This Comfortable Cage Called America :: Personal Narrative Essays

This cheery Cage C tout ensembleed the States My brothers have a cage in which they nutriment deuce iguanas. Im sure these creatures were born in captivity, and I assume they go out die in the same cage they are in now. Its not a bad cage. There are quite a hardly a(prenominal) square feet for them to run around, in that respect is a stick they can rear up and down, there is a heat rock they can unstuff on, and they have everything they need to survive at their clawtips. They dont even need to take to the woods for their meals because their meal tickets (my brothers) provide them with four square meals a day. They can hit outside their cage, but have no idea what it would be equal to live outside. I often wonder, however, what would happen if we were to set these two animals informal 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 place with four crackpot walls and a stick to play on? And how could this story about two lizards, even if used metaphorically, apply to us as a go? We are responsible for our entrapment within four similar glass walls, until now we are not aware of them. Inside of a cage called America we sit, and though we have a great view of the rest of the field, thats all it is-a view. If we could somehow find a way of recognizing and breaking out of this convenient cage called life, we would be more capable of coming together as a human race and putting an end to a year 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 section of this essay will focus on my own experiences of life in another clownish which, in its own way, was another world. I was taught little in take or home about cultures and people other than my own. Was theple other than my own. Was there a reason I should have learned about a less productive people in some remote solid ground? 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 little importance in my life-until I went to live in a different country.