Personal Narrative: A Place Called America

Studying in a foreign country is an interesting experience of an individual lifetime. One tends to learn a number of things relating to ways of life in a foreign land. Social, political and economic values and aspects are usually different from one region to another. Therefore, through studying abroad one is able to learn different issues about another society such as gender and sexuality issues, social class and race/ethnicity issues. Having come from a developing country studying in the U.S.A has been a great experience personally. This paper will attempt to provide a reflection of my personal experience on studying in the U.S by comparing the history of Angola and the U.S.

Growing up in Ghana, I had heard a lot of things about the U.S. This was a country I had always wanted to visit; my prayer was answered when I got the opportunity to travel there. Arriving in a new environment came with many experiences. Adjusting with food, language and the weather was not easy. With the passage of time, however I have been able to0 adjust and fit it. This write-up therefore is to elaborate on my experiences since coming to U.S.

Although I was born in America, I have always felt like an immigrant. Why? Because I was a different race from the majority of the people around me. I live in Garrett County, where the majority of the population is white. My family was the only Chinese family in the county. On top of that factor, I had spent most of my toddler years back in Fujian, China with my grandparents. I came back to America when I was five years old and began Pre-K soon after my arrival. Throughout my years in public school, I have learned that the American identity is achieved by assimilation while retaining some unique characteristics.

I didn’t believe in aliens until I was abducted by them. I was put in some kind of contraption and I’m not sure what happened exactly, but it’s clear that I’m not where I was. Everything in 2016 is different, I don’t know if I’m in a different state or not but people are dressing differently and acting differently, and the cars, the cars are all different! I’ve been here for quite some time now and have noticed a lot of differences from where I lived in Oceanside, California in 1940. I’ve been transported to the year 2016 and there are so many things that have changed and evolved and among them are political, economic, social, and cultural changes.

America’s gift to my generation is amazing because veterans have used all their potential for us. They fought for us to be alive right now. Their gift to us is much more than I expected. I am so thankful and I appreciate all they have done for us.

Moving to the United States is a huge step for an immigrant. As an international student, I have been passing through this event that most Brazilian desire to. However, it is hard to adapt with the new culture and lifestyle, knowing that I have my own values. The “Two Ways to Belong in America” illustrates two views of getting used with this new culture, in which I identified myself with one of these ways: my nationality cannot be change with a simple paper called green card. Thus, starting a new life in a foreign country is tough because I have to find a way to readjust to this new culture, not ignoring

Growing up in America, I have always been surrounded by many cultures and different ethnic groups. Many of those cultures differ from my own traditionally. For the first half of my life, I was raised in detroit, a predominantly black city - I had always assumed. My family eventually moved out of Detroit and we moved to Inkster. Inkster was a much smaller city, but it was also a predominantly black city. In 2011, my family moved from Inkster, Michigan to Canton, Michigan. Although the two cities are less than a half hour apart - the cultural and ethnic groups are extremely diverse. While attending my freshman year of high school in Canton I realized, I was a minority there. More than half of the student body, more than half of the community

One day I was sitting in English class doing my work. Then a flying whale flew into the wall and destroyed it. It flew over to me and swallowed me whole. It then just flew back to the ocean. While in the whale's stomach I saw some interesting things like a dead person, a needle with steroids in it, a few soccer balls, a rabbit, and a roll of duct tape. After I had been in the whale's stomach for about 3 hours, it started to shake violently. Then something was squeezing the life out of the whale. All of the sudden i was flying through the air along with everything else. I landed on some sort of island.

Living in America has its ups and downs. The different culture and people is what makes America to me. Every day I learn something new while I go to school in America. Personally, as the days go back I carless about humanity and more about myself and how to improve myself. Money has become a major need for me recently and I don’t believe in love anymore. Sometime I just sit and think what kind of person I be like if I keep living in America. I’m happy I can here for school, I don’t think I would know this must about life. And as the days pass by I learn so much more about myself that it makes me question if I ever knew anything to begin with. Unfortunately, I still wonder what life would have been like if I did my college education in Nigeria.

I feel that America’s greatest gift to my generation would be freedom. Freedom has technically given me life, an education, and has taught me important life lessons. I would not want to live in a country that is not free.

As an international student, it is critical to consider schools which are friendly towards persons who may not share the same culture as the major population of the student body. Having lived and thrived in a culture so different from my own for sometime, I have learned that for the most part, people are a lot welcoming to my culture when I do not try to hide from it but rather, offer my different perceptions and opinions about the questions I am being asked.

I was born in Havana, Cuba and lived there for ten years. If I am honest I cannot remember much about Cuba unlike my mother; however even though I cannot remember much I always used to think that Cuba was home regardless of how long we stayed in America. Similar to most children I took after the actions of my parents while growing up. If my mother and grandmother spoke about Cuba or any topic related to it I would listen to them and then I tried to have the same conversation with my uncle as if to let them know that I was thinking about Cuba as well. I used to believe that when we flew over to America we brought Cuba with us and that was a normal thing; however my thinking was changed over the course of only one year in America.

I was born in 1962, Detroit, Michigan. I remember it clearly, there was lots of noise, machines, and sparks - a very industrial type of place. I was being pieced together with my brothers and sisters, I don’t know how many of them there were, though. Probably around 400,000 of them. About 27,000 of them just like me, the “Classic” with my decent sized power and good body shape. My other brothers have bigger muscles and better body lines. They are called the “Ambassadors.” My sisters, the humans call them the “Americans” have a better ability to go longer without having to drink, and are very petite. But, aside from the building not being the cleanest, with dirt and dust everywhere, the place had a very tough sensation in it. Big metal machinery and bullet proof strength, was where I was born. Made 100% in the USA.

It was the summer of 2014. We had ten days to have the American vacation of a lifetime. This short period of time in my life would define America to my family and I. The rocky structures, colors resembling rust in Utah, the blistering heat of Arizona. The insect ridden Nebraska. The industrial Ilinois. The Great Lakes overlooked by Wisconsin. The rocky mountains covered from base to peak in trees, almost submerged in a vivid green. Now it was time, to take it all on and explore.

Growing up in Edmonds, Washington exposed me to a largely white, liberal, gender-binary, heterosexual, Christian worldview. My idea of American society is that in general, women fulfill the role of caretaker in the household and may or may not work outside the home. Men, on the other hand, are perceived to provide and lead.