A Personal Narrative Of An Immigrant

As a part of an immigrant family, there is no doubt that, as the oldest, I had to help my parents with English translation. Even though I have been in this role for years, it was not until recently that I realized the significance of my responsibilities.

I interviewed a beautiful and courageous woman, of African descent. Born and raised in Monrovia, Liberia on May 20, 1969. In addition, she has one biological brother and three step siblings. Currently she resides in Loganville, Georgia, where she lives with her two children. By the same token, she and her husband been married for twenty-one years to her loving high school sweetheart husband. Due to unfortunate circumstances, she lost her husband in the line of duty. Causing her to become a widow, continuing to survive life without her husband. When I conducted this interview, had one topic in mind that I wanted to learn more about her life as an immigrant and how did influence her life.

On 06/20/17, at 3:08pm, I Deputy Warden N. Christian was dispatched to 2645 Travis Road on a dog being held, no known owner. I arrived at the location and met with complainant. Complainant is a leasing agent for the above listed property. Complainant had the dog in the back of an abandoned apartment (fence in patio). The complainant took me to the location the dog was being held, I impounded the dog and placed a white terrier mix in my vehicle. The terrier had no identifying tags to indicate ownership. I transported the dog to Franklin County Animal Shelter (FCACC). Dog owner John Allen Jr redeemed the dog on 06/21/17. Mr. Allen did not show proof of dog license or vaccinate for his dog name Mabelline. I issued Mr. Allen violations

I was always a precocious child, yet argumentative and rebellious. I did not want to accomplish anything following a pattern set for me. I wanted to forge my own way. This determination set me at odds with my mother, and has defined our relationship all these years. It has surely led me down my own irregular path in life, and placed me in position to be the family’s black sheep.

Percival rarely drank, maybe a sip of wine during holiday gatherings, but today, several stiff shots of tequila were in order.

Growing up as an immigrant I view the world in a much more different light than most people do. Whenever an opportunity presents itself to me I am willing to put in the effort if I know it will better my life. This trait of resourcefulness originates from my family who, over the years have created a life for themselves out of virtually nothing. I moved to America at the young age of two years old with my father. Though he didn’t have much to begin with, my father decided to move to this country in hopes to lead a better life and follow on the path of the American dream. I vividly recall being in the backseat of our car while my father trained me on the importance of remaining perceptive and hardworking in school and abroad, I remember he would

At the age of fifteen, I could barely speak an English word. As I sat on the plane with a blank head flying across from Vietnam to the United States, I knew completely nothing what’s going to happen in my life. After almost twenty-four hours sitting on an intolerable chair, I arrived, as I looked above my head “Welcome to the United States”. And yes, welcome to my story, and undoubtedly my experience is the author.

It is not uncommon to hear one recount their latest family reunion or trip with their cousins, but being a first generation immigrant, I sacrificed the luxury of taking my relatives for granted for the security of building a life in America. My parents, my brother, and I are the only ones in my family who live in the United States, thus a trip to India to visit my extended family after 4 years was an exciting yet overwhelming experience. Throughout the trip, I felt like a stranger in the country where I was born as so many things were unfamiliar, but there were a few places that reminded me of my childhood.

Just like many immigrant families, my family had to encounter many adversities in the United States. My mother had to live the harsh experience of walking long hours and starve as she battled to cross the border of Mexico and the United States. Nothing, not even the fact that she was 5 months pregnant was going to stop her because her dream of giving me a better life was stronger than any hardship. My father was a legal resident of the United States but during this period of time it was very hard for an immigrant person to aspire for a good job. He was destined to work in the fields for many years. I grew up and went to elementary school and since my father was working out in the fields I was signed up to the Migrant Program. As a small elementary

I am Martin Gutierrez a retire veteran that was with United States Marine Corps who recently got done doing 10years. I got out from the military on March 10, 2017. I am not going to tell you my whole life story about me because this is not about my life but about me trying to buy a residential apartment in Chicago area around Humboldt park. I have a friend his name is Pedro. He is in charge of the apartment building and want to sell it for $500,000 to me but I don't have great credit score due I have paid off car loan which I had for almost 3 years and decide to pay it off completely to be able to relief some of my debt ratio so I can be able to afford purchase a house at the time. When I have paid off my car note my credit score drop from

It had been 8 weeks on the vessel when we had been informed that we would be nearing the New York harbor soon, that meant eight weeks without any pyzy or kopytka, my favorite foods. The vessel was fairly clean and was filled with people such as myself and my brother, Jacek, escaping the grasp of Nazi Germany in Poland or the equivalent of so in their countries. On the other hand, some are here seeking greater economic opportunity and religious freedom. My brother and I were the only ones out of my family brave enough to leave our lives behind and venture into America. It wasn’t easy for me to leave everything behind and start anew, I had many friends, family, and prized possessions that I left, not knowing if I would ever see them again. I

Although I was born a U.S. citizen my parents saw it right to know my culture. As soon as I was old enough to travel I was swept to Mexico with my missionary and bilingual family. Even though spanish was my first language when I got back to the states I learned english in a couple of months. My parents became pastors soon after in a church that only spoke spanish and was bathed in the Mexican culture. We had men who sang christian “cumbias” on top of a horse and we made tamales as a church fundraisers.

My dad teaching me how to drive is a dream. Seeing him come home every night from work is a dream. His attendance at my graduation later this year is a dream.

I have never been fond of the question, “Where are you from?” It often led me into a paradox of confusing answers that nearly always led to more questions. However, I have always been fond of the reason why I avoid answering that question. Through the years, I never truly grew my “roots” in a place, but it did not disadvantage me. Instead, I believe it enabled me to become a person who appreciates and understands the significance of diversity.

A small old woman was flying back to California accompanied by her granddaughter. They walked to the security checkpoint and proceeded to put their things onto the conveyer belt. Container, laptop. Container, shoes, coat, backpack. Walk forward. Stand with your hands up. All clear. Now scramble to get everything back on.