My mother, brother, sister, and me boarded on a ship with many others. The ship had a maximum capacity, but the crew ignored the limit. The limit on supplies left family without enough food and water to survive the whole trip. People began to die and their bodies were tossed into the water against the crashing waves of the Atlantic Ocean. The thought of my sister lying in my arms, dying is so vivid in my mind. She was so cold and eventually she stopped breathing. Unable to move and in tears, a crew member removed her body and threw her into the water. Losing someone else so close to me left me with great heartache. The only thing that uplifted my spirits was the thought of a new beginning. Our family was recognized as Irish immigrants. The United States labeled us Irish Americans and were discriminated against because of our culture and religion. Society attempted to persuade us to move further west. There wasn’t any way my family could make a move that drastic with little money my mother managed to save. The decision was unrealistic because we were poverty-stricken and didn’t have the funds that kind of move. My mother began to sew clothes and create accessories to provide an income. The money she made wasn’t enough to support my brother and I, so I went to work at a local stable, taking care of horses. The money I earned went to my mother to provide a roof over our head and food on our table. I was exhausted every day. Before and after school I would work at the stable. I came home in the evening to help my mother prepare dinner and get my brother to bed. I look back and don’t know how I managed not to drop out of school. My family as well as many other families struggled to provide the necessities. We all are familiar with this position because it is quite similar to the one back in Ireland. Many didn’t understand the point of the journey and only see the negative of the change. Although we all encountered tough times throughout the famine and immigration...