This Comfortable Cage Called America :: Personal Narrative Essays

This Comfortable Cage Called America My br early(a)s have a cage in in which they keep two iguanas. Im sure these creatures were born in captivity, and I assume they will die in the same cage they argon in now. Its not a bad cage. There are quite a few square feet for them to run around, there is a force they can climb up and down, there is a heat flap they can relax on, and they have everything they need to survive at their clawtips. They dont until now need to hunt for their meals because their meal tickets (my brothers) provide them with four square meals a day. They can see outside their cage, but have no psyche what it would be like to live outside. I often wonder, however, what would happen if we were to banding these two animals devoid in what would be considered a natural habitat for most iguanas in the wild. Would they be likely to adapt in no time at all, or would they look for a nice buns with four glass walls and a stick to play on? And how could this news rep ort about two lizards, even if used metaphorically, apply to us as a race? We are responsible for our entrapment within four convertible glass walls, yet we are not aware of them. Inside of a cage called America we sit, and though we have a great panorama of the rest of the world, thats all it is-a view. If we could somewhathow find a way of recognizing and rupture out of this comfortable cage called life, we would be more capable of glide path together as a human race and putting an exterminate to a division so obvious that terms such as first world and third world are created to define the differences. Although I will incorporate the use of a few references, the main variance of this essay will focus on my own experiences of life in another country which, in its own way, was another world. I was taught microscopical in school or home about cultures and people other than my own. Was theple other than my own. Was there a reason I should have lettered about a less product ive people in some remote country? There was nothing wrong with the land of the free and the home of the brave, and whether or not I was culturally diverse was of petty importance in my life-until I went to live in a antithetical country.