A narrative essay on your own family’s history of immigration, migration or struggle.
A narrative essay on your own family’s history of immigration, migration or struggle. (2 pages, Must include a good intro. w/ a thesis and a conclusion. NOT APA style, no references) BACKGROUND OF THE OWNER OF THIS PAPER.My name is () born November 1st, 1994 in West Africa Guinea, Conakry. My mom came to America in 1998 to find a better life for my sister and I, while she left me with my dad and stepmother. She left us at a very young age, and sadly our mother-daughter relationship is not as strong now as it could have been. Two years later, my dad also came to America to pursue the American Dream. My stepmother raised me. I grew up with my step mom, at the age of six; I realize how much my parents were a critical part to the normal development of my life. I used to be beaten by my stepmother. She never allowed me to go to school and instead she would make me clean the house, wash the dishes, do her laundry and as a result, I never got a good night’s sleep because I had to wake up at four in the morning to work my forced labors. At that age, I almost encountered all the hardships that life has to “offer”, I would even tend to say that I truly never enjoyed my childhood. When my friends were at the playground, I was home cleaning. But the worst part of it all was not to be such worker but being ignored and being violated by two family members. I was molested by my two cousins whom I viewed as my protectors. Unfortunately, the stripping of my dignity did not stop with my two cousins only, my stepmother’s boyfriend, who I truthfully looked up to as a father figure also performed such an insane act. I was traumatized, physically and mentally, that lead me not to trust anybody, even myself. My parents never knew about it, because my stepmother never allowed me to talk to them, but my parents thought that I was in good hands. In 2010, I thought the suffering was over, since my mom filed papers for my sister and I to come to America. From there I turned a new page, and left my past behind trying to focus on my future and open a new chapter. The hardest part came and it was when I was trying to succeed and I couldn’t find my way there. Going to an English school for the first time, not knowing the language or understanding it, was very difficult. However , not “speaking English or understanding it” led to high school experience where I watched my fellow peers take normal classes while I sat in the “special” ESL class for much of my day. I never participated in class, always quiet just because I was scared to say something and my fellow classmates will start laughing at me, or telling me “you should go back to Africa, you don’t belong here”. It was one of the hardest things that I had to deal with by myself.
