The current situation in Venezuela is one that is very close to my heart. I am a Venezuelan citizen, I was born and partially raised there. All of my father's family lives there. I have fond memories of my life there and of the people who still live there. I was nine years old the last time I was in my beloved Venezuela. Before leaving on the trip my father sat me down and told to brace myself, that the Venezuela I remember was not the one we were going to. Being only 9, I brushed that aside. Our house, now lived in by my uncle and his family had not changed a bit. As per tradition, we had pizza with my grandparents and all of my aunt's uncles and cousins. They told me how much I had grown and that my father and I had been gone too long. Everything seemed normal until we went to the grocery store to stock up our favorite local candies, the shelves were nearly empty. My family was somewhat well to do, my grandfather was a feared defense attorney and honored judge. In Venezuela, if you had the money or an important name you could get anything, do anything. I remember as a child my uncle bribing shop owners to let us buy some toilet paper, a precious commodity, that had been stashed in the back or my dad paying security so our suitcases full of food and supplies wouldn’t be searched at customs. Then starting at the empty shelves I realized this is what my father meant, things had been bad before but now no amount of money or bribes could get us anything. Seven years ago my mind was awakened to the atrocities of everyday life in Venezuela something that enrages me and I feel compelled to share with everyone who will listen. When I was presented with this assignment I knew instantly that this was my opportunity to share what is really happening in Venezuela, a pure straight from the source account eliminating sensationalized headlines. I knew my greatest challenge would to not be blinded by my heartache in recounting the daily struggle of the people I love most. The first real step was deciding what my paper should focus on. I couldn't decide between the economic, social and political aspects of the crisis as they are all tightly interwoven, so I simply made my thesis encompass all of them. I had years of stories swirling around in my head screaming to be formed into words and shared. In addition, I also Skyped with my grandparents and cousin and got some more updated information for them. Collecting information proved to be easy. The composition of the essay was more difficult. I had a plethora of information I wanted to communicate but a limited amount of space. I also struggled with finding the right words to help people understand just how bad things and how outraged I am. After several days of writing, reorganization and revisions of multiple drafts I finally was happy with my product. As I turned in my final copy I was pleased that my voice and my opinions on an issue that means so much to me could finally be heard.