I am writting the biographical essay, 800 word limit, there is 820 so i need to delete some, this is just a rough draft but i would like some input.
As the rain poured over the American Runway I wanted to run home, to return to Peru and numb the pain and the emptiness that I felt inside. However my parents kept walking, their eyes remaining fixed forward as if they saw something beyond the fog that lied ahead. At merely 6 years old I was incapable of comprehending why we had come to the U.S. One night, though, I would realize that what seemed to me a selfish act had been the greatest gift ever.
As tears rolled down my mom's cheeks I came to comfort her. We were now living in America but life was a struggle. Despite our desire live the American dream, were just plain immigrants doing the jobs that no one else would. Looking into my mom's weary eyes, my mind drifted to the tough times. I was reminded of the summer days, working alongside parents as the sun scorched our backs, and our muscles begging for mercy. I was tired of all that work and tired of having to put my head down to everyone. At school I wanted to excel, yet there was no refuge from the looks and prejudices. Numerous times I was called an illegal Immigrant and even told I should go back to my country. Yet up till then I had managed to suck my pride but my mom's tears eroded that barrier.
"Let's go back to Peru" I whispered desperately.
Without taking time to think she uttered "You are the reason we came here and the reason why we are still here". Those simple words were the remedy to my struggles.
As I stared into my mom's tired eyes, I saw a glimmer of hope, hope that I could make the chance she had taken be worth all the suffering. Now mature enough to comprehend my obligation I hugged her assuring her that the chance I had received wouldn't be in vain.
I closed my eyes and dreamed of the future; I dreamed when my parents could stop working so hard, where they could be proud that they came here and proud of me. But most importantly I wanted to give back to them what they gave 11 years ago, a chance. A chance to be able to live the life they had dreamt of.
From then on I was on a mission. Now every insult at school didn't wound me, it instead made the candle that burned inside me even brighter. I became driven to succeed and prove others wrong. Each night I would study as hard as my parents worked, and each A I received helped numb some of the pain we had. Today as I am even closer to my dream, I can really appreciate what my parents have done for me. The gift they gave me was the only gift I ever needed, and I can only hope that I can soon give them a gift as great as the one they gave me.
As the rain poured over the American Runway I wanted to run home, to return to Peru and numb the pain and the emptiness that I felt inside. However my parents kept walking, their eyes remaining fixed forward as if they saw something beyond the fog that lied ahead. At merely 6 years old I was incapable of comprehending why we had come to the U.S. One night, though, I would realize that what seemed to me a selfish act had been the greatest gift ever.
As tears rolled down my mom's cheeks I came to comfort her. We were now living in America but life was a struggle. Despite our desire live the American dream, were just plain immigrants doing the jobs that no one else would. Looking into my mom's weary eyes, my mind drifted to the tough times. I was reminded of the summer days, working alongside parents as the sun scorched our backs, and our muscles begging for mercy. I was tired of all that work and tired of having to put my head down to everyone. At school I wanted to excel, yet there was no refuge from the looks and prejudices. Numerous times I was called an illegal Immigrant and even told I should go back to my country. Yet up till then I had managed to suck my pride but my mom's tears eroded that barrier.
"Let's go back to Peru" I whispered desperately.
Without taking time to think she uttered "You are the reason we came here and the reason why we are still here". Those simple words were the remedy to my struggles.
As I stared into my mom's tired eyes, I saw a glimmer of hope, hope that I could make the chance she had taken be worth all the suffering. Now mature enough to comprehend my obligation I hugged her assuring her that the chance I had received wouldn't be in vain.
I closed my eyes and dreamed of the future; I dreamed when my parents could stop working so hard, where they could be proud that they came here and proud of me. But most importantly I wanted to give back to them what they gave 11 years ago, a chance. A chance to be able to live the life they had dreamt of.
From then on I was on a mission. Now every insult at school didn't wound me, it instead made the candle that burned inside me even brighter. I became driven to succeed and prove others wrong. Each night I would study as hard as my parents worked, and each A I received helped numb some of the pain we had. Today as I am even closer to my dream, I can really appreciate what my parents have done for me. The gift they gave me was the only gift I ever needed, and I can only hope that I can soon give them a gift as great as the one they gave me.