culture and how I get to experience things other people don’t. I fit into the Hispanic community through the experiencing the culture first hand ,participating in traditions and planning to include my culture in my future.
I identify as a Latina. I have always considered myself as a Latina, but throughout time, I believe that I have assimilated more into a white individual because of the privilege that I hold and because I have lived in the US most of my life. I have received mostly negative messages from those who are not from my ethnicity. My peers and I were told we wouldn’t graduate high school and be laborers for the rest of our lives. With the current politics, I believe that this still holds true where some people still hold stereotypes and give oppressing messages to Latinos.
