Personal Narrative: Moving To America

I was born in the capital of Ethiopia, Addis Ababa, the place where all my best memories live. My mother gave birth to her first child at the age of 18 then to me a year later, she hadn’t finished high school so she trusted my grandparents to raise us in the city while she went to work in another. There was never a dull moment in our grandparents home, we would play countless games in the water when it rained and the yard would get flooded or get chased around by our guard dog as my family would watch laughing despite my fear of dogs. One of the things I will always be grateful for is growing up in Ethiopia, my days were filled with happiness and adventure that I will forever cherish. Moving to America was a drastic change for my brother and I, we would spend countless nights crying homesick, asking to go back home. I didn’t know what to expect when my brother and I immigrated to America to live with our mother and step dad, but I knew from the beginning it was a special opportunity. …show more content…
After a couple of years of living in a small two bedroom apartment with six people, our family was blessed with a brand new home from Habitat for Humanity. We were excited to move to the suburbs but it lacked diversity. I became an easy target for my classmates, my hair was too big and curly, my name was too hard to pronounce and I was darker then my white peers. I practiced what my grandparents had instilled in me and became immune to their insults. I instead focused on my education and as a result I was able to skip the 5th