The season was a golden time filled with the sticky sweet syrup of childhood idealism. These days were a peculiar transition, the times before I was thrust into womanhood and the brutal expectations that came along with it. The days of childhood were gone, and the welcoming world as I knew it began to change. Unfortunately, my naivety did not change along with it. 

I’ll be the first to admit that cancel culture has its appeal. There is a certain beauty in speaking up for what’s wrong and holding people accountable. The idea of canceling can seem to empower the voiceless and reinforce that each one of us has the ability to revoke the power we have given to anyone with a platform. But over time, I, and several others, have started to perceive flaws in the phenomenon. Aside from being rendered practically futile from its consistent overuse, and sometimes overblown reactions, a fundamental shortcoming presented itself: cancel culture does not allow for growth.

You are inconsiderate if you invalidate the sufferings of People of Color and women. You are inconsiderate if you choose to talk over them and compare their experiences to your own. You are inconsiderate if your first thought when you see people online talking about relevant issues is how to prove them wrong. You are inconsiderate if you use your privilege to remain neutral and stay silent. You are inconsiderate if you give excuses to those who blatantly abuse their power and authority. You are inconsiderate if you choose to blame the victim.

Now here’s what you can do differently:

It was March 8th, 2019.  It seemed like any other typical Thursday afternoon- as normal as they got in Venezuela; and although the country's political situation has been chaotic since the start of the Chavez regime, the tension had only increased exponentially since January. When the clock struck 5 in the afternoon, the whole nation plunged into darkness- disturbing the life of 31 million Venezuelans who had no idea about the hardships they were yet to face.

When I first moved to Hong Kong, move abroad from New York, I was ecstatic to see people who look like me. I was going to be surrounded by Asians! This was going to be so interesting! Despite visiting Korea each summer to visit my grandma, I had never had the chance to be surrounded by Asians. I couldn’t wait to see a country filled with dark hair and brown eyes.

Venezuela is a land of contrasts and disparities of all sorts, where even its citizens have a hard time truly understanding what is going on sometimes. In the midst of a week-long blackout that affected the whole country, you could find Venezuela's higher class playing tennis and relaxing by the pool in country clubs. The difference in realities that Venezuelans face gives way to misconceptions about the situation in the country.

However, while the country has been working to become a place soon everyone may now about, Singapore has created a layer of “fantasy” when, truly, we should be focusing on reality. Underneath the joyous atmosphere, peaceful nights, and clean streets, there are harsh laws and harmful consequences that enforce the magic and appeal of Singapore–these all hinder our sense of freedom and speech. 

My friends and I were walking one day to a café when a little girl comes and asks for money. I gave her 3,000 pesos (1 USD) while my friend ignored her and walked away. After I caught up to her I asked, “Why didn’t you at least give something little?” She told me how millions of Venezuelans are crossing the border to take all the jobs. She told me the Venezuelans are criminals, stealing and committing crimes for money.

I will confess: being Venezuelan is exhausting. It is difficult to say goodbye to friends and family members who are leaving Venezuela forever. Yes, there is corruption, instability, a terrible government, a lack of food and basic resources, and constant blackouts, but I am proud to be Venezuelan. But you should remember all the great things that make Venezuela incredible.

Mexico and Venezuela. Different in culture, yet so similar in politics. Up until 2018, I lived in Venezuela my whole life. My family decided to move to Mexico City from Caracas due to Nicolas Maduro’s dictatorial rule. That same year, Lopez Obrador was elected to be Mexico’s president. Mexico’s Obrador is now following the steps of Venezuela Maduro’s. The former is slowly letting Mexico fall into a similar crisis as the latter.