Personal Narrative: Moving To America

Moving to America, was a difficult transition for me. I had come to the realization that I wasn’t going to see my friends any time soon back in Iran and that was hard to overcome at a young age. I was alone as a child because my siblings are a lot older than me, and my parents’ had the challenge of starting over because they had left everything behind in Iran. However, that wasn’t going to get in the way of me succeeding in school. I have always been a fast learner, by the age of eight I had already learned four languages. Also, I was voted most improved by my classmate every year I was in Elementary School. This might not seem like a big achievement, but as a young student in a new country it was a huge motivation boost for me to improve every

The plane took off and were in the air leaving the place I had only ever known. I remember when my parents told me and my two brothers that we would be moving to the United states. At the time I didn’t know where we would end up or how we were even getting there. All I knew was I would be in a totally different landscape with a lot of ethnically different people whom I have never met or seen before.

Since the moment my oldest brothers moved to the United States my family knew we could not be apart from each other. Four years past, enough time to finally go start a new life with my brothers in the U.S. In between those four years I was born, my sisters would always talk about my unknown brother to me. Then they told me we were going to move. I was barely two years when we came to the U.S. It was February 25, 2004 when we said goodbye to my grandparents, mom and dads family. It was a long ride from Mexico City to Nogales, when we arrived in Nogales my brothers friend, Alejandro was waiting for us in a minivan. Alejandro told us that the toughest part was coming. He said we had to split up, my sisters and dad was going to walk through the

Coming to the United States was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was born in Dagahaley, Kenya where I lived for fourteen years. My family and I had to go through a lot to get to the United States. Most people wanted to come to the United States because life is better here then it is there. You have to be lucky to get picked and we were fortunate to be able to move to the United States. After you get picked you have to go through multiple tests over the course of about eight to nine months. If you pass the test you get to go, but if you do not than you had to stay back in Africa and would not have another chance. When I first heard we were going to America I was so excited and everything, but then it hit me and thought about it what

My family and I in 2008 moved from Trinidad and Tobago to America. We were all so excited to move to a new country. We heard about all the fun experiences and great opportunities that America had to offer. I must admit that I had mixed emotions about moving to a new country. On one hand, I was exactly happy because I was going to have an opportunity to go college and presume my dream of being a childhood teacher or child psychologist. On the other hand, I was sad because I was leaving all my Tobago friends and family

The most difficult time of my life was when I had to leave my country after  having spent fourteen years living in India. As a kid growing up in India, the most significant event in my life was my grandparents deciding I would move to America right before I would start high school. Sadness fell on my face when my parents told me, as I never imagined going to America and leaving all of my friends. There are decisions that can unexpectedly change your life. Mine was coming to a new country and adapting to a foreign environment. After learning how to get through the last four years, I already have experienced a major life change, almost how it will be in college, being separated from friends and having to make new ones.

“Something that I never had in life, something that you have but are taking for granted, I won't stand for it.” Game controller in hand, I gulped hard, with sweat rolling down my head. My eyes pointed directly downward, not daring to look up as my mother gave “the talk.” My mother’s words echo in my head. Having lost her father during high school, she was denied her right to higher education. She married at a young age, moved to America, and gave birth to me. The first born, the carrier of the American Dream. We were what one would expect from an immigrant Indian family; working hard, valuing education, and hoping for a better tomorrow. As my parents worked hard to sustain our family, I strived to excel in school, motivated by their hardship.

It’s been a little over a month since I got to America from Mexico. I live in New York City now. It’s nothing as I expected it to be people in the city are very rude, one day I was walking to work which is a clothing factory a teenage boy, who looked very wealthy told me, “go back where you come from” and “you don’t belong here.” That’s when I met the nicest woman I have ever met, her name’s Jane. She saw everything that happened, she knew I was scared of the boy and that’s when she gave me this flyer. She told me to come to her organization meeting at this church where she would help me adjust to New York. Surprisingly, the meeting was during a time I didn’t work and I heard a couple of the girls that I work with chatting about it. So, I

Growing up as a military brat wasn't easy, there were many places we had to go to and we didn't have a choice. One of those places was here ,Illinois, and I was ten when we made the move here.This move was probably the hardest thing I have ever physically gone through considering all of my mom and I's stuff was lost in the ocean because the place we moved from was Hawaii.So, when we got here me and mom both didn't have our stuff but the rest of my family did.To make matters worse my dad was being shipped out to South Korea and we didn't have a house. For a whole year we were homeless,we put what was left of our stuff into storage and moved in with grandma. As terrible as that year was, it taught me a lot about what some people actually live

I have to say, that my life now, is fairly cushy. I don’t have to worry about to many things: I own my own car, I pay my rent on time, I have a decent job. A lot of what I have now, I owe to my grandparents. They chose to immigrate into the United States from Mexico so that my Mom would have a chance at a good life.

That day at the airport, I thought about a lot of things while we wait for the plane to take off. Moving to the United States with my sister was a huge turning point for me on so many levels. It meant that I will need to learn a new language and adapt to a new culture. It meant that I will leave my aunt and uncle who have raised me for the past eleven years. It meant that I will live with my mom and see my dad and stepdad for the very first time. My emotion was mixed with excitement, fear, and hesitation.

Many people who move to American, immigrate because it’s their last option. Some people flee to escape war, or poverty. My dad’s situation on the other hand, was more of a mental decision. I interviewed my father, Mariusz Kukielko for this project because I admire his intentions and courage he had when he was forced to make this big decision. I have always know he was an immigrant, because I was myself about three years old when we moved, but I was too young to recall anything. The interview took place in my living room.

When you hear me speak, you’d never guess that I’ve lived anywhere accept the United States. However, my current accent wasn’t always the case. My older sister and I have had the privilege of moving every couple years since we were born due to my mother’s job. Her job has taken us to countries far as England, Finland and France but also as close as California, Nevada, Maryland and finally and most loved, Kentucky. On August 8th, 2000, I was born to Susan and Bill Macke in Wellington Florida. By my first birthday, we were in the process of moving to Birmingham, England. And that’s where my global adventure began. My childhood was that of a European instead of an American child. We were fortunate enough to be able to take the train to Rome or

Sometimes I can still smell the multiplicity of aromas that inhabited the first nine years of my life the erotic spices, the faint smell of motor oil. I can hear the sounds of the crowded streets of Mumbai the sounds of music and horns honking. My family and I are from Mumbai, India where my mother and father owned several small cell phone stores, and repair shops. A few of my earliest memories were going there as a child to help my father with the different task, and cleaning around our shops.

Last years, I was in Iraq, in Baghdad, in my house with my mom and sister. It was a beautiful weather, when the phone rang and my mom answered, immediately the smile became on her face when she heard we would travel to another country. After the phone closed, she came to us and said,¨we will finally travel to United States,let us go to prepare the backpacks, we do not have more time to waste¨these news were amazing, but I became sad that we left my cousin, my friend in Iraq. Next, we prepare to go to the pline, we moved in pline to Ardon, then to Germany, and then to United States. It was a fun trip in airport and also a tired one. Then,