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A Move to a Better Life
I always ask the question to myself, what would come of me if I would have stayed and lived in my “hometown”, the city of Long Beach for the entirety of my juvenile life. The populated city is north of San Diego and about twenty miles south of the city of Los Angeles. Common in most towns or cities anywhere in the world, there is what’s known as a friendly side of town and a bad, sketchy, or ghetto side of town. In Long Beach it is no different with it having a well-known crime populated area. Where my family and I used to reside was on the more hazardous areas to live in Long Beach because of not having the most amount of money I’m sure my parents would have liked. The neighborhood was majority Mexican and African-American populated throughout and I had a lot of Mexican friends growing up playing with them or having them over to my house for a little play date. I used to converse in Spanish a little bit with them and their parents and English as well but not fluently. It was a very multi-cultural way of living because most of the family’s that lived there including ours were very traditional and family oriented. On the down side it was also a very gang populated town around where we lived and at the local High school around us. It was not the safest place to grow up as a toddler but it was where my sister and I were born. In the summer on 2002 my father got a job opportunity to work in San Francisco and move from his hometown and family; he chose for my family and I to move north 45 minutes of San Francisco to a small town of Petaluma and I believe that was the greatest thing that could have happened to me and still is to this date. My father could be one of the strongest men that I know in my life. He isn’t the most fit or healthy eating peoples either but excels in the strength of the mind and spirit. When me and my family moved up north 450 miles to start a life of our own I didn’t quite understand until the past few years how...
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