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The Mass Media

The Mass Media

The Mass Media

My Place In This World

One moment does not just exist to suddenly comprehend your place in this intricate world. There is no magical instance or epiphany or time when suddenly everything falls into place. Mysteries remain mysteries, theories must be proved, and people continue to fear the unknown. If such an instance where one abruptly comprehends their place in the world exists, then I have not experienced it yet. I have, however, experienced a nudge from my life toward a gradual realization of my place in the world. But my place in the world is due to the same theory common with you, a college graduate, or the Prime Minister of Canada.
The fact I speak about is that we all are just an existence in this universe. Scientific theory suggests each of us have our own duplicates in alternate universes; the versions of me share the same face, the same manner in conversing and we may even share a penchant for skepticism. But perhaps our experiences in our own respective universes and our origins completely differ. For one, I was born in Toronto, Canada. A fact to which I attribute my liberal stance on politics, staunch feminist mentality, and love for all things urban. My parents come from Kashmir, India, the mountainous, wintered summit warred between by India and Pakistan. Being the child of immigrants who paint tales of hardship and personal tribulations every day, and an immigrant from a neighboring country myself, has given me a perspective unique to only those whose loyalties are global while maintaining an open-minded view. It has made me more knowledgeable of international relations, progressive in thinking, and sympathizing of events occurring outside the jurisdiction of the United States.
My world is a privileged world as a result of my parents. It consists of diurnal school hurdles, engagement in political disagreements, and anxiety about impending physics quizzes. I live in a country that boasts the “modern” label, and have had many opportunities present themselves to me as a result. I do not live in a country of complete political disarray, two warring states, or have a perpetual threat of death hanging over me. My world is not a concoction of blood stains upon the pavement, an endless, dusty sky, trembling hands, or faces decorated with death like those in Aleppo. My eyes do not mirror a piercing glass of fear like those children in Brazil’s slums. I do not hear screams thrown into the air whose echoes fall in shards like children in Kashmir. I do not wear bracelets of red around my wrists like those who regress a will to live. I do not have these experiences because I am a privileged person. A lucky person.
I believe my place in this world is not to forget the people less fortunate than I am. My place is in this world to utilize my education to best serve others. My place is to recognize the absolute luck and opportunity I have, ensure others can be offered the same as I have received, and not complain.
I am just another number of seven billion and counting, but one person educating, helping, or defending another can go a long way in affecting one life. I see my place as being one to remember, defend, and serve the many diverse faces of this tumultuous world we live in.