Autobiography
My mother is Maria Emerita Menjivar, daughter of Pascual Lopez and Andrea Orellana. Emerita was born in small town in Chalatenango, El Salvador and moved to Nueva Concepcion, Chalatenango. At the age of 30 years she gave birth to me. I was born in July 24, 1998, in Nueva Concepcion. My older sister’s name is Tatiana Menjivar and she was born in San Salvador, El Salvador. In my early childhood I moved residence three times before I was four. My grandparents, which I consider my parents, were present since my birth until my departure. A couple of weeks after I turned five years old my mother abandoned me along with my sister in my grandparents house. I can remember pretty well the last moment I saw her, and the lie that I was given. I was living with my sister, who at the time was thirteen years old, and my grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. I began early education in “El Kinder”, when I turned six my sister followed my mother 's footsteps, and left to the United States. I can remember very well the color, and the shape of the car in which she got in and left. In the following years I had no one other than my grandparents, and extended family to lean on. My grandfather and grandmother took me as their kid, and raised me the best they could. I became the right hand of my grandfather by learning all the kinds of jobs necessary to grow crops, and to maintain livestock. At the age of 9 I could do everything in the farm by myself and I was trusted with it. I was able to work in the field as much as a grown-up. Education-wide I was attending school, but I was not interested in learning. In my early years of education I proved to be a good students, but as time passed I lost the motivation to perform well. Unlike my cousins, I never won any competition school-wide, or nation-wide as they did. Often, I was reproached with staining their academia image with my poor performance. By the age of 10, I got a second job to make actual money. I began to learn the craft of carpentry, so I became the youngest employee at “Buenos Aires Carpentry.” In one year I went from sandpapering the wood to actually repairing furniture. Later, in my second year I was building wardrobes, chairs, tables and couches. I was only eleven years old, but Don Manuel, the owner of the place trusted me and would leave me in-charge of the place and the workers when he had to do some errand. Because they always preferred to sit around when Don Manuel was gone I always had a lot of trouble trying to get them to work in something. Most of them were sixteen or older. They would get deeply offended and sometimes aggressive when I asked them to work on something. I stopped working at the carpentry when I was twelve years old because one time a couple of the workers who were members of gangs chased me with their bikes. Before our noon break I started to notice the change in their …show more content…
That afternoon I relinquished my job. Even though, I was only making $10 a week the money was helping out my family a lot. My fate was sealed when my grandmother witnessed how I was surrounded for a rumble. After I had turned thirteen years old my grandparents, without my opinion, decided to send me to the United States. I was deceived to embarked in a journey to get to a safer place. On bus, in cars, swimming across rivers, on foot were the conditions of an economic and quick journey to the United States; a journey that I was forced to take and scared my life. A journey to safety. In many instances, I was on my own, relying on the knowledge instilled by my grandfather, and finding humor while facing and overcoming the challenges that faced me. Throughout my journey I suffered from many unspeakable things. When I was in the desert alone without food, I reached a point where every step I took I felt it was taking me closer to the end of my life. With each step I took my pain only increased more. Despite these, the journey was a life changing experience. I came under custody of Homeland security December 3rd, 2011. I spent almost a month in SouthWest Key Program,
My mother is Maria Emerita Menjivar, daughter of Pascual Lopez and Andrea Orellana. Emerita was born in small town in Chalatenango, El Salvador and moved to Nueva Concepcion, Chalatenango. At the age of 30 years she gave birth to me. I was born in July 24, 1998, in Nueva Concepcion. My older sister’s name is Tatiana Menjivar and she was born in San Salvador, El Salvador. In my early childhood I moved residence three times before I was four. My grandparents, which I consider my parents, were present since my birth until my departure. A couple of weeks after I turned five years old my mother abandoned me along with my sister in my grandparents house. I can remember pretty well the last moment I saw her, and the lie that I was given. I was living with my sister, who at the time was thirteen years old, and my grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. I began early education in “El Kinder”, when I turned six my sister followed my mother 's footsteps, and left to the United States. I can remember very well the color, and the shape of the car in which she got in and left. In the following years I had no one other than my grandparents, and extended family to lean on. My grandfather and grandmother took me as their kid, and raised me the best they could. I became the right hand of my grandfather by learning all the kinds of jobs necessary to grow crops, and to maintain livestock. At the age of 9 I could do everything in the farm by myself and I was trusted with it. I was able to work in the field as much as a grown-up. Education-wide I was attending school, but I was not interested in learning. In my early years of education I proved to be a good students, but as time passed I lost the motivation to perform well. Unlike my cousins, I never won any competition school-wide, or nation-wide as they did. Often, I was reproached with staining their academia image with my poor performance. By the age of 10, I got a second job to make actual money. I began to learn the craft of carpentry, so I became the youngest employee at “Buenos Aires Carpentry.” In one year I went from sandpapering the wood to actually repairing furniture. Later, in my second year I was building wardrobes, chairs, tables and couches. I was only eleven years old, but Don Manuel, the owner of the place trusted me and would leave me in-charge of the place and the workers when he had to do some errand. Because they always preferred to sit around when Don Manuel was gone I always had a lot of trouble trying to get them to work in something. Most of them were sixteen or older. They would get deeply offended and sometimes aggressive when I asked them to work on something. I stopped working at the carpentry when I was twelve years old because one time a couple of the workers who were members of gangs chased me with their bikes. Before our noon break I started to notice the change in their …show more content…
That afternoon I relinquished my job. Even though, I was only making $10 a week the money was helping out my family a lot. My fate was sealed when my grandmother witnessed how I was surrounded for a rumble. After I had turned thirteen years old my grandparents, without my opinion, decided to send me to the United States. I was deceived to embarked in a journey to get to a safer place. On bus, in cars, swimming across rivers, on foot were the conditions of an economic and quick journey to the United States; a journey that I was forced to take and scared my life. A journey to safety. In many instances, I was on my own, relying on the knowledge instilled by my grandfather, and finding humor while facing and overcoming the challenges that faced me. Throughout my journey I suffered from many unspeakable things. When I was in the desert alone without food, I reached a point where every step I took I felt it was taking me closer to the end of my life. With each step I took my pain only increased more. Despite these, the journey was a life changing experience. I came under custody of Homeland security December 3rd, 2011. I spent almost a month in SouthWest Key Program,