My Story as An Immigrant

I moved to the United States with my mother when I was three years old. I don’t remember the actual experience since I was so young, but I can talk about my experience growing up. Like many immigrant children, I was the only one in the household who spoke English, so it was my responsibility to translate calls and fill out documents. At the age of seven, I already had my mother’s and my own Social Security numbers memorized. I did miss out on some experiences that other kids my age enjoyed, but I gained so much more. For instance, while filling out job and college applications, I didn’t have to call my mom. I already knew all the information. I noticed that I was more mature than other kids my age, which helped me gain job opportunities that I might’ve been passed over on otherwise. Being an immigrant has also made me a hard worker. Seeing my mom constantly push through no matter what gave me the courage to do the same. While there are people who have placed stigmas on immigrants by stating they are criminals, I tell my story and show them that we are not. Being an immigrant didn’t make me a criminal—it made me hard-working, educated, and compassionate.