Made in Bangladesh

Buried beneath the rubble of the collapsed garment making factory in Bangladesh, an unknown lifeless man is seen embracing the limp body of an unfamiliar woman.  Blood streaming from his eyes with the determination of a martyr as if his final cry was, "don't remember us as cheap labor.  don't think of our lives as cheap."

Nine hundred lives, gone.  Just people.  Like you.  Like Me.  Trying to survive.  Trying to feed their families. 

I have no idea where Bangladesh is on a map.  The best I can do is locate them in my closet.

A package of 4 white T-Shirts from Walmart.  Made in Bangladesh.
A hoodie from The Gap.  Made in Bangladesh.

If I frequented Sears, Kmart, JC Penny or purchased Disney themed clothing, my Bangladesh collection would be more extensive.

My Nike running shoes.  Made in Bangladesh.
Even my Ralph Lauren Polo Shirt.  Made in Bangladesh.


Odds are this unknown man clutching onto the unfamiliar woman never laid his hands on nor sewed a stitch of my above mentioned clothing but someone like him did.  Someone exactly like him did. 

Someone with the grit to work long hours every day for mere cents on the hour to appease the appetite of the greedy; to satiate our vanity, to put food on his own table.

Someone with the compassion in the seconds before inevitable death to grab a co-worker and embrace her tightly in his arms.

Someone with the label of cheap labor around his neck as if we are supposed to believe that slavery ended centuries ago.


I'm thinking about this man sewing sweatshirts for Disney and I cynically wonder if this is what Disney means when they tell us, "it's a small world after all".

And my mind starts to wander to those pictures we never see; those images more haunting than this one.  Like the pictures of dead children microwaved in their own homes by "advanced" technological weapons we callously call drones.

If anyone ever tries to tell you that drones save human lives and are cheaper than using jets or soldiers, tell them there is only one reason drones exist:  It's because drones are incapable of compassion or empathy.  They kill.  They move on to their next target and kill again.  Their trigger fingers do not waver between compassion and following orders.

Drones cost anywhere from $5 million to $12 million each.  Thirty thousand drones will be flying in American skies by 2018.  Do the math.

The haunting face of cheap labor reminds me of one thing:

Compassion.  Made in Bangladesh.