I came to the United States when I was only four. I came with my mother and younger sister since my father had been in the United States for a couple of years now. I remember watching the trees shrink as the plane flew higher and higher. When we finally arrived in Los Angeles we stayed with my father’s friends for a while. they helped us get a small apartment near a park. My parents found work sewing garments and it was very hard for them.
When it was time to finally attend elementary my mother dressed me in my best clothes and took me to the office. I was sad when my mother had to leave me but i didn’t cry even though i felt like my heart was breaking. the years passed and i tried so hard to learn everything. When I was in 5th grade I was offered a trip to Washington DC to attend a leadership conference, I was so excited. I research everything I could but then I found out we would be going by plane.
I knew I was undocumented so I said I couldn’t go. I was depressed. My dreams were being shot down. i tried my best throughout middle school. I read all the books I could get my hands on. I asked my school counselor help the librarian with the books. She said yes and so I got a class “service”. I got straight A’s in middle school but still that wasn’t good enough for me. I took as many science classes as I could. I adored my science teachers, they inspired me. When graduation came by I wrote a speech, I was so happy that I had won.
I am currently a sophomore at a high school police academy. I chose the school so they could teach me discipline but I really want to be a doctor. I want to save people but i know it’s going to be difficult to achieve my dream. I cry when I look at colleges because I know I can’t go. Dreams are only that, dreams.