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Cross-cultural experience
Importance of cultural identity
Why is cultural identity important for you
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Throughout my childhood, I was constantly reminded how much I didn’t know about my heritage. I never understood my parents when they spoke in Arabic. They enrolled me in a Sunday school to learn Islamic studies, which turned out to be ineffective. Whenever I spoke on the phone with family overseas, I couldn’t understand a word they said. As a result, eight years ago, my parents flipped my life upside down and inside out by making the biggest decision of our lives: We were moving halfway across the world, all the way to Amman, Jordan. Naturally, this decision was shocking to me, but it was a great many other things as well. I felt excited, yet scared; fascinated, yet furious. Day and night, I constantly thought of this upcoming adventure and, before I knew it, I found myself on a plane ride to Amman. My very own “journey of a lifetime” was finally starting. Little did I know, however, this “journey” would change who I am entirely.
As I stepped off the plane, I felt a dry desert breeze wrap around me and breathed in the smoggy, dusty air. My family and I managed to make our way through...
Something that has always fascinated me is the confrontation with a completely different culture. We do not have to travel far to realize that people really lead different lives in other countries and that the saying "Home sweet home" often applies to most of us. What if we suddenly had to leave our homes and settle somewhere else, somewhere where other values and beliefs where common and where people spoke a different language? Would we still try to hang on to the 'old home' by speaking our mother tongue, practising our own religion and culture or would we give in to the new and exciting country and forget our past? And what would it be like for our children, and their children? In Identity Lessons - Contemporary Writing About Learning to Be American I found many different stories telling us what it is like to be "trapped" between two cultures. In this short essay I aim to show that belonging to two cultures can be very confusing.
At the age of two my parents made the long and devastating journey to bring me and my siblings to the United States from Mexico. Wanting a brighter future for us, my parents fought tooth and nail to give us the world they didn’t grow up having. Ever since stepping foot on the U.S soil, going back seemed impossible. The effects of this life-changing move, couldn’t mask the unforeseen disadvantages. Lacking exposure to Mexico’s colorful culture, little to no bonding time with my family from abroad, and the struggle of trying to blend into an environment that was so different, soon began to interfere with my overall identity. Realizing this, my wonderful parents prepared a transformative trip back to my homeland, and back to the past, facing
When I stepped out of the hot, airless plane into the bright, dazzling sunlight beaming down across the burning concreate, I felt excited and nervous. Holding my beach bag in my hand and slipping my Ray Ban sunglasses on with my other, I flip-flopped down the airspace. Overhead I heard the screams of gulls and the chatter of the small fluffy birds. I suddenly realized I had arrived to Hawaii. This trip was such an unforgettable vacation for me because I got to witness the beauty of nature that Hawaii has to offer.
Moving to United States of America. The important event of my life. There are various changes that can occur in an individual’s life. Some variations are very little and will not affect your lifecycle very greatly. Nevertheless, other events can be very significant and could change a person’s entire life, such as marrying, giving birth to the baby, or losing someone special.
This was back in November 2007, in India. I was 12 years old. I was enjoying my normal life. But I didn’t know that my life will change surprisingly. One day I came home from the school and my parents made decision of moving to the United States. I was totally amazed at that moment. My parents wanted move so that me and my sister can have a better life, education, and opportunity.
Unfamiliarity, in the broadest sense, can evoke a feeling of fear or anxiety. However, my unique cultural upbringing has made me comfortable with unfamiliarity, and eager to embrace differences among people with compassion and tolerance. I am the product of a cultural infusion—I was born in the United Kingdom to an English father, but was influenced by the Turkish customs of my mother. While living in England, I grew up eating dinner on the floor, listening to Turkish music on the radio, and waking up to a poster of Kemal Ataturk. I spent every summer living in Turkey where I learned the language, saw the way different people lived, and became familiar with the practices of Islam. At 14 years old I was immersed in yet another culture when I
Migration is an arduous process and can be a stress-inducing experience (Aroian & Norris, 2003) that can lead to numerous social and mental health issues varying from social isolation, depression and anxiety (Blair, 2000). Alongside migration comes the complex and lifelong endeavor of acculturation, defined as the process by which individuals or groups transition from one or more cultures into another (Cainkar, 2000). Although Arab immigrants have been migrating to the United States since 1854 (Miller, 1976) and may currently number more than two million today (Nydell, 2012), discussion of the Arab American populations was, until recently, conspicuously absent from the literature. This article will first explore the reasons for immigration as it impacts the way this population assimilates to their host country. It will then provide a description of the challenges and difficulties this population faces, with a focus on the source of the post immigration stressors they undergo and the impact it has on their acculturation process. Finally, it will explore the use of an existential approach in treatment with an Arab-American client resisting assimilation to the new host country due to an inability to cope with post-immigration stressors.
Religion and Family can be very large contributors to an individual’s life decisions. Ed Husain’s authorization of The Islamist, exploits the decisions made between beliefs and family members with intriguing detail and heart: which reverberates similar things in my life as well (less extreme obviously). Hussein talks about his life as a child and his relationship to his parents while growing up in a small Muslim community. As Husain grows from 16 to 20, so does his belief and interest in the Muslim faith. However, his faith develops into more of a fundamentalist view called Islamism, which in turn goes against most modernistic views in Islam today, and correlates sharia law with personal, political, and social life. Husain develops some realizations and faces a few personal hardships, which make him decide to return to a formalistic and normal lifestyle after 5 years as an Islamist.
For seventeen years, I had been living with godmother’s family in Thailand. My parents left the country to find the new job since I was nine years old. My life was
It was a beautiful, sunny day in South Florida. I was six years old, playing by the pool with my new puppy. I loved swimming in the pool almost every day after school. I also enjoyed going out on our boat after school or crossing the street and going to the beach. My father came home one evening with some interesting news. Now, I do not remember exactly how I felt about the news at that time, but it seemed like I did not mind that much. He had announced that we were going to move back to my birth country, Belgium. I had been living in Florida for five years and it was basically all I had known so I did not know what to expect. I had to live with my mom at first, and then my sister would join us after she graduated high school and my father finished settling things. I remember most of my earlier childhood by watching some old videos of me playing by the pool and dancing in the living room. It seemed like life could not get any better. However, I was excited and impatient to experience a new lifestyle. I realized that I could start a whole new life, make new friends and learn a new language. Belgium was not as sunny as South Florida but it has much better food and family oriented activities. Geographic mobility can have many positive effects on younger children, such as learning new languages, being more outgoing, and more family oriented; therefore, parents should not be afraid to move around and experience new cultures.
I was kind of confuse with everybody, but my uncle David said once you settle in with everything and everyone you’ll see and I kept this in thoughts. My uncle Hilmi was driving my mom, brothers, and I to my uncle Isaac house since his house was like an American looking house. When we were driving my my mom didn't like the drive because dust was coming all over her face but I was enjoying the ride because this is what I can call life. He wasn't talking to us, but I had a feeling that, that would change, but I kept silent and let my mom do all the talking and me resting after that big trip overseas. We had arrived to this house with a gate and a door in the middle was a garden, I thought it was a little neat and cool but I couldn't wait to get in that bad. In Sudan the temperatures goes over 100 degrees so that night was that night where around 7 the weather was maybe 115 degrees, so my uncle put my brothers, mom, and I in this room with air conditioner, while my dad was adapting to the weather and sleep inside. As soon they had told us this were our beds I jumped in and had to share it with my mom, so my mom had to move my body because I was fast asleep and didn't feel like
A calm crisp breeze circled my body as I sat emerged in my thoughts, hopes, and memories. The rough bark on which I sat reminded me of the rough road many people have traveled, only to end with something no one in human form can contemplate.
When I stepped into the large neatly organized white polished plane, I never though something would go wrong. I woke up and found myself on an extremely hot bright sunny desert island filled with shiny soft bright green palm trees containing rough bright yellow hard felt juicy apples. The simple strong plane I was in earlier shattered into little pieces of broken glass and metal when crashing onto the wet slimy coffee colored sand and burning with red orange colored flames. After my realization to this heart throbbing incident I began to run pressing my eight inch footsteps into the wet squishy slimy light brown sand looking in every direction with my wide open eyes filled with confusion in search of other survivors. After finding four other survivors we began moving our small petite weak legs fifty inches from the painful incident. Reaching our destination which was a tiny space filled with dark shade blocking the extreme heat coming from the bright blue sky, I felt my eyelids slowly moving down my light colored hazel eyes and found myself in a dream. I was awakened the next day from a grumbling noise coming from my empty stomach.
The heart begins racing the moment the car pulls into the airport parking lot. The smell of jet fuel, automobile exhaust, and hot tarmac combine to assault the senses with images of exotic escapes and the kind of freedom that can only come from airports. I feel the thrum of the engines at takeoff and the vibration of the plane during the flight in my skin. I see people listening to MP3s and playing video games. I hear the couple behind me chatting about the weather in Florida and the possibility of rain. I recognize the smell of fading perfume that women are wearing. Chanel, Windsong and White Diamonds clash with the smell of popcorn and Quizno sandwiches.
The inner desire of any immigrant is to be able to leave his or her country without having to leave home. The thought of leaving behind all that was close and of meaning to me arose feelings of discomfort within me. Change is many things; it is scary, it is good, it is necessary for growth but most importantly it is inevitable. So on October eleventh two thousand and eight when my father announced to my family and I the date on which we were to depart on our journey to the culture mosaic society of Canada, change seemed to have landed on our door step. This was the most important day of my life. Immigrating abroad meant changes, many of them, the feelings I recall which were of most relevance to me at the time were anxiousness and excitement. I was excited for a new beginning and anxious about how I would integrate into a whole new world. It was a bittersweet journey to the airport, knowing that these Indian surroundings; the noisy roads, the smell of savoury street food, and the