It has been 11 years since we have arrived to Los Angeles, California. I can still remember the feeling of when my father had said to us that he we would be moving to a far place to try to find better jobs for my mother and him because with the two jobs my father had and the washing and ironing of other peoples clothes my mom did was not bringing enough money to support my sisters and me and did they wanted to provide a better life for my sisters and me. Mexico was such a poor country that my parents could not see themselves make enough money to support my sisters and me, let alone see us get a better education. So my parents decide to migrate to the United States with one of my mother’s brother. We arrived in Los Angeles, California on July 16, 1931, with my Aunt Julia and Uncle Fernando. My family and I were so happy to finally arrive to the U.S. to live the “American Dream.” Soon we would find out that our dreams would come crushing down fast.
After settling down, my mother decided it was time to enroll my sisters and me into school. My mother asked my Aunt Julia and Uncle Fernando what my sisters and I need to enroll into school but since my aunt and uncle did not have any children, they were unable to tell my parents the information we would need. As my mother, my sisters and I walked into the school we could notice all the “gringos” looking at us in a weird way (looking at us like we did not belong there). My mother can right away tell that there was something wrong that we would not be accepted into that school. My mom was correct, as we entered the office the school secretary told my mother that we were not welcomed there and that if she wanted to enroll us into school it needed to be in a segregated Mexican school.
Walking out of the school with confusion on her face, my mother saw an elderly Mexican American woman who spoke Spanish and asked her if she knew the reason we were not accepted into the school. The woman proceeded to explain to my...
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