My Grandmother: A Short Story Of An Immigrant Family

Heavy breathing, wet from the river, sweat slowly forming on the forehead. What is worst, the fear of dying or the fear of being caught? I come back to reality. I am able to breathe but the anguish of it all still lingers. As my grandmother folds the clothes neatly into a pile she tells me about her journey to America. At the age of 26 my grandmother and her four children, like many other immigrant Hispanics, fled their poverty stricken countries and traveled to the United States. At the time, my grandmother was a young single mother who could barely afford a place to sleep in let alone pay for food and shelter for four other children. But like many other strong Hispanic women, she was a miracle; she was able to not only sustain herself but everyone else around her. …show more content…
I can say that I come from a long line of feminist. Whether they declared themselves feminist or not, the women in my family have and will forever be strong, independent and dynamic. My grandmother was a feminist, and she passed on this trait to my mother. To this day I believe that feminism runs deep in our blood. I consider myself a feminist because I was born to love my independence and challenge authority. I have learned from my ancestors to be passionate, to be strong but at the same time be fair and loving. To me feminism is embodied in everything I do. I like to be as generous as my sister or as smart as my mother or as loving as my grandmother. So whenever I think back to that distant memory of my grandmother fighting her way into America, I am always reminded of how lucky I am to be here today. With their loving hands the women in my family have created a strong base for me to grow and