Personal Narrative: My Immigration To America

The year was 2008 when my four brothers, and I packed up for Minnesota. Our parent and three other siblings were waiting for our arrival. I was born and raised in the Southern part of Ethiopia in a remote village. I came from a community of undereducated farmers where there was no opportunity for education. At the age of three, my parents with my three siblings immigrated to the United States. I was left behind with my grandmother in a small village in Ethiopia. My parents abandoned me in Ethiopia without telling me where they were going. At the time, I was too naive to understand their situation, and I missed them dearly. I pondered a lot to figure out why my parents left me, but I was determined to attend school to get an education. School …show more content…
The rumor seems to grow rapidly even when my uncle told my sibling and me that we might be coming to America. To me, this place was a fantasy, most of the wonderful things I heard seems so unreal. I haven’t even been to any cities in Ethiopia in my life, but I am moving to America. I was beyond excited and happy, to know that I will be reunited with the rest of my family. I was excited that I will for the first time get a solid education. I was excited to know that my life in America will be more than a stay home mother. I was excited to know that women have the same opportunity as men in America. For the most part, I was excited because my life change for the …show more content…
A week after our arrival we were expected to go to school. Without no prior education in English and not knowing the language, the idea of going to school after just arriving was insane. The only words I knew in English was book, slippers and ruler. The Funny thing is that I did not even bother to tell my parent how crazy of an idea this is. I was starting school in the middle of 6th grade, I did not speak any English, and I did not know anyone. The school was a ten-minute walk from my home; I remember driving there with my parent. When my father pulled up to the school, I was sitting in the back sit looking up at the building. I couldn 't believe student learn in this building; it was big and beautiful. I remember my and I walking to the front office, and the lady was smiling and saying in English wish I did not understand, but I smiled. A minute later I was handed a paper; it was probably the schedule which I did not understand. Then my walked me out the office and told me to go upstairs to my first class, and by the time I saw the stairs both parents left. I had to carry things on my own now; I walked to the second floor, and I remember seeing so many students walking around and running to class. I was just standing still in the middle of the hallway while all the other kids walked through me like I’m invisible. At one point I remember asking myself why anyone is not paying attention to me, I was nervous. After