As I was homeschooled up until highschool, I had a substantial amount of free time in which was spent in the great outdoors The most important thing I have learned throughout my life, however, is to never take things for granted. Growing up, my father used to tell me stories of his childhood:  how his family was poverty-stricken and he often worked numerous jobs in order to help his parents with payments. He didn't have a lot of money, but he had a lot of determination, and eventually after dropping out college a little after the first semester of his freshman year, he became an entrepreneur in the newspaper industry. My father ended up very well off, but always took into consideration his almost penniless childhood. He taught me that my social-economic class is merely a label in which should have no effect on me. My parents believed knowledge of the world, obtained by traveling and exploring, was far more important than sitting down in a tedious classroom, learning “pointless” material. Because of this factor, I traveled to many amazing places during my adolescent years. One of the most prominent places in which has had the greatest effect on identity is the Costa Rican rainforest.

When I was around 10 years of age-still unaware of how the world works-my family and I embarked on a trip to Central America. We drove to the resort in a van, having been picked up by a man who didn't speak english. The nauseating trip took hours of driving up and down various mountains. It was rainy, humid, and the makeshift road had many small potholes which were filled with muddy rainwater.

With an hour left until reaching our destination-a resort located near San Jose- we drove through an impecunious village. There were countless clusters of compacted houses, built from cardboard, metal sheets and planks of wood. I wondered how one person would have room to stay in it, let alone a whole family. Trash was littered all over the muddy ground, as dogs were running wild through the narrow streets. The windows of most of the houses were just a hole in the wall. There wasn't doors in the majority of the shacks, which would have provided even the smallest sense of security.

I thought about these Costa Rican houses while I learning about “Hoovervilles” a few days ago in my history class. Hoovervilles were utilized during the great depression by homeless and unemployed people. Many struggling individuals went around cities, including New York and Chicago, looking for materials that were otherwise regarded as trash-such as cardboard boxes and flattening metal- in order to construct a makeshift house. My teacher projected an image of these Hoovervilles upon the whiteboard, casting a rather sickening feeling over me. I remembered these houses- ones that look unsturdy, unsafe, and unwelcoming- from that of Costa Rica.

Having this image surfing through my mind, I couldn’t help but think how fortunate I am. It made me feel guilty for every single one of my past selfish thoughts, like why I couldnt have my own room when all my friends did, even though there were entire families living in a cramped, tiny, space. This experience in Costa Rica had ultimately taught me to appreciate everything I used to just take advantage of. It helped me piece together every bit of advice my father gave me about about social status- that one should never take for granted what they have.