Personal Narrative: The American Girl

I was at my new school, sitting in my fourth grade classroom, filled with buoyant children and buzzing with the energetic noise of their talking. I could hear all of the voices of those at my table clearly. I could see their lips moving along to the sound of their voice, forming words. However, I could not understand what they were saying to me. At that moment I felt like I was watching a movie on mute. As much as my classmates attempted to make me a part of their group, I was still a spectator among them.
I was five years old when we moved to Mexico, and I was distraught about leaving my friends and part of my family behind in California. I had spent every day of my life so far surrounded by them and I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live in a new country surrounded by strangers. My cousins and classmates were not initially welcoming because I barely spoke Spanish; and the fact that I was not the typical Mexican girl, but rather more of a tourist, did not exactly aid me in the process of making friends either. This initial rejection gave me the spirit to push myself to improve my Spanish and to observe and learn about the culture from the people around me. By the time I entered elementary school, I was still “The American Girl,” but I had learned to assimilate to my life in Mexico, and I had even made a few friends.
Living in Mexico was an experience that I will always cherish because of all the beautiful memories I made there. And I am grateful for my time spent in two different countries because it allowed me to experience life in two different cultures and because of the countless life lessons I learned from