In this essay my main goal was to show negligence we show as a nation to international problems altogether , but solely as Americans do we have an obligation to strangers? The question I’ve been trying to solve throughout this whole unit, though there are many different answers to this question, I showed my point of view when answering this question.

         As we can see in the image above, we observe a picture of two mindless individuals playing golf in this notorious club, but as you take a closer look at the picture you can observe men along the top of the picture, attempting to ascend over the fence into a Spain province from Morocco. Do the golfers really not see them or do they pretend they don’t know what's going on and go on with their privileged lives like any other day? As Americans, what obligations do we have to outsiders? And with the United States being the most powerful country in the world, what obligations do we owe, as a nation, to others outside of America?
       Even our smallest decisions as a nation may affect others around the world, both negatively and positively. With the United States being the biggest consumers in the world, we continue to support numerous unjust systems, because without consumers there aren’t  many producers because if there was a lack of demand, there would be no supply. A clear example of this is sweatshops, which are factory workshops with unacceptable working conditions. An estimated 158 million kids from the ages of 5 to 14 are forced to work everyday. Workers work an average of 17 hours days, and surveys show most of their income is just to be able to support their families with enough food to last for the day. Sweatshops are located all over the world, mostly in Asia. Workers wages vary from country to country, in Bangladesh workers can make as low as $0.13 cents an hour, others in China can make anywhere from $0.44 cents an hour then there’s others in Central America like Honduras that can make up to $1.31 an hour. This is way below America's hourly minimum wage. Big companies decide to manufacture their products overseas due to it being extremely cheap, making their losses smaller and profits larger. These big corporations don’t care about these inhumane conditions amongst their company, they just prioritize their profits to ensure that they continue to increase.  
      We are in some way at fault, because we as consumers continue to buy the products, if there was minimal to no consumers, there would be no need to manufacture these products, but since there is such a high demand for these products, the crisis continues. At the same time, there’s so much we could do. And as much as we would like to resolve all the epidemics happening around the world it’s just simply close to impossible because of how dependent we’ve become on buying the smallest things to fit our needs. Like my mother said, “How do you want to go out and fix a broken home when yours isn’t even fixed?” It isn’t our obligation to help all these other countries that are in need, but to an extent it’s our responsibility to be more aware of the problems going on in the world. Although some may not care, it’s important for all of us to be at least informed on how 95% of our clothes are being made, that the clothes we wear on a daily basis are being made by underpaid innocent men, women and even children. Even our smallest actions have a bigger impact than what we can imagine.
    Thanks to social media, we are able to go out and search for answers ourselves to see more about what's happening around the world, because if the news outlets aren’t putting enough international stories out, then we should go searching for them. Why is it that these news outlets don’t put out international news unless it involves the United States? Is it the government controlling what we get to know or is it our own negligence?
     As a nation, I think we act turn a blind eye when it comes to knowing how all these products get made, we instead decide to carry on and contribute to this system. We push away the truth, because that’s all so easy for us to do since we aren’t directly affected. But what about those living in those conditions that can’t just push away the problems they are faced with day to day? We as a nation should all be more educated on where all our products come from and how they are produced, because no matter how much we turn our head the other way, the problem still lies there and will still be there until we stop turning our head and do something about the problem. This starts off small but it’s something, and something is always better than nothing. 

Introduction; When writing this essay, it took a couple of tries until I found a topic that actually came from me. I knew from the beginning that I wanted to write about the time when I visited Mexico for the first time, but I wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted the takeaway to be. For the second scene, I found myself lost, now knowing how to connect my ideas, but then something clicked in my head I knew I could write about when I got chosen to go to Ecuador in 7th grade. I knew that many people don’t get the chance to travel, let alone so young and both of those trips were unlike and similar in many ways. Life in Central America was very unlike our day to day in the U.S. I felt proud being able to share my experiences in this essay, because I got to tell a little about my origins and my thoughts on life. One way I would like to improve my writing technique is to use more sensory details, like I tried doing in this essay, but also being able to describe what I’m thinking at the time and paint the setting for the reader.

As I stepped my first foot onto the Motherland, it felt known but new. Then both a woman and man of similar complexion to mine greeted us saying, “Bienvenidos” I do a slight smirk and greet them back accordingly. My heart raced, as I’ve been told from stories to stay on high alert, my mother said numerous times before I left, ” When you arrive talk to no one except the people you know, the police can’t even be trusted at times.” Mexico has one of the highest crime rates in Latin America.I always observed my surroundings for any alarming behavior. I walked slowly letting everyone lead the way, greeting everyone with just an ever so slightly smirk, never speaking. I continued to follow the crowd out to the luggage claim, identifying my bright pink suitcase from across the room, still always being on the lookout. I struggled to carry all my belongings as if I was going away for months when in reality it was only 2 weeks. As I walked across the ceiling high revolving doors, I felt my face light up as I spotted my family from the end of the hall, I rushed with open arms rushing into theirs, struggling to run with all my luggage. I yelled, “Abuelitos!” My heart felt at home again. They continued to ask me endless questions on how my trip was, as we made our way “home”. I crowded onto the backseat of the car with all my luggage, my eyes glued to the window not knowing where to look, I couldn’t believe it I was finally here, the place I’ve heard about my whole life, where my parents had grown up. Everything wasn’t so magical as we passed tall skyscrapers, apartments, federal buildings, city houses and a zoo. I couldn’t help but notice the same thing at every corner children on the streets selling bracelets, candies, cd’s and food. These children should be in school but instead their out on the streets day and night for some spare change just to survive. As we continued on our way to Puebla, roughly a 2 hour drive. I noticed as we got closer no skyscrapers, no apartments, no city houses, all you saw for miles was green and for as far as you can look that’s all you saw, but there was one thing right in the center, Iztaccihuatl the sleeping lady, an inactive volcano . Having heard so many stories about this volcano it made it seem as if I was just seeing it once more. The uneven dirt roads led to the main streets, houses parallel to each other, each house labeled with name tags. The boys played soccer with each other, barefoot. Women coming home from the market holding the groceries on their heads heading home. This places was unlike anything I’ve experienced before. Then a year later, a letter arrived at my house saying, “ Hillary Hernandez you have been one of the chosen students to go to Ecuador,” my dad read out loud. I yelled with excitement, I couldn’t believe it in a couple months I would be traveling to a different continent with 13 of my classmates. Then the day came, I didn’t know how to feel I was feeling a rush of different emotions, I was ecstatic that I had gotten this extraordinary opportunity but frantic at the same time. I was going into this new environment and culture I knew nothing of. As we said goodbye to our parents, tears started to run down my face, for a slight second I thought about just going back with them and not going anymore, but I knew that wasn’t an option. After a lengthy 9 hour flight, we landed in Quito, the capital of Ecuador. We boarded onto a bus to the hostel, house lights we’re the only thing leading the way at 3am. My head rocked back and forth as I forced myself to stay awake, but ended up caving, since I hadn’t slept the whole flight. My anxiety kept me up watching endless movies. On the first day, we visited an orphanage on the slum part of Quito. I couldn’t help but notice that Quito had a lot of similarities to Mexico, kids sold candies on the street and washed cars windows for some spare change. I didn’t know how these kids would react to foreigners coming in, but all we wanted was to bring them joy with gifts and volunteer work. The first girl I had met there was a 14 year girl named Isabell, she told me her story about being raped by her stepfather and getting kicked out of her house then for a while she was living on the streets before getting taken in by the orphanage. I felt the tears go down my face with such frustration and empathy, but here stood this girl in front of me telling me her story with no emotion, as if she was used to it or it was her fault. The sad thing is that she wasn’t the only one with a similar story. When I look back at my time I spent in both Mexico and Ecuador, and I see the struggle of the corrupted system and I praise my parents for their sacrifice and courage on how much my parents had to go through, just to get to where they are today. They grew up with absolutely nothing back home and they had to come to a foreign land as a necessity for a better future one back home couldn’t offer. They’ve taught me that money isn’t everything, that when their grandmother couldn’t buy them something she would just make it and that made her cherish is 100x more. My experiences in both of these countries made me realize that I look selfish for taking for granted even the smallest things like having a roof to live under or having an education and food on the table every day.I look around and realize that not just me but us as a society take things for granted everyday or make fun of those who don’t have as much as us. That we are always eager to post our newest stuff and show them off. That if he has 10 pairs of shoes, I need 20 pairs. That we all just feel like we have to be superior to the other.
These experiences at such a young age, made me look at the world differently because whenever I want more and more, I think back to all those kids who might not have a small percentage of what I have. Although there are times when I don’t go by this, I hope that as I get older I become more and more grateful for my parents sacrifice and to be grateful for what I have and not distressed for what I don’t