My clothes are on fire.

In 2003, I lived in Bangladesh for the summer, where I taught English to university students in Dhaka, the capital city.

This experience changed my life forever.  It solidified my love for curry, sweltering weather, and living in the developing world.  It taught me to barter in noisy, crowded markets.  It marked the beginnings of my understanding of gender inequality, and deepened my understanding of how fortunate I am.  I left a part of myself in that country.  I'm sure anyone who's spent any amount of time overseas can relate to that feeling.

Today, I read about one of the worst accidents in a garment factory in the history of Bangladesh.  Over 100 people died in a fire that consumed the building, which was not equipped with fire exits.

I remember seeing the lines of women as they stood waiting to get into work in the factories early in the morning.  Women who crowded into the city from the rural areas, desperate for a job (the minimum wage for a garment worker is about $37 a month, but that's still enough of a draw for those living on less than $2 a day).  Clothes make up 80% of Bangladesh's annual exports, and with factories all over the country, they are second only to China in producing clothes for brands like Tommy Hilfiger, Gap, Calvin Klein, H&M, Target and Walmart.

I know, without even having to look, that there are clothes in my closet that say "Made in Bangladesh" on the tag.  I feel conflicted about how my consumerism plays into the growth of a country that I love, because of the sweat and dedication of women like the ones I used to see standing in line, who were so eager to have the opportunity to support their families.  I feel conflicted because of the danger they endure, because they are poor and because their safety is less important than profit and cheap clothing.

I want to invite anyone who reads this to remember.  To remember that there are people we've never met whose lives we affect.  Remember when you shop.  When you vote.  When you talk about what's wrong with the world.  And to remember that you and I, as members of a democratic, wealthy, and powerful society, have an opportunity to speak up for people who don't even have fire exits on their buildings.