Personal Narrative: My Family, Monterrey '

Waking up early, smelling the fresh aroma of my grandma’s homemade tortillas ,and hearing the lusty voices of my family members gathered around the table is what I miss most about Monterrey. It is where I used to live when I was a child and pre-teen years. I remember how I used to play with my cousins in the streets of Monterrey, Mexico. We just wanted to have fun playing outside we had no worries, those where the good times. I really love all of my cousins they all are like my brothers and sisters. I felt happy and loved living in Monterrey. I was born in the United States, but grew up in Monterrey, Mexico such a beautiful city. It is the third largest city in Mexico. The city seats at the foot of the Sierra Madre mountains. Mexicans …show more content…
I remember when we first settled I thought where’s everyone? There was no one outside, compared to Monterrey where people are always on the streets chatting. “What is this? Do people go out here”? The first weeks in our new house were hard for me, trying to get used to a new life. Not only was it hard for me my mother was also struggling she missed our family in Monterrey. Sometimes my mom was so sad I could tell by her brown eyes she’s was crying to tell the truth, I never ask her why she was so sad. It was days later that I got to hear a conversation between my mom and dad. My mom was telling my dad how she wanted to go back she missed our family back in Monterrey she could not find herself living in Hidalgo she was not happy. My dad was just trying to calm her down by telling her that this was the best for our family. That was the night it hit me that I was not the only one being affected. I realized if my dad decided it was the best for us to live here I had to trust him. That night I made an agreement with myself I was going to give my best in school, so that I could make my mother …show more content…
High school years are supposed to be the best years of your life. The first day of school everyone reunites with their friends. Instead of being reunited with my friends I was in the counselor office. They were planning my schedule talking about how I did not know English. They put me in special a class, that’s what they called it I was in all Spanish classes. I felt like an outcast for not understanding the English language, just like my parents. I remember passing through the halls of the school, seeing the blue lockers, and feeling weird. I did not feel comfortable. Schools in here are very different from