Personal Narrative: I Can T Be President

My AP government class seemingly encapsulated critical shifts of voter behavior into a single lecture, but I craved to see democracy in action. Working on Raja Krishnamoorthi’s Congressional campaign before my junior year, I was able to translate what I had read in books into practice. Scrolling through endless lists of voter files, I was able to picture how different neighborhoods in Illinois’s 6th District voted distinctly each election. I found myself engaging on issues that may have occupied half a page in Patterson’s The American Democracy, but hit to the heart of voters, from a grandmother dependant on Social Security to a steelworker that was laid off.

My presidential run for office would be based off being truthful. I would tell the United States how the government has been taking money from them and spending it irresponsibly. I want to fix the United States because they fail to use money effectually. There needs to be someone that steps in and fixes the problem. When the people of the U.S. votes me into office that will be my task.

I have privileges unfathomable to family back in Mexico, and my mother warned me against taking these privilege for granted. Being born in America did not make me American, she told me, being First Generation American would present seemingly unbearable challenges. She offered advice that I followed to the letter until our first name was not the only thing we shared, until the voice inside my head was replaced with my mother’s.

With everything going on in the news and the new administration, I have been feeling the urge to do something. I happened to come across an online site where it talked about taking action. So, I decided to organize a Stockton Huddle, which is a 90-minute gathering for people of all walks of life to sit and calmly discuss their concerns about the new administration and its policies. Huddles are the second of 10-planned actions in the First 100 days of this presidency, which launched at the Women’s March in Washington D.C.

The very first conversation I had with the one closest to me was an argument. I will never forget it. We were talking about our goals and ambitions in life. When I told him what I wanted to do, I just got the average “Good for you! That’s so great!” response. When he told me that after graduation he was shipping out to Army basic training to become an Airborne Combat Engineer, I didn't give the same response back.

I am from the United States of America, where the power originates from the people

In this life everyone in the world has opportunities, especially people from United States. In this country everyone is able to find financial help, either from the government or organizations, for education (Scholarships, FAFSA), and for health (Obama care, financial assistance). Sadly, some people are lazy or they just can’t get the help.

“Do you like your job mom?” My son Matthew asks me casually looking up at me from his wooden desk chair. I’m working on cooking our family dinner and he’s currently working on a 10th grade essay, where he describes what he wants to become when he grows up. I always have thought that term “growing up” was funny, because through everything I certainly never have. I smiled down at him and answered “Yes, Matthew, I love it very much.” “Can I interview you about it please, it’s part of the assignment?” he replied. I nod and make my way over to the matching desk chair and sit down. “Just answer my questions about your job” He said. “Wait Matt, don’t you have to write this down?” “UGH mom this isn’t 2016, no one writes anymore. Gosh. My IPhone 17

During the study at Brooklyn College it became apparent that the ambiguity of what a “real” American is and who qualifies as one reinforces racial inequality while also challenging it (Bush, 2011). As students were interviewed the meaning of being American shifted between something tangible (citizenship), something unambiguous (given at birth), something ambiguous (a belief system), and something continuously shifting. Many students believed being an American meant being born in the United States to nonimmigrant parents. For example, one student interviewed stated “I consider myself to be American. I was born in America; my parents were born in America. I think my grandparents were born in America,” while another student claimed “Being an American

Asyndeton - “When I woke later on, I opened the lunch bag Mama has packed for me and inside. Tucked between the knishes and matzo balls and chopped liver, was her polish passport, with her picture inside.” (Pg 215) This is an example of asyndeton because the author doesn’t use conjunction in a long sentence that contains commas, but instead just continues to elaborate.

That’s basically all I could understand as I left the immigration center. People all around me were talking in languages I had only studied in textbooks, which barely helped. That was the first time I could really look around and see where I was. The sound of car engines roared in my ears as I walked across the street; people squashed into a small bus while chattering in a garbled language that made no sense. Everywhere I looked I saw chaos, and I couldn’t have been happier.

I stood in a small high school auditorium, a United States flag in hand, next to my parents. We were taking the Oath of Allegiance at our naturalization ceremony. I remember admiring the joy and excitement beaming off my parent’s faces because I knew after this moment they would finally feel American. I, on the other hand, found it difficult to embrace the same feeling. Instead, I thought of the years my family and I slept on inflatable mattresses, the adolescence I never had because I was my sister’s full-time babysitter and my parent’s accountant, and the excruciating pressure I had to cook dinner and pay bills by the age of 13. Growing up, citizenship was a concept that if attainable, meant I too would feel American. Yet here I was, finally

Ever since I was little, i have had the career aspirations of any other child. From ballerina to firefighter, fashion designer to chef. At one point I wanted to be a veterinarian, but when I came to the realization that I don't particularly like animals that dream slowly faded and died. When I looked back upon my previous dreams I realized one common theme, Helping people. It was from then on that I knew who I wanted to be.

World War II was an exceptional war for the United States. The United States emerged from the war as a world superpower and protector of all other nations. There were many reasons why the United States entered World War II, however President Franklin Roosevelt was in some way directly connected to every reason. Roosevelt wanted to enter World War II as soon as it started for political and economic needs. However, the American people did not want to enter in another war, such as World War I, that costs so many lives and money. Therefore, Roosevelt schemed a plan to enter the United States into World War II that would change the minds of the American people,

Everyday I am on a constant race to discover who I am as an individual. I am fighting this battle whether I choose to acknowledge it or not. Donald Hernandez has written in his book Children of Immigrants: Health, Adjustment, and Public Assistance; he talks about major key points, but the most important one state “Third, because life chances differ greatly according to race and ethnicity in the United States, and because of the race and ethnic composition of immigrants to this country has shifted markedly during recent decades,” (3). That is true trying to be one thing is very hard in USA society has an effect of how you may become as the individual. If I were in another country they would just see as an American and nothing else, but the place that I was born and raised they see me as what my parents are Nigerians. I am not American because my parents are from Nigeria; this has been a very constant thing, because of several definitions of what it