Narrative Essay About My American Dream

! Growing up in a war torn country, I always dreamed of living in the United States. Every person in our small town talked about how exciting and full of opportunity America was. Play dates, cartoons, and trips to Disney land made the top of every little kid’s birthday wish. Unlike most children, my birthday party did not consist of bouncy houses, stacks of presents, and a princess cake. Burning buildings, solders, and panicked refugees were the highlight of my birthday party. Giving up the only world I have ever known and fleeing to America was one of the most drastic changes in my life, especially at such a young age.
After the Balkan War, we lived in a small shed on the outskirts of a town named Tuzla. my parents were so poor at the time all we could afford was one room to house the four of us. We shared a single bed. Some nights we did not eat, depending on whether our mother could find enough food to feed all of us. My brother and I did not have a childhood. We were not allowed to go outside to play because our parent’s feared we would accidentally step on bombs the Serbs planted to kill us. Staying up late at night, I remember thinking to myself how amazing it would be to live in an apartment in the “Land of the Free”. Somewhere where I would not have to fear going outside to play.
In the year 2000, the “American Dream” was survival for me and my family and my wish finally coming true. It was a way to escape. A way to finally be able to live a normal life with hope that our dreams would become reality. As an immigrant, I felt misunderstood and out of place at such a young age. Being the only kid in my class who did not speak english was definitely a struggle. They looked at me as the “weird” girl from a strange place they have never heard of. At home, I felt as if I had no one to help me adjust. My parents worked multiple minimum-wage jobs in hopes