Personal Narrative: Moving To Fresno

“I’ll come back to visit sometime,” is what I am obligated to tell to every single one of my friends I made. Since I was young I never had trouble making friends, but keeping them was a challenge to me. It wasn’t because I was mean or because I didn’t want friends, it’s because I moved around a lot when I was younger. I was born in Fresno, California, but then I moved to Mexico at a really young age so I was raised there until I was five years old. I can’t really remember much from Mexico mainly because I was too young.
Later I moved to Bell Gardens, California, a town right next to LA, I attended kindergarten there but then my mom decided to move back to Fresno. Already knowing English, I made friends quick and I really liked the placed I lived. Sadly, we stayed in Fresno till I was a fourth grader, just when I was comfortable with my environment, my mom had noticed that the place we lived at was getting more and more dangerous every day. The crime kept rising, but I was young and didn’t notice my surroundings. My aunt was the one who told my mom to move in with her, in Iowa. My mom worried about our wellbeing so we had no choice but to move to Iowa. My siblings and I were frustrated with my mom because we liked where we lived and

I’ve never seen snow in my life until we were on our way. We drove to Iowa so when we were getting close, I remember the first time I touched snow and it wasn’t anything I thought it was like. I thought snow was soft but when I touched it was hard and icy. We lived in my aunt’s house, in her basement. Starting school at the elementary in Orange City, I was used to having a variety of races in my school, but when I went to school for the first time here all I saw was white people. I didn’t fit in at my school at all, until my teacher made me share my locker with a kid that had also just moved into Orange City, he was also Hispanic, he later became my best friend, his name was