Reflective Essay: Moving To The Golden State Of California

After finishing school in 1982 I moved to San Francisco. I was in my early twenties and I was drawn to the charm of the city and

Personally, I live in a state that has little wilderness, mountaintown's, forest, etc., therefore, it has been a lifelong dream of mine to have the availability to not only visit the three states that I have chosen but to also take my children to experience this with me. Due to having family who lives in Wyoming and Montana luckily they are so kind to share photos of both states with my children and me. However, I do not have family living in New Mexico, although I was lucky enough in high school to have a friend move from New Mexico and allowed me to see many pictures, nonetheless, this has been a dream of mine to someday make it to New Mexico.

I didn't always live in California. Before California I lived in Denver, Colorado. Before Denver I lived in Aurora, Colorado. When we moved to california we had a family of five. We moved to California, when I was six, Then we lived at my grandma’s house in Riverside for a year. We found a place on Ferree Street and that became our home.

There are unfurnished one bedroom apartments in Kenmore, NY located at 16-42 Chapel Road. I was going to move there, but decided not to since I do not have furniture, and I did not want to sign a lease. The apartments are located in a safe neighborhood. The contact phone number is (716) 949-3264. The rent is $650.00 for 650 square feet which includes water, stove, and a refrigerator. The tenant pays for the utilities. The average rent for a one bedroom apartment in the Buffalo area is $870.00.

When George came home from work he told me that he had some really good news. Now, I don't know if I would call it good news, but he said that our family needs to move to Oregon. At first I was in such shock because Iowa is such a good place for our family, but a change is always good. The government is giving all males over the age of sixteen 640 acres of free farmland. That is more land then we have right now, and the land won’t be as crowded as the land here in Iowa.

In 1978, when I was 14, my family moved from Phoenix, AZ to Cerritos, CA; a small city in the heart of the greater Los Angeles area. Phoenix was mainly White, Barry Goldwater conservatives trying their best to hold onto 1950’s Americana, but Los Angeles in the late 1970s was different; it was alive, vibrating to frequencies of the differing cultures that called the L.A. basin home. Looking back it still fills me with excitement, but truth be told I was scared to death. When I first arrived I had no friends, no experience to prepare me for the full on culture shock I found myself facing, nor any thought of how special that area would be to me. No other place than Southern California could have provided a better backdrop to develop the foundation

Born in Palm Springs, I grew up wishing I lived at the beach. At age 5 I got that wish when my family and I moved to Carlsbad, CA. My parents, Lee and Steve, had me at an older age; so all three of my siblings are older than me by a significant amount. This put me into the category as an only child. As a kid I was involved in musical theater and dance where I made some lifelong friendships. After getting comfortable in the city of Carlsbad my parents decided it was time to move back to Palm Springs. The move was not too hard for me because I did have some friends in the area. One of my biggest regrets is not continuing musical theater when I moved. I made a whole new group of friends and it was a fresh start for me. I went through middle school

I was nine years old when I moved to California from Japan, all the way across the world. Moving to California was quite possibly the weirdest experience that has happened to me as a child. Trying to move from a place that I pretty much spent my life in than literally going across the world without knowing anything about it was very foreign to me, however my parents used to live in california for about one or two decades.

A white bunny bounced and pranced along the grass of the warm meadow the sky was a yellow orange color. I pressed my nose on the glass of the backseat in my dad’s truck.

I was born in Ghana, moved to Virginia when I was four and lived there for twelve years. In Virginia, I moved and switched schools about six times by the time I was in sixth grade. As a result I had problems socially, but academically I managed to keep good grades. At the end of sixth grade, I moved to Colorado. When I got to Colorado, for seventh grade I went to a Catholic school in Aurora, Colorado, and eighth grade a charter school in Denver. I was accepted to Regis Jesuit High School for ninth grade, but wasn’t able to attend due to financial reasons. So I went to a school in Broomfield, Colorado for better education opportunities; it was at a rural neighborhood compared to the charter school in Denver. Going to Broomfield was an interesting experience; I lived in Aurora at the time, so I would have to drive fifty minutes to get to school.

Moving from New York to California , I was exposed to more education opportunities. During my junior year of highschool I started taking college classes after school at the local community college. My counselor told me about this opportunity because moving from New York i had already met all the requirements to graduate. This, I felt was a big accomplishment because I had never taken such rigorous classes before and never after school. I took one college class before during the summer so i had no worries of trying to keep up with my high school work without falling behind on my college class either.

Last winter, I moved to New York in search of a little lightness. I Marie Kondo’d my belongings and bought a one-way ticket to New York, finding myself fortunate enough to call a beautiful building (ironically, called Brooklyn Air) home. New to the city and armoured with an unhealthy dose of extrovertness, I took it upon myself to cultivate a loosely-designed supper club, where the sharing of homemade dishes was a central theme. Every dinner would be an eclectic and exciting assortment of appetite-quenchers from vegan raw cheesecake to gluten-free pizza. We (my roommate and I) started out big and never stopped, extending invites to everyone from our best friends to people passing through town. Each time, welcoming a new friendship into the fold with every fork bite.

The rosy face of my energetic mother looked back at me “Isn’t this just so fun?” she asked, full of an incomprehensible amount of life. I would eventually grumble back a grumpy response while dreaming of the time when we would be back in our warm car. My red, cold fingers tirelessly clutched at my ski poles and the scratchy, itchy woolen cap relentlessly forced me to reach up and scratch my head, making it hard to keep balanced. All the while the rhythmic sound of my snow pants rubbing together made the frown on my face become deeper and deeper with every stride that I took. I never liked cross country skiing, not when I was little. In fact, I never liked anything to do with being out in nature, whether it be hiking, skiing, or just taking a walk around our local City Forest. However, growing up with adventurous, nature-loving parents like mine meant that almost every weekend we would be out

 My eyes opened very early that morning. I looked out of window and saw beautiful weather outside.  It was cold wind.  The flowers in my garden were smiling at me.  All of a sudden my eyes got watery.  I remembered that this was my last day in California.  I was going to America early the next day morning with my parents and family.  The day was Saturday, 20th December.  Tears were running down my face.  I went downstairs; everybody in the house was sleeping.  They had been packing until late night and I didn't want to them wake them up.  Therefore, I went back upstairs.  I just started thinking about how I was going to leave my house, my friends, my relatives, and my

As a child, my family was always on the move. We lived in Fresno, Bakersfield, Oakland, Daly City, San Francisco and Yemen. My parents are from Yemen, but I was born here, in 2010 we flew out to visit the country and see my grandma. However, what was meant to be a summer vacation became a three year stay.