The Reality of the American Dream

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THE REALITY OF THE AMERICAN DREAM

Looking back now I see that I was blind. We came to America looking for an opportunity, but instead we lost all that we came with. To properly tell my story or should I say our story I will have to start from the beginning, the very beginning.

I was born to rather prosperous Italian merchants in a relatively small city south of Venice. I was raised to work hard and to never let anyone tell me that I was not just as good as they were. My childhood I guess was something like the calm before the storm, because at the age of thirteen my mother died and my father went into a deep depression. Things became worse as time went on my father slowly drank himself to death in four years and I was left to take care of my younger sister and three brothers. We tried to make a living in our community but the money was just not there and we were forced to make a decision, stay here and live in the gutter or raise the money for what seemed to be our only hope, leaving Italy for the fairy tale work of America. I decided that it would be in our best interests to move there so for the next two months we did all that was needed to raise the money that would hopefully save our lives.

As we boarded the ship I remember that I was in total disbelief at the sheer number of people leaving to get into America. Entire families from Grandparents to grandchildren were being loaded. When it was time for us to enter onto the ship we were met by a stern looking man, in his late thirties, who gave us the number of the room we would stay in during the trip to America. I imagined that this room would be fairly small, but when I opened the door I was rather stunned by the fact that it was tiny and we only had two beds for all four of us. on this long trip we were given food twice a day, but the food was not that good and I remember that I could not wait to get off the ship so I could have a full meal. The trip over went rather well except for the...
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