Anifa s Auto ethnography Final
Anifa Musengimana
The Road to Acceptance
I was born in Rwanda,raised in Uganda, and has spent most of my life in the
U.S. A country that I have only been accepted by a few. Most people have failed to look beyond my skin color,religion, and even my accent.But of course as I have gotten older
I have learned to accept the fact that society will always judge me and nothing can change that. Learning that truth has really helped me become a more confident person, in representing myself, where I can come,and my religion. Believe it or not I use to be ashamed of the fact that I was African, and muslim. It took me, 8 long painful years to accept myself.
I remember when I was 8 and I had first moved to Denver, it seemed like paradise,compared to the place I was coming from. It was perfect, the streets didn’t have masses of cars trying to get out of the terrific, or a 1000s of people hustling to find jobs and food in the streets, they didn’t have different smells of food, dominating the fresh smell of air.But of course there was also things I was new to. In Africa every body was covered in chocolate, while in America it was, all colors of the rainbow. In Africa people did not get discriminated for the color of their skin, rather than they were judged for the tribe they can from, or even what part of Africa they lived in. For my first 2 years in America everything was amazing. I went to a school called Whiteman, you would think it was an all white school, but no,it was actually a school of more than 70% blacks and Hispanics, in a white neighborhood. Most of the Blacks were actually Africans, from all differents parts of the continent. I only knew one girl who was from the same country as me named Rosa.Over the first 7 months I learned english by observing and also help from Rosa. After awhile I become confident enough to talk in public.
By the end of 4th grade year, I had become outgoing and was friends with everyone, at that time I didn’t care
The Road to Acceptance
I was born in Rwanda,raised in Uganda, and has spent most of my life in the
U.S. A country that I have only been accepted by a few. Most people have failed to look beyond my skin color,religion, and even my accent.But of course as I have gotten older
I have learned to accept the fact that society will always judge me and nothing can change that. Learning that truth has really helped me become a more confident person, in representing myself, where I can come,and my religion. Believe it or not I use to be ashamed of the fact that I was African, and muslim. It took me, 8 long painful years to accept myself.
I remember when I was 8 and I had first moved to Denver, it seemed like paradise,compared to the place I was coming from. It was perfect, the streets didn’t have masses of cars trying to get out of the terrific, or a 1000s of people hustling to find jobs and food in the streets, they didn’t have different smells of food, dominating the fresh smell of air.But of course there was also things I was new to. In Africa every body was covered in chocolate, while in America it was, all colors of the rainbow. In Africa people did not get discriminated for the color of their skin, rather than they were judged for the tribe they can from, or even what part of Africa they lived in. For my first 2 years in America everything was amazing. I went to a school called Whiteman, you would think it was an all white school, but no,it was actually a school of more than 70% blacks and Hispanics, in a white neighborhood. Most of the Blacks were actually Africans, from all differents parts of the continent. I only knew one girl who was from the same country as me named Rosa.Over the first 7 months I learned english by observing and also help from Rosa. After awhile I become confident enough to talk in public.
By the end of 4th grade year, I had become outgoing and was friends with everyone, at that time I didn’t care