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Mexican immigration to America
Mexican migration to the USA essay 600
Mexican migration to the USA essay 600
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Getting to the United States was very exciting, what I didn’t know was that it was so difficult I didn’t never thought I would have to go through all this again, now I didn’t plan to go back to Mexico. I was all around the place looking for a job I went to Dallas TX with my brothers but they were still doing the same selling drugs I didn’t want that anymore because I had a wife to take care of. I went to California with a couple of friends and started working in what I had experience in, harvesting. The plantations here in the United States were much bigger, we lived in a train wagon with another family this wasn’t what I expected. Long hot sunny days picking strawberries, grapes, tomatoes, whatever it was I was doing it. It was like when I
I remember the first time I came to America; I was 10 years old. Everything was exciting! From getting into an airplane, to viewing magnificent, huge buildings from a bird’s eye view in the plane. It was truly memorable. After staying few days at my mother’s house, my father and I wanted to see what Dallas looks like. But because my mother was working the whole day, it wasn’t convenient for her to show us the area except only on Sundays. Finally, we went out to the nearby mall with my mother. My father and I were astonished after looking at a variety of stores. But after looking at different stores, we were finally tired and hungry, so we went into McDonald’s. Not being familiar with fast food restaurants, we were curious to try American
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
One day, my parents talked to my brothers and me about moving to United States. The idea upset me, and I started to think about my life in Mexico. Everything I knew—my friends, family, and school for the past twenty years—was going to change. My father left first to find a decent job, an apartment. It was a great idea because when we arrived to the United States, we didn’t have problems.
I don’t remember a lot about our life in Texas, but I do remember we enjoyed it a lot. At the time, my mom was a stay-at-home mom, and my dad worked at an electric company with my uncle Bernardo. The one thing I do remember is that my dad used to jam out to "Celoso" by Grupo Toppaz and that will forever be one of my favorite songs. We stopped migrating once I started school because my dad thought I would not get the best education if I never finished a school year where I first started. Education has always been an important part of my family's life as my parents have always reminded us that they want us to succeed in life, and live a better life than
The American dream, as some may call it, is a cherished idea by those who may lack opportunities. For those in Mexico, it is something that is sure to have crossed their minds sometime in their life. The United States, to foreigners, has been looked at as a sign of opportunity and freedom from oppressive governments or unfortunate living conditions. The Other Side of Immigration takes a look at the Mexican nation and provides thought-provoking interview segments about the people still living in the nation who experience and observe the effects of immigration to the United States.
I walked around unsteadily all day like a lost baby, far away from its pack. Surrounded by unfamiliar territory and uncomfortable weather, I tried to search for any signs of similarities with my previous country. I roamed around from place to place and moved along with the day, wanting to just get away and go back home. This was my first day in the United States of America.
California, the world's most beautiful haven for all of us migrants, who have come from different backgrounds, seeking hope and new opportunities. During the early 1980s, my family's journey would begin in Michoacán, Mexico. As described by my Father (Luis), " The magnificent lands are exempt from any flaws". In the small town of Acuitzeramo (where he grew up), beauty is enriched in the landscape; however, my grandfather knew he needed to take his family to "El Norte" (U.S.). Since the family became burdened with poverty as tortillas were even too expensive to eat for breakfast, it needed to be immediately. In spite of the fact that my father loved his mother country, he and his family would leave to find better opportunities which would change their futures' and mine as well.
Since I still wanted to make friends, I desperately continued to try to break down the barrier between my peers and I and I slowly began to succeed. As I began making more and more friends, my experience in the U.S. started to become a happier one. Although there were still many things about American culture that I did not understand, I chose to face my fears head on which lead to a more content life. I realized that no matter where you are from, what obstacles you had to face, or what social class you belong to, coming to America gives you an opportunity to build a new and better life for you and your family. The journey to learn this lesson was not an easy one, but I’m glad I learned it.
As I boarded the plane to move to the United States, the beginning of September 2005, I couldn’t help but think about all that I left behind; My family, my friends, my school, my clothes, and all of the awesome cultural food. Then again, I looked forward to this new life, a new beginning. I imagined it being like life in the movies, where everything seemed easy and life was just beautiful. After all, I was going to the States; the place where most people only dreamt of. I felt very blessed to have this opportunity because I knew that it wasn’t given to everyone. Coming to America marked my coming of age because I left behind my old life, I started life afresh, and I became a much grateful person.
I was so close to my Mexican culture that when I was actually exposed to the American culture it was like I was from a foreign place. When I started to get used to the American culture and started becoming an “American” I was sent to Mexico to a Mexican rodeo camp. There I was with people that had the complete different ideals than what I was just getting used to. I went through the exact same thing that I had went through in America. I was found in this big mix-up.
I was so scared because I thought I had to leave everything I knew as home behind. However that was not the case, soon after arriving here I noticed that many of the characteristics of the Culture I grew up with were still present here. As stated by Jaime Suchlicki in his book Mexico: From Montezuma to the Fall of the PRI “Mexican-American influences can be found in every aspect of the American culture.”
In 1975, my mother’s parents had gone to America to try to find a stable job so they could later bring their children, to live a happier life since most of Mexico believed that America was where you
It is through the events in the journey of life that shapes and molds who we are as people. As for me, immigrating to America was one of those milestones that have shaped who I am. Those who have had the opportunity of moving from a different country to America know what a privilege it is. I felt the same honor to know that I would be journeying to the land of opportunity. Without hesitance, I spent the last two months packing and making the final preparations before moving to a new continent. Although it was a bittersweet time, leaving my beloved family behind, I knew that I couldn’t resist the treasure that waited for me in the new land. Coming from a developing nation the high level of sophistication that greeted me on arrival to America made feel like I was in paradise.
It was about two years ago when I arrived in United States of America, and I still remember the day when I left my native country, Honduras. As I recall, one day previous to my departure, I visited my relatives who live in San Pedro Sula. They were all very happy for me to see me except my grandmother Isabel. She looked sad; even though she tried to smile at all times when I was talking to her, I knew that deep inside of her, her heart was broken because of my departure the next morning. I remember that I even told her, “Grandma, do not worry about me, I’ll be fine. I promise that I will write you letters and send you pictures as much as possible.” Here reply was, “I know sweetie I know you will.” Suddenly after she said that I started to cry. For som...
My heart was pounding as I boarded my flight leaving the Bangkok International Airport. A flight attendant in a grey dress with a red bow draped over her shoulder announced; “Welcome aboard flight AA350 to the United States.” My journey began that day.