My mother always warned me that crying is an admission of weakness. With her thick skin and hunched back she trudged and taught me coping mechanisms that she embraced as survival skills. At a young age, I learned to cry silently, to be skeptical, and to always look to the future for happiness. However, as I have grown older and experienced my own challenges I have learned to ignore the lessons of my mother; something that I consider to be a sign of socioeconomic progress for our small immigrant family. The catalysis was that throughout my college years, I had to deal with the prosecution of a family member who sexually abused me when I was a child. The severity of this taught me that in trying times, allowing myself to experience emotional
(Summer of 1879) As an African American wife who recently joined the western migration, along with my husband, I am optimistic about the opportunity we have to become landowners. Thanks to the new addition of the 13th amendment, my husband and I are considered lawful freedmen. We now have the right to live a lifestyle opposite of the suffering we endured back in the South.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Immigration a strong word that defines and that my family express there feelings to. At the age of 3 I was just a little girl running around the house in my dipper playing with my older brother. I do not clearly remember what happen even though I was present I had to ask my mom about it. Both of my parents migrated from Mexico to the United States when they where around 17-19 years old in 1990. My parents met in the United States a year after, my mom got pregnant by my dad and had my older brother by September 1992 and 2 years later I was born.
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.
Life as a Native American sucks. I realized this when I was a little kid. I’ve come to accept that what other people label or describes us as are true. I’m not happy to admit this they are right. My people don’t do anything to prove these people’s claims, or better known as stereotypes, about Native Americans wrong.
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.
I’m able to resonate with a plethora of things, yet the thing I consider my identity is I’m an adopted, Haitian immigrant. I was born in Haiti in 1998, in a small village in Thomazeau, I moved to Croix-des- Bouquets right after my birth and I lived there until I was 9 years old. My family's financial situation was adequate. My mom was always able to find a way to make ends meet. This cause our neighbor to be envious of us.
My most rewarding accomplishment consists of my ability to overcome the fear and weakness that was conceived upon my arrival to the United States from Mexico, in addition to a newly evolved character which allowed me to achieve academic, professional, and personal success. Nearly seven years ago, my mother and I immigrated from a harsh economic climate in Mexico that was plagued with unemployment. Additionally, our family faced bankruptcy. While holding onto our faith, we left our hometown with only what we could carry and bought two one-way bus tickets. With nothing more than fear, two bags, and $50 in each of our pockets, we set out for what would be the most challenging journey of our lives.
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.
Sometimes life brings you something that you can’t even imagine, you wouldn’t know how to deal with or face it by yourself, your emotions will be all over the place and you have to fix it by yourself. In the past, in China, the Boxer Rebellion happened. It happened because people were feeling frustrated as their culture was changing a lot. This made them really sad. The rebellion caused a lot of problems and surprised people all around the world.
For me being sad and in grief were my feelings not anyone else I kept them within me and showed something different of what I feel. It's now I realized how incongruent I have been to
For example, I was diagnosed with a lung condition about 6 years ago, and I will admit it took a heavy toll on me emotionally, but I realized it is just another obstacle in life. The view I once had on life made me feel self-pity for having my condition. I realized that positivity was the only way to get better; When I was sick I would be absent constantly, and these absences made me feel isolated and alone from everyone else. I felt different, I felt simply alone, and I felt no one would be able to help me. This feeling of helplessness coupled with the feeling of being different made me question the fairness of life.