(January 24, 2008) — Four and a half years of war between Iraq and the U.S. apparently did not get Iraq’s location imprinted in Americans’ minds. Geographic illiteracy is widespread in the U.S., where one-fifth of Americans can’t locate the U.S. on a map. Although this statistic is not an epidemic at Clark—20 out of the 20 randomly-chosen students polled found it without a problem—students are still geographically impaired. Out of those 20 students, nine couldn’t find where France is located, 14 couldn’t find where Iraq is located and six did not know which continent Australia is in. Breaking news—it is a continent. One may argue that there is no need to have an atlas memorized. After all, who cares if Arkansas is east of Oklahoma and that India is south of Nepal? But geography’s impact isn’t just limited to pinpointing a nation on a map. By excusing the first step of recognizing a nation’s existence on the globe, one denies its impact on the world. Without this step, one may never understand population, human-land interaction and industrial impacts of nations. So, where is Iraq? “Um…next to Israel.” No. Because many people in the U.S. are sympathetic towards Israel, their belief that Iraq is a close threat to it leads them to justify the current war. A moment spent reading an atlas will show them that Tel Aviv is more than 500 miles from Baghdad and Israel has little to do with the war America is in. But back to milder effects. Without geographical literacy, studying history about a country is like learning about Lalaland. There’s a war, famine, independence—nothing new. Empathy may be felt for the sufferers, and indignation for the cruel, but there’s no tangibility to these feelings, no explanation. Yes, geographical illiteracy is partly due to geography-lacking school curricula, but the majority of the blame should be dumped on the students who dare not waste their time with a map. Perhaps it’s because they don’t know the impact geography has on them, or perhaps they don’t care. But maybe it’s time to enforce a daily momentary break from technology to focus on humanities. After all, it’s embarrassing. When I went to Israel, I asked a 16-year-old student what he thinks about the “one-fifth” statistic. “How predictable,” he said. “How embarrassing,” I thought. It’s not AP Bio—all you have to do is study a map.