Immigration As A Way To Change Life - Essay Example

Immigration As A Way To Change Life I was born in Tyver 35 years ago, in a small town near Moscow, in which economic difficulties caused the majority of my childhood to be wrought with one challenge after another. The air in Tyver is often cold and uninviting, with excessive cloud-cover that blocks out the beauty of the sunshine, which serves to plague internal positivity and severely impacts the motivation to persevere in an environment riddled with industrial buildings. The underdeveloped living environment, with its darkened and rather unpalatable manufacturing structures, create an atmosphere of dreariness which is emphasized by the haggard-looking citizens who haul themselves around the city wearily as they live out their lives in both social isolation and fear of the uncertainty that troubling economic environments can cause. During this time period, on the inside the homes of the citizens of Tyver, most interior décor is completely barren, with tattered curtains and aged, weathered furniture. Oftentimes, families have no formal dining areas, causing further psychological damage in terms of finding both self-esteem and a sense of belonging in a hostile living environment. Many families are forced to allow their extended kin to live in their ramshackle apartments or modest domiciles in order to secure enough income simply to keep food in their hungry bellies. In my family, children were forced to crowd into a singular bedroom, which generally consisted of multiple beds, lined up in a perfect row amidst an environment desperately in need of renovation and a splash of color. While other children across the globe experience joy from well-decorated bedrooms, laced with embroidery and posters of famous celebrities or athletes, the sleeping environment in Tyver was as cold and uninviting as the exterior surroundings. During the nighttime hours, my siblings and I would whisper to one another in the quiet night, always trying to drown out the deafening silence which brought sensations of instability and fear of the unknown. Shortages of food and other Westernized products caused significant problems with most of the local community. Because I was amongst the healthiest in my extended family, I was often elected to secure a single loaf of bread so that the family could have a sustainable supper. This entailed bundling up in layers of clothing to face the harsh, blowing, winter winds to secure a spot in an ever-growing bread line that often wrapped the sidewalks for over one city block. Despite the hundreds of people who stood in these lines, the despair and frustration overshadowed what little conversation could be heard as everyone wondered if the supply of food would run out before they made it to the head of the line. It was common to see young children holding desperately to their paper money as if it were their link to salvation, their runny noses indicating the long time-frame in which they had been standing in the food line. To the dismay of my family members, I often returned empty-handed after hours of waiting for simple food products, but Mother always gave me a loving pat on the head to illustrate that she appreciated my efforts. I always cherished my mother in those days, with her beautiful golden hair and her smile which could light up even the most dankest of environments. I can still recall her standing in the kitchen, clad in her tattered cooking apron, stirring a pot of jumbled varieties of cheap vegetables and pigs’ feet, singing to us children with a smooth and loving voice that sounded like it was sent from Heaven above. In those days, mother was the only bright spot in our lives and with a whisper and a loving caress, she gave us a glimmer of hope for the future. However, despite the challenges, the local community did not experience much interpersonal competition because everyone, regardless of their education background, experienced the same level of underdevelopment. Hardship builds a sense of community, as Tyver residents could often be seen on street corners, mingling and attempting to build quality social relationships amidst a background of harsh economic realities. Young men flirted with young women, who managed to muster a few audible giggles, helping me to remember that outside of poverty and utter despair, the human condition managed to flourish as individuals looked to one another for emotional support and camaraderie. I completed my Russian education by attending college while also working as a data entry clerk at a local factory. The environment at the factory was one of strict demands for obedience, as various superiors bellowed orders and refused subordinates opportunities to discuss their own suggestions on how to improve the workplace. Desks were mandated to remain sterile, thus the colorful flower vase or the charming photo frame depicting smiling people were missing, adding to the drudgery of Soviet Union workplaces. The clock would tick at an agonizing pace, making each day seem like an eternity as I struggled to complete my difficult obligations in an environment where social chatter was deemed inappropriate. Colleagues could often be witnessed slumped haphazardly in their desks, obviously worn out and seeking something that brought meaning to their largely-empty existences. Further national economic disruptions caused huge financial losses through lost bank accounts, job stability, and loss of pensions in the entire family. Realizing that conditions were not going to get better in Tyver, I decided that immigration to the United States would be the best course of action for finding a more suitable and rewarding lifestyle. I happened upon a newspaper advertisement which stated change your life and earn money in the process, which was a promotion for USA jobs. After many months of painstaking searches to find some method at my disposal of exiting Tyver, my heart leapt with anticipation when I stumbled across the article. Used as a modest wrapping paper for a small birthday gift, the article glared its promise of a new beginning in bold, inviting letters; the universe had finally provided me an opportunity for a new life. A couple of days later, I made the phone call, despite being apprehensive about potentially moving to a foreign country. This singular phone call changed my life entirely. Over a period of weeks, I began to collect all of the necessary information required to travel to the United States, including a visa and a travel ticket. By June 1, 1998, I was ready to leave Russia behind to begin a new life overseas. Though I was quite nervous about making the transfer, unsure of what I would find in the U.S., I realized that there could be no looking backwards if I wanted to find a new life and experience a better quality of living. Upon arrival, I found radical differences in the social environment over that of Russia, including different languages, social beliefs, air quality, food varieties and preparation differences, and traditions. One particular event which remains engrained in my memories occurred immediately after walking through the glass sliding doors at the American airport. People were everywhere, dressed in beautiful garments and maintained extraordinary physical beauty caused by privileged living. They were laughing and teasing one another, creating an atmosphere of joviality and utter contentment, causing my bitter heart to begin singing its first real joyful songs of praise and happiness when I suddenly realized that I had made a decision that would change my life, finally, for the better. Initially, attempting to adjust to the culture in the United States was somewhat nightmarish, as I did not understand the nuances of the social relationship and could not find a great deal of support in trying to struggle with English in order to communicate effectively. At the time, I was only equipped with basic education related to English, so words such as face or table were the only methods by which I could connect to anyone in this country. The more slang terminology, such as words used to express elements of popular culture, were so foreign to me that I could not be completely accepted by the local community. I often found myself pleading with others to explain their most simple discussions, which caused me a great deal of grief when they began to stammer and shift their feet in obvious impatience at my requests. There were times where I felt so hopelessly abandoned in this new country that I began to wonder whether the darkness of Tyver and the embrace of my mother would be preferred over the U.S. social environment. I often found myself having to push these feelings aside and continue to surge forward in trying to finding comfort in strange social surroundings. Despite the challenges, I was determined to make a better life for myself, so I worked extremely hard at communications skills development and attended a college that would assist in bringing me a step closer to understanding the elements of the English language. One particular female instructor, who lovingly took me under her wing as a mentor and friend, devoted considerable time in helping me to develop my English skills. On a few occasions, she invited me to her home, adorned with modern and clean furnishings and a healthy, happy family. As we sat together at the table loaded with bountiful harvests of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and beautiful casseroles brimming with pleasure, I thought of my family members in Tyver who were likely huddled together on the dilapidated sofa, hungrily scarfing down their meager portions next to Mother who would be bellowing her requests for forgiveness because of the size of the meal. My first visit to the American grocery store was awe-inspiring, to say the least. Beautiful boxes and packages of food, layed out in aisles that seemed to expand into infinity, adorned the massive supermarket facility. I must have stayed in the store for hours, hungrily smelling the fresh baked pastries and bread, excitedly sampling the free food items offered by smiling men and women dressed in their coordinated uniforms. Studying the vastness of meat and vegetables, I was reminded of my days in the harsh, expanding bread line and actually wept openly for my good fortune as I popped a luscious and tantalizing grape into my mouth and thanked the universe for being so kind to me with such bounty. I raced through the aisles, loading my shopping cart with obvious glee, to the amusement of other customers, as I simply wanted to taste everything this gigantic food center had to offer me. Within a period of about a year, I was able to build friendships, find a quality job, and begin searching for new opportunities as a competent English-speaking immigrant. The best day of my life occurred again in the supermarket where I met my future husband. When I saw him, with his rugged good looks and his chiseled features, there was an instant attraction. I moved through the expansive supermarket aisles, finding him following me coyly from one section to the other as he observed my sheepish grins. Finally, he mustered the courage to speak to me (it was in Aisle 8) as I laid my items on the swiftly moving conveyor belt. As he breathed his shy words of acknowledgement, I was instantly attracted to his stellar personality which gleamed from his beautiful eyes like an angel dancing on the sun-kissed clouds. Within six months, we were married in a Greek Orthodox wedding ceremony. I can remember the delight when he slid the golden band on my left finger and vowed to support me forever. Though at the time I did not have a large social network, I remember looking into the teary-eyed audience and saw my English instructor standing in the background applauding as if she had just won the national lottery. At that moment, I realized that I was, without question, the luckiest woman in the world. My husband has never failed to deliver on his promise to love and cherish and I rely on his strengths to carry me through living every day. Through the efforts and support of my husband, we were quickly able to secure a nice, comfortable home in which we had a stable income and investment portfolio which would allow us to enjoy more quality products and recreational activities. In 2004, I gave birth to my son, who is now an American citizen, who will never have to experience the nightmare of living without food or worry that he might face starvation or utter poverty. Today, my son is well-adjusted and is always quite surprised when I tell him about his mother’s lifestyle in the former Soviet Union. When he looks at the woman I am today, he sees a successful and competent woman with a bright future. When I look into the mirror every day, I see a completely different woman staring back at me than I used to admire, as this new woman now has a light heart and a youthful glow that might never have shined its light had I not had the courage to explore a life outside of Tyver. Without the assistance of USA jobs, my loving English instructor, and my beautiful husband, I really am unsure of how my life would be today. I would likely be working in a low-paying job trying to make ends meet in a country that is still yet to be developed with a positive business infrastructure. Today, however, I am reasonably confident that I will have a stable future and, with the support of my husband and child, I can put aside all of the animosities from my past and focus on what I’ve become: A happy and extremely fortunate person who, through immigration, discovered that life can always be more than what you expect if you are willing to put forth the energy to make sizeable changes. I am fortunate to have lived a hard life early on, as it has made me a much more appreciative and compassionate woman today, especially when faced with others who are challenged in this great nation. I devote, today, a significant amount of time to helping others who are less fortunate, acting much like my wonderful mother with a word of encouragement and a touch of positivity. I hope that my newfound appreciation for living rubs off on everyone I meet from this day forward, projecting to others the promise of a better tomorrow and the motivation to endure life’s challenges. I have a responsibility to the universe as a token of gratitude for everything it has done for me and the ample opportunities it has provided me to give back in whatever way I can. Read More