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Personal Narrative about
Personal Narrative about
Personal Narrative about
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Personal Narrative about
Personal Narrative about
Personal Narrative about
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On March 16, 1999, Jose and Antonia Soto welcomed their baby girl, whom they named Jenny, into the world. She was the youngest of three; her brother Samuel was eleven years old when she was born and her sister Elizabeth was fourteen years old. Despite the significant age gaps between her and her siblings, Jenny was raised in a traditional Mexican household. She, like many Mexican children, had her face shoved into her birthday cake every year and had to greet every family member with a peck on the cheek at every family gathering. It wasn’t until elementary school when I realized that my childhood, my life, was nowhere near traditional.
When I first moved to this country I was two years old and clueless of my surroundings. However, as I grew up I became more observant of those who surrounded me, and more importantly, the differences between me and others. My first reaction was always to be ashamed or sad that I was the outcast, unable to relate to certain
I was five years old when my parents decided to move from Ghana to the United States. At a very young age, I knew that my dream was to one day live in America. But when we moved here, I quickly found out that the culture here was completely different from the culture I was used in Ghana. Adjusting to a new culture was hard for me. Trying to fit in anywhere was harder for me than it was for most people.
I did and still do to some degree have a problem with my identity. When I first moved to America the way I looked and acted around American people was perceived as strange, unacceptable and I was ridiculed. Where one comes from is what make him different or unique from other people. How I acted around people made people think about whether they wanted to befriend me. In this world, there are people who are helpful with anything that are needed and there are people who ignored or shunned me.
When I was three years old my mother decided it would be best for us to move to America so we could have better and safer lives. Before I started school, I was sheltered from American culture. I could barely speak English, I only knew hispanic songs, and I only ate “Mexican food.” By the time school started, I felt like an outsider, everyone was speaking in a foreign language and eating odd foods, I felt out of place. It wasn’t until third grade when I began to feel like I was part of my classmates.
When My mom decided to move to USA from Pakistan because my dad business was here. I was really sad I didn't want to leave my country because all my friends was there and I was also scared that I would not be able to adjust and adapt to American culture. When I first came here everything felt so different the food, the language, the way people dressed, etc. So when I started going to school here and it was my first day I felt like I did not belong here because I could not speak the language and I thought I would never be able to learn English.
Even though I have never been on an airplane, I consider myself an international traveler. I live in the U.S. but I also have Lebanese immigrant parents. When I was younger, I used travel back and forth across international borders to fulfill my daily routine in one city. But; I was never Arab enough to fit in with “Arab” natives, and being Arab means that I would never be considered “American” enough.
I am an American male. White my first name is American. And my last name is German my dad was a full blooded German. And my mom was a full blooded Irish. I was born in Cairo, ill back in April 6 the 1962.
I had the grand honor of being born into a culturally diverse family. Although Dominican culture dominates our customs, we are 25% Middle Eastern from Lebanon, and 25% Spanish from Barcelona, Spain. The cultures have all laced into each other in such a way that I find it utterly ordinary to eat Arabic food while listening to Dominican music while serving Spanish desserts. My parents came to America at around the age that I am now, met each other, and my mom had my first sister at 18 while my father was 22. My mom went back to high school to finish her GED while my father enrolled in an institution that he never got around to finishing because his english was not well.
I am a Filipino-American and have lived in america for most of my life. My parents had actually lived in the Philippines for their whole lives, but we eventually moved to America for “Job Opportunities” and for me to have better future. I lived in the Philippines up until I was about 3 to 4 years old, unaware as to why we were in a different place, but I did not think much of it due to my young age, just the fact that me and my mom were seeing my dad again. As I grew up I soon came to realize that this “new place” was officially our “home”. Due to the young age I was when I first arrived in America, I never really thought of my “Asian” identity or how others would react to it.
As a person goes through life he or she may wonder “Who am I?” and “What is my purpose?” The objective of this paper is to allow me to reflect and critically analyze who I am as a person. In this paper, I will discuss my social location and identity, my life experiences and my privileges and disadvantages.
Growing up I always considered myself American. I never saw my family as foreigners or ever heard them with accents. I felt as though I grew up like every other American kid and lived a normal American life. Never in my youth had I understood what those around me perceived as foreign. Never in my youth had I thought outsiders may look at me and my family as foreign.
At around the age of 4, I was the only one from my immediate family that was born here in the United states at the time. I have this clear memory of being in the car with my family, and my siblings were making fun of me because I am American, that I wasn 't Mexican like them. I felt embarrassed and wanted to be Mexican so bad like them. I never noticed race as a thing before, until my own siblings pointed it out. It just became more obvious to me over time.
From the time a child develops the ability to become potty trained, they shorty manifest the desire to mimic the individuals in their surroundings. The early years of a child’s life are extremely vital and will reflect their environment that molded them into who they are. There’s a saying that states, “It’s not where you come from but it’s where you are going,” but I disagree because you would not know where to go if you did not know where you came from. My childhood consisted of struggles, poor community, lack of communication, and the free financial programs provided by the government.
The bell rang as I frantically ran through the narrow school hallway. It was my first day at an American school and I was hopelessly lost. I was born and raised in the small town of Asmara, Eritrea. At 15 years old my family