This Comfortable Cage Called America :: Personal Narrative Essays

This Comfortable Cage Called America    My brothers have a cage in which they keep two iguanas.   I'm sure these creatures were born in captivity, and I assume they will die in the same cage they are in now.   It's not a bad cage.   There are quite a few square feet for them to run around, there is a stick they can climb up and down, there is a heat rock they can relax on, and they have everything they need to survive at their clawtips.   They don't even 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 idea what it would be like to live outside.   I often wonder, however, what would happen if we were to set these two animals free 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 glass walls and a stick to play on?   And how could this story about two lizards, even if used metap horically, apply to us as a race?   We are responsible for our entrapment within four similar glass walls, yet 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 world, that's all it is-a view.   If we could somehow find a way of recognizing and breaking out of this comfortable cage called life, we would be more capable of coming together as a human race and putting an end 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 section of this essay will focus on my own experiences of life in another country which, in its own way, was another world.      Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   I was taught little 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 learned about a less productive 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 little importance in my life-until I went to live in a different country.