Portraits réalisés par les élèves d’Anglais à partir de l’album Là où vont nos pères
The story of Jack O’Connor
My name is Jack O’Connor, I am 45, I’m an Irish immigrant. When I left my hometown, I also left my family, 2 children and 3 grand-children to go to America to work and send money to them. I left Ireland in 1890, I took a boat from Galway . I had not enough money to buy a first class ticket so I travelled in difficult conditions. The ship was crowded, we were scared and packed. During all the journey, I thought the ship was going to sink into the Ocean. When we finally arrived in New York, I was impressed by the skyline of the city. I had never seen skyscrapers before and I couldn’t imagine how tall buildings like that could be built. When I landed on the port of Ellis Island, an official hurried us like animals. Another official pinned a number written on a paper on my jacket. I was angry because he made a hole in my jacket handmade by my mother when I was 20. Then, I entered a big hall where I met two doctors. The second doctor told me I had a contagious disease. As a consequence, I had to go trough another medical exam, when a third doctor told me I was healthy and that I didn’t have any contagious disease. One hour later, I was able to leave the Island and to go to New York to search for a job.
That was an awful experience, I missed my family for a year but I wrote to them every week and I sent them enough money to buy tickets to come to America with me.
Mélina et Axel
An immigrant story
Hi! My name’s Robin and I’m a German immigrant from Munich, where I was a jeweler. I had a shop in Ludwigstrasse Avenue. Business was good, even very good. I got married and had two children. The time went by, the children grew up, and everyone was happy. But the 30s came and Hitler too. Nazism became very important. At first, it was only threats. Some months later, some neighbors were sent somewhere, no one knew where exactly. Most of them were Jewish, like me. There were rumors saying they were tortured or sent in concentration camps. I didn’t care about it at first. But the phenomenon got amplified, and I preferred leaving the country, the 16th May 1940. So I left my family, but they weren’t Jewish, so they didn’t risk anything. That’s why I’m in Washington D.C., two years later. I found a job, I’m a grocer. I bought a shop with my savings. Business is more or less good. I miss my family and my old life. I didn’t send them many letters to avoid causing them problems. They shall join me in the next months if all goes well. I can’t wait. I feel quite homesick here.
Louise et Anfelle 2nd9
The sad story of Martine
Hi, my name is Martine Jefferson but it wasn’t always the case. My real name is Galina Warkovsky. I used to live in Krementchouk a small town in Ukraine. I lived a normal life with my mother and my father. But life was not a bed of roses because when my dad drank too much he beat me. I kept it on the sly since the night he came back home and beat my mother during an argument. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I took a knife and threatened him to protect my mother however I was scared to face the consequences of my act so I fled.
I packed my stuff in a suitcase, I left my country to France in train where I bought false identity papers. I took a boat in “Le Havre”, a huge harbor, to reach the United States. It was a very hard journey because there were a lot of people as steerage passengers.
When I landed, I was impressed by the magnificence of New York. I was asked about on my origins, my age, my disposition and the reason I left my country. Yet I couldn’t tell the truth, so I said that I was an orphan who wanted to start a new life. I invented a new name and began to work as a clerk in a big car company.
Today I am happy and married, I have got 2 children. I am a fulfilled woman.
Baptiste et Julian
