By Danelle C., October 6, 2019 — When I was six years old, my parents decided that we were going to move from Haiti to America, just as most immigrants do, in search for a better life. I know a lot of people like to think that Haiti is a country full of turmoil and disaster, but that was only a small portion of the life that I knew. At the time, it was my parents, seven of my siblings, as well as myself. They told us that there would be no way for us to all go at once, due to financial reasons and the overall fact that there just was not room for all nine of us to travel at once. So little by little, two at a time to be specific, we all boarded a plane to America over the course of the next year.
In Haiti, my family lived in the countryside and my father was a construction worker, he even built our family alone three homes in our country, traveling back and forth between the states and our home country in order to do so. I remember being confused, a little troubled and worried about making such a big change to my life. but nonetheless I was excited to see a new land and get away from the bit of turmoil that my siblings and I were exposed to in the country. About a year later, my little brother, and ninth sibling, was born in the place my family planned to grow old together, and we have all been living well since.