Kristal: My Immigrant Father

Humanity is ever so much more complicated than one could have ever imagined. Humans can thrive on change, but ultimately look for something to declare as home. In search of this home people travel long distances and risk everything they have. When an American contemplates the word immigrant, one imagines the countless people from Mexico crossing into our country or the refugees that hope to make this country their home. What eludes most of us, however, is the reality that most people were, at one point, immigrants to this country and that our forefathers came here exactly the same as refugees come today. What is brought to mind when I hear the word immigrant is hope and perseverance. I remember the countless people who have traveled here

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.

Case Study #4 – Working with an Immigration Family Case #4 introduces us to Esmerelda; a 15 year-old teenager, born in the United States (U.S.) to El Salvadorian parents who fled to the U.S. in the 1990s. The intent was to secure a “better life” (Lee & Gonzalez, 2015, p. 164) that would counter the detrimental living conditions and the possibility of starvation they were facing in their native country. Unfortunately, Esmerelda’s family is poor, resides a “rural southern town” as a family of six. Her parents work extremely long shifts at a “poultry plant” to keep a roof over the family’s heads, food on the table and provide as much of their needs as possible. Due to the lengthy work hours, Esmerelda is forced to stand in as the ‘acting parent’ with effort to look after her siblings in her parent’s absence.

My parents come from a small town in Michoacán, Mexico. Growing up, my first language was Spanish. There were situations where I would be embarrassed of my parents for not knowing how to speak English. People would give mean looks and give off a rude tone because of the fact they couldn't speak English. I was a shy person, so I didn't know how to defend my parents but those experiences shaped me into the person who is not embarrassed about having Mexican parents and helps them around with their English. I am a proud and lucky to be the daughter of Mexican parents. Aside from that, I had been an only child till I was eight years old. The day my sister was born, I knew she will be my best friend forever. She is now ten years old and looks up

The specific topics I will be talking about is the unfairness of life of an Immigrant family in the United stated of America. While also providing my own life and struggles of income for the family and first generation children, in this case me. Also the struggle of simultstaly going to college and working will be thoroughly discussed. As a result, so will the health effects of both those tools and how they go hand to hand.

There were three lessons that my immigrant parents ingrained in their first-generation children: Work hard, never give up, and most importantly, give back. Among other life lessons they taught us, these three were the basis for everything. It would be the basis that would and will define me as a person.

The reason immigrant children have such far-reaching success is in large part due to our awareness. There is not a day that passes that I don’t see the effects of cultural poverty and lack of women’s education. My passion for success stems from my 1st generation immigrant upbringing.

I was born on january/31/1919 in Vietnam and immigrated to France. In 1942 I was studying at the university in Nice, where I met a fellow student, Jadwiga Alfabet, a Jewish refugee from Poland. In the summer of 1942 the French police began arresting Jews with foreign nationality. In September 1943 the Germans occupied Nice and all the Italian controlled zones and we were in danger of deportation. I decided to hide not only my wife, but also her relatives. In November 1943 I took a train with a few of my wife's relatives to get them in touch with a smuggler who could take them to Switzerland, I made this trip several

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

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.

As the daughter of an immigrant, I have witnessed the various barriers faced by immigrants, and this experience has motivated me toward my career objective. According to the Pew Research Center Hispanic Trends Project, there were about 11.3 million immigrants living illegally in the United States in 2013 (Passel et al., 2014). These immigrants come from all parts of the world for several different reasons. Whether to provide better resources for their family back home or to live a better life, these immigrants usually work in environments that can be harmful and dangerous to their health.

“The worst loneliness is to not be comfortable with yourself.” (-Mark Twain) Being a child of immigrant parents who move to American can be hard. There is a lingering feeling of not feeling like a child belongs. They are stuck in the invisible world between where their parents came from, in this specific case, Asia and where the child lives now. It can be difficult to be raised as an Asian American and learning both culture and traditions. Many Asian American kids end up deviating from the Asian culture and embracing the American culture. However, children of immigrants should embrace their own culture in order to keep traditions alive and be proud of who they are.

It is challenging being the oldest child in every family. What is even harder, is being the first child of immigrant parents. From the obstacles I faced, I was able to become independent. My parents left El Salvador to go to America for a better life. When they left their country my mother was pregnant with her first child which was me. After I was born and I began to grow, the only language I spoke and heard was Spanish. Since both my parent spoke little English and spoke mostly Spanish I thought it was only natural for me to follow them.

Marisela Martinez Short, my Mother, is an emigrant from Guadalajara Mexico. Marisela was born on May 27th 1976, currently she is thirty nine years old. She immigrated to America when she was sixteen years old in 1992. I chose to interview Marisela because I find her story and the way her life changed dramatically very interesting.

I will introduce the before me first. I was born in California in a Commune called “The Fountain of the World for almost 17 years. It would have been 17 years, but, My parents moved away when I was a month old, but my mother split up from my father when I was 2, and so we landed back in the Commune. Therefore I actually only lived there for 15 ½ years. Although, In this 17-year span I learned to be a victim, always blaming my circumstances for everything, holding on to shame and trying to hide from it all. I was born Karan Finney, but then by the second grade, my mother remarried, and I became Karan Arvisais.