I am a Refugee. And I’m an American.
In another life, I might have been poor. I might have been malnourished. I might have worked long days to make $14 a month. I might have grown up in a post-war environment and been one of the 100,000 people killed from undetonated landmines. I might have struggled under a repressive government.
But I didn’t. It’s all because of the sacrifice of others on my part. I am in the top 1% of the richest people in the world. And I don’t deserve any of it.