I want to travel to India
to study Hinduism and taste spices that I can’t even pronounce.
I want to visit Japan to marvel in its architecture and to study the Tao and Confucianism.
I want to speak Mandarin in Shanghai and take calligraphy lessons, because no other language’s written word is truly artwork.
I want to spend a week on a farm in Norway, watch a soccer game, a bull fight, and a parade in Spain.
I want to spend a night in Amsterdam, a week in France, a few months in Italy, and a year in London—reading fantastic literature and learning about history from a different perspective.
I want to go zip-lining in Costa Rica, climb a tree or play in a meadow in Ireland, and stand on the inside of Niagara Falls.
I want to experience 24 hours of pure sunlight in Alaska and 24 hours of pure joy in Hawaii.
I want to pet a kangaroo in Australia and an elephant in Kenya.
I want as many stamps in my passport as possible.
I want to live a life that is not confined to one country, or one culture.
And although I may fear visiting some of these places (not because I am actually afraid, but more so because I feel as though sometimes my very presence as an American is insulting) I plan on doing so anyway. I’ve met too many foolish people, who think there is nothing more out there than what they can see in front of them. Who think of the United States and brag about how red, white, and blue are the best colors. I am proud of where I was born. I am proud of where my direct family emigrated from, and where my distant relatives emigrated from before them. But I know there is more out there. I’d like see all of the colors, and hear people who live in other countries speak about why those are the best. I want to see the world.



