My Biggest Inspiration By Kevin Herrera
Kevin Herrera
December 15, 2016
Intro to Middle Modern
East
Immigration Story on My
good friend, Jeremy Cerda whose family is half Muslim. I chose him to do my
immigration story, as I felt he would have a family story that was more
relevant to the course material we learned over the course. I asked him to
speak about how his family migrated as he was born here.
Jeremy: “My father is a Dominican
native so things were tough on him growing up. He lived in a barrio growing up
and would struggle day by day trying to get by. Things would seem gloomy, he
never got to meet his father, but despite that misfortune he would never let it
get to his head. He saw his father as motivation and never let that get to his
head. He knew he had to leave his home in order to in time gain the financial
stability to aid his family and help them escape the hell that they were in. I
always saw this as motivation for myself. His story of eventually sneaking onto
a boat and coming to America is an incredible. I had everything growing up and
it was something I would never take for granted. He knew what he wanted for his
family, and was not planning on letting anything or anyone stand in the way of
his dreams. He was a Hispanic male growing up in rough times in the late 70s
and 80s, so I always thought that he’d be an aggressive, hood-type of a guy,
but he left that life behind him long before he had me and my sister. It’s kind
of crazy to me, since I never really experience none of that shit growing up so
it really puts things into perspective.
My mother on the other hand is a little more discrete in
her observations. She rarely spoke about anything that happened, mostly cause I think she just
didn’t really want me to know. She hated her home state of Palestine. She truly
did. She never understood their struggle as she was a young girl when her
parents decided to leave Palestine due to ongoing racial tensions in the area
which I'm assuming was due to the fact of freshly instated Israel. My mother
spoke of the horrors Palestine had caused them but she never actually told me
what it was. It was more about her hatred for them, overtaking any logic she
could have about this situation. We never understood it, but she had seen Israeli
forces march through her town, and I guess a moment like that just drew fear
and anguish out of my mother, but soon she directed it towards Palestine and
hated her home country solely because they appeared weak. My mom had met my dad
and he radiated strength, so she saw Palestine as a weak nation. She thought
they wouldn’t be able to fight because they were weak men. I feel that this
hatred would just eat her alive instead of help her in anyway or form. She always felt that women got the short end of the stick in Palestine due to opinions and what not, but she is more upset as she feels that this is actually relevant to the entire world as it seems women are held down everywhere, and it pains her to see that still.
My parents stories, despite vague they drive me you know,
because I just don’t deal with the same shit that they did, and it makes me
aware that there are hardships out there that don’t correlate with my
understanding but make it simple for me to appreciate everything I have.
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