An immigrant to most people means a person who moves to a foreign country. To me, an immigrant means something different. When talking about immigrants all I see is the heartache and tough obstacles most of my family members went through to migrate to United States of
America. According to The Center of Immigration Studies, “Overall immigration jumped 17.6 percent in fiscal year 1992 to 1.2 million”. 1992 was the year my parents made it to America for a better life, but the events prior to their arrival were far from jubilant. Saddam Hussein became the president of Iraq in July 16, 1979 until he was executed on April 9, 2003. A lot of people, including my family, have had enough of Saddam’s violence and reign of terror and knew this isn’t the …show more content…
After escaping the horrific incidents that took place in Iraq, my family made it to the scorching hot desert of Rafha, Saudi Arabia. I remember asking my mom about their time in Rafha and I remember her distinctly telling me, “It was empty, nothing but sand and tents for us to live in but for the time being it was safety”. I can’t even begin to fathom what they endured during Saddam’s tyranny or in that burning Saudi desert, but if it wasn’t for their sacrifices I wouldn’t be here writing this paper. After being in Rafha for approximately eight months, my parents finally left and flew to California on August 3, 1992 to start a new life. They said being in a different country was one of the hardest things they had to overcome. Speaking a different language, having different cultural backgrounds, and being a migrant was terrifying to a lot of the “outsiders”. My dad said he was working 3 jobs at one point to provide for my family and I. Receiving citizenship in 1997 didn’t make their lives any easier in America but they said it gave them a sense of security and a chance to give their kids a shot at a better life. The