Arriving at Angel Island in 1915 was an exciting, but worrisome experience for me. Like much of the other people arriving with me, I am a Chinese immigrant with the desire to leave the poverty of China and create a new successful life in the United States. On the journey here I made a friend with a man named, Hong Chang, we became very close. When we arrived in San Francisco, we were inspected. As we got closer to the line I realized that only some were granted entry and most were deported back to China. My heart felt like it had dropped to my stomach because thoughts and questions about whether or not I would be able to stay were racing through my head. It was finally my turn, I got inspected and I was granted entry. I was one of the lucky ones, unlike Hong who was sadly deported back to China. I was upset, but I knew I had to move on and continue my quest of hoping for a better life.
I was placed in a very crowded living quarter with many unfamiliar faces. Years went by and nothing got better. Just by looking around I got stressed, but I stayed strong. Every morning I would wake up to see the dead bodies of people who committed suicide and to be interrogated. Another couple years went by and I started thinking that if I end up dying in here I would want the people of the future to remember me and how strong I have been these years in this gruesome place. As a result, I started penciling and carving all my thoughts and what my hopes and dreams were coming here on the walls. I hope that if I die and another group of young Chinese men come here as I did that they stay strong and keep striving for all their wants and desires.
I was placed in a very crowded living quarter with many unfamiliar faces. Years went by and nothing got better. Just by looking around I got stressed, but I stayed strong. Every morning I would wake up to see the dead bodies of people who committed suicide and to be interrogated. Another couple years went by and I started thinking that if I end up dying in here I would want the people of the future to remember me and how strong I have been these years in this gruesome place. As a result, I started penciling and carving all my thoughts and what my hopes and dreams were coming here on the walls. I hope that if I die and another group of young Chinese men come here as I did that they stay strong and keep striving for all their wants and desires.
1 comments:
Danielle- You did an outstanding job on this report. I loved your line about your heart dropping to your stomach because you might be sent back.
Post a Comment