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Personal Narrative: My Move To America

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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. When I came to America, I had to go through much struggle. First and the most important was that I did not know how to speak English. Apart from this I was very shy, so I didn’t communicate with people frequently. Growing up in America and being a son of two Indian parents, I never felt truly American or Indian. I spoke Punjabi at home, but was educated in English so I had difficulty managing two languages. I spoke Punjabi fluently but was unable to write it. Vice versa, I could write in English, but was hesitant to speak it. I felt like an outsider, not fully embraced by either culture …show more content…

I have always, like my dad, wanted to major in something in the medical field. Another reason why I want to become a nurse practitioner is that I have always had a passion about helping others. With this job I can communicate with the patients in their times of intense physical and mental sufferings. For example, If my patients are scared of getting a surgery, I could educate them that surgery is not always a bad choice. I would explain the procedure of the operation in a way that they could fully comprehend. In doing this, I can ease of their fear. It is immensely important to be able to translate the potentially frightening experience of surgery into the vastly beneficial procedure it is. Therefore, I think that pursuing such a career will provide me the opportunity to help patients fight their

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I heard my mom talking to my dad. He tells her, “voy a ir para el norte(US) con un coyote(a person who brings people to the US illegally) que cobra barato,” I see her hugging him really tight. My dad comes to my sister and I and tells us that he will be back later, to not worry because he’s just going to see how “el norte” is, then might take us there later. My sister, my mom, and I understood why he wanted to go to The United States, he wants a better life for us.

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Our family’s ability to adjust was going to be put to test. We faced the biggest challenge in our lives when we moved to the USA. It was very hard to leave our childhood life in Mexico, those years were priceless. We still carried in our minds those special memories of child naughtiness. We did not have toys to play with; instead we had animals to feed and to take care, those chickens, ducks, caws, sheep were very demanding.

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I have already told you the story of when my grandmother passed away, but I haven’t told you about her decision to live in this country. My mother at the time was very young, only one and a half, when my grandmother decided come to journey across the border into America. My grandfather had a working visa, and used it to go to America for months at a time, leaving his family of eleven behind. His jobs mostly consisted of picking cotton, and picking many different fruits and vegetables. Although it was very hard work for my grandfather, it was a lot more money than working anywhere in mexico.

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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.

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Being a U.S. Citizen, I have taken the luxuries of life here for granted. Clean water, food, shelter, and free education are a few of the advantages I obtained. It has been a pleasure to have these opportunities, and I did not realize that there are people in this world who do not obtain these essential necessities in life. After I complete my education, I not only intend to give back to my local community, but I also want to serve those dying from poverty in my home country.

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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.

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I want every material thing in the world. I want new games, new clothes, a new phone, and a new car, and a whole bunch of additional things. Most of the time my parents are able to get me everything I demand, but I just want more and more. I'm not satisfied with what I already have; I basically just take everything for granted, and I realized this after I took one trip and experienced one bizarre event. At first before my trip, I was constantly begging for items with costly logos.

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On Thursday October 1, 1998 in a small village called Bhunerheri, located in Punjab India, I was born. Sadly, I had to leave India because my parent brought me to America when I was only two years old. They had planned to bring me to America when I was still in the womb. My own dad wasn’t even in India when I was born, he was here in America. We came to live in Lodi, California , where I went to school and got a good education and made many new friends.

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“Mis hijas, hoy fue su ultimo dia de escuela. Esta noche nos tomaremos un avión hacia Los Estados Unidos.” boasted my mom as she heatedly threw some of our best clothes into a suitcase. It was a day like any other until I arrived home from school and my mom welcomed my sisters and I with the news that we were going to take a flight to the United States of America in a few hours. Even as I write about it, I once again feel the chills that raced through my body that day.

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“You did it wrong, you aren't even trying, you're going to have to restart.” my mom said to me as I was redoing my math for the third time that day. “If you don't get the basics down tonight, you’ll have to do this tomorrow also.” My mom went to America because of the American dream and more opportunity She arrived in America at Oregon during 1991 after leaving Vietnam.

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