Coming To America-Personal Narrative

Two days of flying is a long trip for a girl who is only ten years old! That’s how long it took my family and I to come to America. Everything was new and strange. We stayed at my grandparent’s apartment for awhile, and I had so many questions about everything. I wondered why everything was so different. Why is America so enormous? How would I ever be able to learn the language? Would I be socially accepted? What kind of hardships and mysteries are awaiting us? As much as I was excited to arrive in America and discover new things that were laid out before me I was a little bit afraid of the new things that were not comprehensible to me. My family consists of my dad, my mom, older brother, older sister, me, and my little sister. It was the first day we arrived at the airport,“GRANDMA, GRANDPA, UNCLE!!!!!,” I exclaimed after seeing my grandparents and uncle for the first time in five years. “WE MISSED YOU!!,” articulating the emotions of sadness and joy at the same moment. Seeing the emotion on my family’s face was priceless, nothing could ever replace that moment. As each day passes by, I recall the first time my family stepped foot in America, it was a day to remember. After staying at my grandparent’s apartment for two days, it became time to go to school. My oldest sister was pushed two years down from the grade she was supposed to be in, as well as my youngest sister. The reason for that was because we didn’t know English at first. I remember the first time my siblings and I went to school, we were so afraid because everything was so new and different. When I went to the classroom, I was wary about how the teachers were going to be. After staying in school for a while I had noticed that the teachers were very altruistic and amiable. That was the very first thing my siblings and I was shocked to figure out. since the teachers were very much like authority figures. They had the authority to demoralize you, exploit you, assail you, etc. Teachers in my country were respected very much. Back in my country, there was a time when I was sitting in class, the teacher told the class not to speak and just do the work. I was a child back then so I didn’t listen and I disobeyed him and whispered to my friend sitting right next to me.” Do you know the answer to this problem? ” I asked my friend. ”You….....come here,” said the teacher. “Me,” I retorted, “yes you,” the teacher retorted back. I was really afraid because I knew the punishment that was yet to come. That’s when I started to regret disobeying the teacher. “ …show more content…
“Because you disobeyed me, this is your punishment,” the teacher alerted, as he took out a thick wooden ruler with metal at the ends, used to measure. “Give me your hand,” said the teacher. “I don’t want to,” I protested.”I said give me your hand or the punishment will be much worse”. Having no choice but to respect the teacher, I gave the teacher my hand very slowly. “One…..two…..three... four…,” the teacher started to hit the ruler on my hand. “ Five….six...seven….eight…SNAP!!!!,” the ruler snapped in half. I looked down on my hand, it was bright red. The teacher said,”next time don’t disobey anything that I say.” On the contrary, in America, it’s very