Personal Narrative: My Status As An Illegal Latin Immigrant

Books opened my eyes to enthralling revelations at a young age. They gave me solace in my times of worry and melancholy. Especially where the lost protagonist overcame her obstacles and fought her fears. I could always relate to such struggles. I understood what it meant to feel diminutive and powerless. But I couldn 't relate anymore when the character would transform into something unique. Defying the odds. As a child, I had struggled to believe in myself and capabilities. I thought about how a child is never supposed to have limitations. A child 's best efforts is ample enough and therefore should have endless contingencies. To embolden those possibilities with nothing holding them back. But that wasn 't my case. I was only four when I left my country to commence a new beginning. A place where I kept hearing was for my good. A place that for more than a decade, I thought as my new home. It didn 't take long to see how my status as an illegal Latin immigrant would limit my goals. My mother once revealed to me that where one begins their journey is never a hindrance. If anything, it makes them anomalous, animated. And, standing out is good. She would inform me of Latino

This whole time I thought that having to suffer from what limited resources I had seemed unscrupulous, but I was blinded. My father once advised me that when one has a hunger for something, one must take a full bite of it. Not squandering anything because we Latinos do not throw out our window of opportunities. We appreciated what it means to value everything given to us. He indicated how I get to be a part of something greater, more meaningful. That 's when I realized how grateful I am. To have the capability of a prominent life that my parents only got a glimpse of but never the whole picture. I get to start a whole fresh ripple effect of change. One way or another I will make it through. I will not think my chances are small, but rather fit to challenge me. To push me. No matter the