Growing up, I have met a lot of people, had a lot of experiences and memories. Some were enjoyable, fun, and some were stressful, but my favorite memory was coming to America. Moving from Africa to America made me a better person and taught me to understand people better. It gave me opportunities to change my lifestyle, be around others that are different from me, and expand my education. One memory that tops all memories was coming to the United States. My father came to the United States alone in 2000 when my mother was pregnant with my little sister. He stayed in New York, and found a job in a clothing store. Then, two years later after having my sister, my mom came to join him. After living in the United States for 5 years, and getting enough money. They later moved to Birmingham, Alabama, my dad
…show more content…
So this is where my memory begins; when I was eight years old, my parents told me, my sister and I were coming to America. I was so excited; I remember not been able to sleep the night before I was supposed to depart for America. That morning, my aunt made sure my sister and I had all of our bags and belongings. My sister and I were at the airport with some family members in Africa waiting for our plane. The plane arrived at six pm (GMT), we made our way to the ticket line. I have never seen a line so long in my life. We spent at least six to seven minutes in the line.
Seven minutes later, we made our way to the front, and the woman asked for our passports. After returning our passport, she told us our seats were ready, but there was a problem with the supervision. This meant we couldn’t get on the plane. My sister and I were supposed to fly with a flight attendant, but she wasn’t on the plane. We couldn’t fly by ourselves become of our age. At this point, my aunt got mad, because of all the money my parents paid for the fly attendant to look after us. The lady called the manager, and
So this is where my memory begins; when I was eight years old, my parents told me, my sister and I were coming to America. I was so excited; I remember not been able to sleep the night before I was supposed to depart for America. That morning, my aunt made sure my sister and I had all of our bags and belongings. My sister and I were at the airport with some family members in Africa waiting for our plane. The plane arrived at six pm (GMT), we made our way to the ticket line. I have never seen a line so long in my life. We spent at least six to seven minutes in the line.
Seven minutes later, we made our way to the front, and the woman asked for our passports. After returning our passport, she told us our seats were ready, but there was a problem with the supervision. This meant we couldn’t get on the plane. My sister and I were supposed to fly with a flight attendant, but she wasn’t on the plane. We couldn’t fly by ourselves become of our age. At this point, my aunt got mad, because of all the money my parents paid for the fly attendant to look after us. The lady called the manager, and