My story as a Russian immigrant At age fourteen my parents dragged me from Russia, the only home I’ve ever known to America were I have to work in a factory. I live with the five people in my family in a tenant with only two small rooms. When we left Russia we did it for equality, well it seems like we never left.

Who I am My name is Sadie Belasky and I am from Southern Russia. Russia became more and more dangerous, especially for me, a fourteen year old and my two younger twin seven year old sisters. People came to our town and burned nearly everything to the ground, just because there was a Jewish family; my family. On the long boat trip here I imagined America to be a place for freedom and kindness.

Where I live We; my mother, father, two younger sisters, grandmother and I live in a tiny tenant in the ghettos common with gangs. The tenant house two tiny rooms fairly clean as it is my grandma’s only job to do. My parents want to move terribly as they are still worried about the anti-Jewish people coming after us. I wish we could but we do not have enough money to, maybe we will once we do.

What I do My friend from Russia who came here before my family was lucky enough to get the luxury of getting an education. I’d do anything to get to go to school, so I could make myself a better life. Yet while my head is up in the clouds, reality hit me hard. I have to work in a textile factory with over fifty other children, all younger than me. We work for fourteen hours a day, everyday, for two dollars a week. I’ve had to get three fingers removed because of splinters from the needles. It doesn’t hurt much, getting a needle through a finger, just a flash of hot white light before it is gone. My two younger sisters have Smallpox, which is very common here, and can not work which is a blessing and a curse at the same time.

Prejudice and the Reality of America America, once thought to be the land of the free, is now known to be the land of the prisoned. Everyone hates my family just because we are Jewish! With the nightmare that is my life, I’d rather go back to Russia, even if it is dangerous. My dad took about two weeks to find a job, yet our neighbor who was at Ellis Island with us took two days to find one because he is Italian. The kids at the factory refuse to work at the machine next to me because of my religion. I feel so lonely, as I have no one to talk to about it. We are barely scrapping by, trying to be American but the other people refuse to let us.