My Journey To America Analysis

Remembering my agonizing journey to America is painful, but I will never forget it. It was a day like any other: I got up, ate breakfast, said farewell to my family, and went out hunting. Walking through the familiar, verdant forest that I knew so well, it never occurred to me that I would ever be taken away from everything that I knew and loved. I had heard of men, women, and children being dragged away and never seen again, with their families believing that they were dead. However, I would soon learn that death would be a preferred fate compared to what they went through. As I walked through the woods one morning, I heard an excessive amount of noise coming from the right side of the towering trees. Because animals are usually quiet, I immediately knew that something was wrong. All of a sudden, a man jumped from among the trees and grabbed me, yelling at me to hold still. …show more content…
Our clothes had been removed, so I could feel the heat coming off of all the bodies crammed around me in the small space. My journey to America was long and treacherous for many reasons. When the white men occasionally came below deck, they were uncivil and treated us like we were no more than lowly animals. What little food and water they did give us was stale and lukewarm. We sat in our own waste for weeks, breathing the horrible stench in, developing rashes, and catching diseases that killed many of us. Watching others get taken away when they were dead became a common sight for all of us. My heart swelled with anguish every time because I knew that they threw them overboard without giving a second thought, like they did with my beloved sister. A few times, I had to be carried above to get air because they wanted to keep me alive; a young man would be valuable and make the white men plenty of money. Those times were the only bearable parts of my voyage because I was able to see the bright blue