SIRI SAVES THE DAY PART 2 OF THE NEW MEXICO TRIP One day my owner pulled me out of his pocket then turn me on with his thumb then said, “blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah ,then i said turn back two blocks turn to the right then your your destination will be on your right then he put me back in his pocket but he forgot to turn me off.I tried to keep my mouth shut but there were so many questions to answer the then fell asleep then i woke up to hearing to sliding glass door are we home i whispered then i heard logan stomping on floor i’m home i whispered but i didn’t hear derrick then peeped out of my owners pocket we're not home i almost yelled then the oldest boy got curious then looked at me i pretend to be off then he
Being a Hispanic have impacted all my entire life; I lived 15 years of my life in Mexico I love being there because most part of my family live in Nuevo Laredo, I was cursing my last months of 8th grade and one day my mom told me that she was thinking about send me here to the U.S to start learn English; since I’m a U.S citizen and I didn't know the language of my country, I accepted. The most hard prove was live without having my mom at my side, since I live with my aunt now; when the days passed here in the U.S I started to depressed myself because I missed so much my house and all my family, one day in the middle of the night I call my mom crying and I told her that I really want go back to Mexico, but she didn’t take into account my desire my mom just explained me that it will be the best for my future and with the time I will be thankful with her for don’t let me go back. My mom, and my grandmother are the ones who motivates me to be a better student. Actually I’m in dual enrollment and I have taken AP classes; sometimes is hard for me talk, read or write in another language that the one I was accustomed but, every time I fail I get up and persist until I’m able to do what I want.
Ruben Martinez was fascinated with the tragedy of three brothers who were killed when the truck carrying them and 23 other undocumented migrants across the Mexico – United States border turned over in a high-speed chase with the U.S. Border Patrol. “Crossing Over: A Mexican Family on the Migrant Trail” is a story about crossing and life in the United States.
Traditionally history of the Americas and American population has been taught in a direction heading west from Europe to the California frontier. In Recovering History, Constructing Race, Martha Mencahca locates the origins of the history of the Americas in a floral pattern where migration from Asia, Europe, and Africa both voluntary and forced converge magnetically in Mexico then spreads out again to the north and northeast. By creating this patters she complicates the idea of race, history, and nationality. The term Mexican, which today refers to a specific nationality in Central America, is instead used as a shared historic and cultural identity of a people who spread from Mexico across the southwest United States. To create this shared identity Menchaca carefully constructs the Mexican race from prehistoric records to current battles for Civil Rights. What emerges is a story in which Anglo-Americans become the illegal immigrants crossing the border into Texas and mestizo Mexicans can earn an upgrade in class distinction through heroic military acts. In short what emerges is a sometimes upside down always creative reinvention of history and the creation of the Mexican "race (?)".
I. Intro. - Imagine you are sitting home one night with nothing to do. Your parents have gone away for the weekend and there is absolutely no one around. So you sit around that night watching TV for awhile but find nothing on worth watching. You go on upstairs to your room and get ready for bed. Turn off the lights, lay down, and close your eyes. All of a sudden you here a crash of glass in your kitchen. You rush to your feet and put your ear to the door listening to what’s going on downstairs. You begin to hear the voice of two men as they start going through the living room, making their way to the stairs, right outside your room. What do you do? You aren’t going to confront them since its just you—remember you thought you heard two of them right? Well you are really stuck in your room and all you can do is sit there hoping that they leave soon and don’t harm you. Now if it were at my house things would be a little bit different. For starters I would get out my shotgun from my closet and begin to see what is gin on down stairs.
I roll my r’s with pride and that pride carries me through my journey of being a first generation Mexican-American. I was born and raised in the town of Salinas, also referred to as the “salad bowl”. Beaming in culture, Salinas also possesses a dark side due to gang violence soliciting each young member of my town. Immigrating to the United States, my parents’ initial priority was to find a job rather than an education in order to survive and keep me away from the darker Salinas. To make sure of this, my parents always encouraged me to try my best in school and make it my main focus. At a young age I began to notice disadvantages I had including the lack of resources at school. Realizing we only had 5 books for about 30 students, I felt unmotivated
Since before I was born, my Hispanic heritage played a huge role in who I am and what I have achieved. My great-grandfather immigrated to this country with the desire to provide his family with a better future than his own. My grandpa grew up in Texas on the boarder of Mexico and traveled to Blue Island, Illinois as migrant crop worker. This desire passed down by my grandparents and my great-grandparents has played a tremendous role in propelling me to where I am today. Each generation sought to make the the lives of their children better than their own. My grandma received the opportunity to live in the country of opportunity from her father, and my grandpa paid for my mom to get an education. My mother pushed me to do my best in school and
As my father and I finally fit the statue of the little Virgin Mary in the back of the car, it was time to get on the road. I could already taste the guavas from my great grandfather’s ranch. Feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. The smell of my aunt’s cooking. Hearing the excitement of my great grandmother’s voice. I wanted to be there already, be in the beautiful country of Mexico. My thoughts wandered as we left my house. How much welcome, love, and the sadness of leaving was going to happen. It was too soon to find out.
Starting out at the Midland Empire Conference Championship, I remember we dropped the when we got there but still on the bus and ice went everywhere. It was stressful because only a few people helping unload the bus with all the crap that we brought because they were all visiting the bathroom after a lengthy bus drive to Chillicothe. I had heard the course wasn’t very hilly and I thought good, I might be able to hit a low 19 minute 5k, which could be a Personal Record. I never run good on week day meets because of having to go to school and then take a bus ride and run a fast time. When we finally got to walk the course, the first things we saw was this giant hill, and as soon as I saw it I was like, crap, no way for a PR, and I would have challenges on it. I didn’t
Even later that night, when house was asleep, I quietly got out and bed and snuck to my closet. I threw some clothes, shoes, socks, and a carton of Lucky Strikes into a burlap sack. I found my jacket on the floor of my room, and grabbed 50 dollars from under my pillow. Tiptoeing through the silent house, I left a brief note of explanation on the kitchen table. Slipping on my shoes and jacket, I quietly shut the front door, and ran down the dark, snowy sidewalk.
When I started to put the last piece on the time machine my phone started to ring so I picked up my phone and answered it, my mom told me to come back to the house or she will ground me. Before I left I covered the time machine for no one can find it. When I got home, I told my mom that I wasn’t hungry and started to walk up the stairs until my dad reminded me to do my homework so I started to do my homework when out of nowhere I fell asleep. The next day after school I ran to the old abandoned house where I left my time machine at. When I left Layla followed me and when she saw me go in the old abandoned house she wondered what I was doing so she went in and saw me pull out my time machine. Layla scream in excitement and asked me if that was a time machine so I told her the truth and said “yes”. Layla told me that I should take it to the contest at the school, but when she told me about it, I asked her how do you know that? Layla said before the contest I ran out of school our teacher told us about the contest. I told Layla that I will take my time machine to the contest if you will test it out
Have you ever been to New Mexico? I can tell you from experience that it’s a very fun place.
¨Today we can go visit the Fort Worth Stockyards. We can have dinner and I also go shopping,¨ suggested Aunt Mary Beth. I am in Dallas,TX Score April vacation visiting my Aunt Mary Beth and Uncle Pete. ¨That sounds fun,¨ we agreed.We all got in the car and drove 20 minutes to the Stockyards.
I just left the party for preppy rich kids, which to my dismay I was a part of, my father is an owner of a super successful oilrig. Thinking about what had happened, the douchebag who was my boyfriend hooking up with some girl from our college, shaking my head in disgust. I look up and notice that I’m in the rougher part of town, I stop a moment and think about the path I took to get here but I can’t remember, then I start to think about what ways I can get back to my house. While I’m racking my brain this shadow of a person appears out of Will’s Market, from this distance I can’t tell if they are looking at me. Then I come to the painful realization that one I’m standing under the only street light and two I’m wearing a nice bright pink shirt and bright white pants. After this thought runs through my head I whisper “f*****g h*ll whats my luck”. I decide that it’s no use trying to run or hide if they come they come.
Later that day a lady came storming into the room shouting, “they are ready for you guys!” I was in my last bits of energy and falling asleep. The last thing I remember was leaving that nasty, smelly room and getting on a truck. From there everything else is history, we crossed the border without being caught and met up with one of my aunts, in Arizona. Then, traveling to Oregon in where we would start our new lives. The ride from Arizona to Oregon was fascinating and it all seemed out of this world to me, there were buildings, cars and trees, all in which I had never seen before in my life back in Mexico. It all seemed too good to be true, was I in a dream. The most thrilled I had was when I saw my old man waiting for us at the door of our
My life has been hell these past 10 years, I don’t have a job, a house, and no means of transportation. I have been living off of other people's scraps. Here and there I will find a half eaten burger and you should see the look on my face when I see one of those. For the past year I have been thinking of stealing from other people and I have found it in my mind that, that would be the only way for me to survive. That night I waited for the streets to go dim and all the people to flee from the area in which I was going to hit first. An hour later the streets were more silent than death, there was a house I had spotted first, these folks were rich so I thought I would definitely go there first. I walked up to the gate and realized they keep it locked at night, so I quickly hopped over the brick wall they had put up to prevent animals from getting in. I used the back door so that I wouldn’t get caught but what I didn’t realize was that they were having dinner and their dining room was in the back of the house. I ended up trying the garage, but unfortunately it was locked. All of a sudden I had spotted a window in the corner of my eye, I used the vines they have on the side of