Issue 1 October 2020

10 the hourglass | October 2020
INSIDE THE AMERICAN
BUBBLE, WE’RE SANITIZED
TO MODERN SLAVERY
EXPLORING THE IMPACTS OF AMERICAN COMPLacency
By SOPHIA LEE ‘22
W
hen you hear the
phrase “all lives
matter,” what’s
the first thing that
comes to your mind?
If you’re like me,
your automatic response
would be to
recall news stories of
racial prejudice that
have left no part of
the media untouched.
But when has the
notion of “all lives
matter” increasingly
narrowed to only
include the 328
million American
residents
of the world’s
7.6 billion?
Here’s
an undiluted
truth
—
no
matter
your
economic or
racial status in the
U.S., if you live in
America, you are solidly
considered to be among
the top 10% of the world
in terms of money and
available resources. Yet
despite this privilege,
American exceptionalism
has only been
increasing as these unalienable
human rights
which we take for granted
appear to only apply
to ourselves, the
global minority,
when we turn a
blind eye to the
rest of the world.
“
With society
advancing
more rapidly
than ever, one
would assume
that social rights
are also being
equalized at an
unprecedented rate. In
the U.S., yes — but it’s
wrong to assume this to
be the case for the rest
of the world where dire
poverty has driven more
than 40 million humans
into modern-day slavery,
a practice more prevalent
and versatile now than
ever before in history.
In a 2018 study published
in The Washington
Post, it was found that
the average American
estimated the
global median
annual
income
to about $20,000.
However, the actual individual
makes just a tenth
of that figure: $2,100. It
was also discovered that
in general, the common
American would believe
themselves to be among
the top 37% of the
world’s income distribution
when they actually
placed solidly among
the world’s top 10%.
In other words, even
the poorest Americans
live in conditions considered
far above true
poverty, where human
trafficking of the most
Our perspectives are
dominated by our direct
surroundings and the
narrow focus of the
media”
destitute alone generates
150 billion dollars per
year, two-thirds of which
comes from commercial
sexual exploitation.
This market has
even spread to include
the U.S. As of recent
years, cybersex has
grown in popularity as
a new form of trafficking,
where forced child
pornography is sold for
thousands of dollars online
to customers tomers
all over the world. The
International Justice
Mission, a world
wide
volunteer organization,
estimated that around
47% of cybersex
trafficking victims
are 12 years old or
younger with some being
only a few months old.
Learning of this
for the first time a few
months ago, I was
shocked, horrified, and
somewhat frustrated.
How could so many in
America be so blind to
such dark and convoluted
truths beyond our
direct surroundings? I
also wondered, mystified,
what I could do as a
teenage student to make
a difference that reaches
others in completely
different continents. I
realized that through facilitating
awareness of
crises like modern slavery
to wider audiences
such as young peers, a
ripple effect on America’s
future influencers
can potentially impact
the lives of generations
to come. No matter our
ages, we can all contribute
through efforts like
funding rescue missions
(through organizations
like IJM), furthering
awareness
of international
slavery
within our respective
communities, and remembering
our blessings
as we seek unique ways
to support the millions
of global victims who
are too often forgotten.
With the assistance
of technology, we are the
most globally interconnected
generation in history
— yet somehow, the
majority of the people
in this country remain
unaware of those
disenfranchised and
left unrepresented
due to their lacking
resources. Our perspectives
are dominated
by our direct
surroundings and the
narrow focus of the
media, generating
an American bubble
of complacency
that distorts the
ugly truth beyond
our borders with a rosier
reflection and a reminder
of our internal issues.
As a child, I grew
up used to hearing my
parents regale their difficulties
as South Korean
immigrants to America:
of the language barrier,
of my father dumpster
diving for cockroach-infested
furniture, and of
my mother constantly
pulling all-nighters in
high school, sewing
clothes with my
grandmother
to pay the
rent.
This
was my
interpretation
of
rock bottom.
And the
victims of atrocities
that are perpetually
being
committed around
the globe? Those
people were outside
of my comprehension
because inside of
my sheltered, American
bubble, no one
ever expected me to
acknowledge them.
Design by Hana Ahanger ‘21