Personal Narrative Essay: My Journey To The United States

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It was in March, 18, 2010, when i first came to the “Dream Land,” or should i call it, “The land of opportunity for everyone - every race, every ethnic groups, and every cultures.” Well, this is what America known as to other countries- at least to my country. I remember it was early in the morning when I landed to the American soil. The sun was just rising and peaking over the horizon. I couldn’t wait to to smell the American “air.” When i finally got out of the JFK, I smelled the air. I didn’t smell anything special except the smell of burning gases from cars. I was thinking about my future. I was thinking I’m going to work hard and going to get rich soon; that’s what people think when they first come to America. While I was walking to my uncle’s car, I saw an anti-muslim poster stating, “ALL MUSLIMS ARE TERRORISTS AND DON’T BELIEVE IN MUSLIMS.” Underneath that heading, it said, “Nidal Malik Hasan, a muslim United States Army psychiatrist and Medical Corps major killed 13 people and 33 people were injured in Texas in 2009.” I didn’t mind much because it happened a year ago. So, I got in the car and went to my “new” home.

I got admitted to my middle school in next fall. I couldn’t wait to make new friends. I was really getting bored at home for 6 months. The
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One Indian kid came sit next to me and started making fun of me. I don’t remember everything what he was saying but I do remember one thing he said. He said “Go back to your slum country.” I didn’t know what slum means at that time. So, when I came home and first thing I did was search up the word, “slum” on Google. I was really mad when I found out the meaning of it. I don’t know why people think if your country’s GDP is low, you are poor. People could be rich in poor country too. I was really upset because even when you are from the same race as some people are, some people will still treat you like a minor if you have different ethnicity and

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