It’s a Small World: Disney’s Iconic Boat Ride Has Taken a New Meaning For Me
- In its simple call for unity and peace, the ride, with its cheerful, colorful boats, now serves as a reminder of what we stand to lose if we don’t act.
As an Indian immigrant, I’ve had the privilege of exploring my home country, India, and its incredible diversity. From the towering forts and palaces of Rajasthan to the serene backwaters of Kerala, from the glittering buildings of Mumbai to the ancient of Nalanda University, the Ajanta and Ellora Buddhist caves, Kali Ghat temple, the ancient city of Kashi, the Golden Temple, and the Taj Mahal — every corner of India has a story to tell. Each journey left me with a profound sense of wonder and enrichment.
I’ll never forget the same awe I felt when I first landed in the United States. I took a deep breath and held it in, wanting to soak in the vastness of this new land, now my home away from home. I traveled from Los Angeles to New York, to Nashville, to the Florida Keys, to Houston, and the finally settled in the verdant Tennessee Valley. The Great Smoky Mountains were only a short drive away, and I visited them several times to witness their grandeur and rejoice in their company.
Like everyone else, I also visited Disney World, particularly the World Showcase at Epcot. It felt like a dream come true. I marveled at how Disney had brought so many cultures from around the world into a single space — pavilions dedicated to France, Japan, Mexico, Italy, and more. As an immigrant, it was a strange and beautiful feeling to stand before these beautifully recreated representations of cultures that felt both familiar and distant. In that moment, the world seemed smaller, more connected. It opened my eyes and sparked a deep desire to explore the globe. And with my new American passport, I did just that.
The “It’s a Small World” ride was another revelation. The cheerful, colorful boats drifting past smiling children from every corner of the globe felt like a symbol of unity. It reminded me of how vast the world is, yet how much we share as humans and in our connection to the flora and fauna of this planet. The simple, beautiful message of peace and togetherness resonated deeply, especially in a place like Epcot, which seemed to embody the very essence of exploration and harmony. The ride was a moment of pure nostalgia for me, and over the years, I recreated that experience many times, bringing friends, children, and parents along. We all traveled the world without leaving our seats, and for those few minutes, everything felt right with the world.
But as the years passed, and I continued my journey like Ibn Battuta, the 14th-century Berber scholar and explorer, my sense of wonder began to shift. After traveling to countless places, I couldn’t help but notice the changes. The beauty I once cherished was now coupled with a growing ache for what we stand to lose. Jaipur, the city of iridescent peacocks and pink palaces, is increasingly threatened by pollution and urbanization. Boracay, whose beaches once gleamed in pristine white, has been scarred by over-tourism and rising sea levels. I began to see the world differently. Every new destination — once a source of awe —now came with a weight of concern. So many of the places I had longed to visit were beginning to erode, either due to human impact or the wrath of nature.
The beautiful Arashiyama Bamboo Grove in Japan, once a tranquil escape, now faces environmental pressures that threaten its delicate ecosystem. The Grand Canyon and Banff National Park in Canada, despite their natural magnificence, are feeling the effects of climate change and overcrowding. Even Whitehaven Beach in Australia, with its pristine white sands, is at risk from coral bleaching caused by rising ocean temperatures. Visiting places like Plitvice Lakes in Croatia or Milford Sound in New Zealand, I was struck by their breathtaking beauty, but I also saw the pressures of mass tourism and the fragility of their ecosystems. Isle of Skye in Scotland, with its rugged landscapes, and the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland, with their dramatic ocean views, felt like they were standing at the edge of a precipice—unpredictable, vulnerable, and uncertain. Every landscape now seemed to represent a race against time, a race to preserve what we still have.
The ongoing war in Ukraine, the shifting political scenes in Turkey, Korea, and Taiwan — these events only added to the growing sense that some of these historical places may be lost to conflict, making it impossible to visit them again. These treasures, each unique in their beauty, are increasingly showing the strain of an unstable, fragile planet.
And so, when I found myself back at Disney Land, this time in Annaheim, California with my family, after years of traveling the world with new eyes, the magic felt different. Once again, we stood in line for “It’s a Small World,” and as the familiar tune played, children from different parts of the world in Disney themed dresses and gear waited to be delighted by one of the “most fun” rides in the theme park, I felt a lump in my throat.
The animated toy children inside the ride, still smiling and singing about peace and joy, seemed as innocent and hopeful as ever. But as I looked around, I felt that something had shifted. The world had indeed shrunk, but not in the way I had imagined. It now felt smaller and sadder, ( almost less liveable) in a way that was harder to bear.
As the ride came to an end and the words “Happy Holidays” and “Peace in the World” lit up across the sky, but instead of filling me with cheer, they brought with them a sense of deep apprehension. How long would these places remain untouched by the forces of climate change, war, conflict, economic disparity, violence and relentless urbanization? The wonders I once dreamed of visiting now seemed like fleeting treasures— fragile, endangered, and slipping away.
The message of “It’s a Small World” has taken on new meaning for me. In its simple call for unity and peace, the ride now serves as a reminder of what we stand to lose if we don’t act. It’s no longer just about celebrating diversity; it’s about preserving the world’s beauty, its cultures, and its natural landscapes for future generations. Travel, once a celebration of exploration and discovery, now feels more like a race to experience these wonders before they’re lost forever.
The world is still filled with stunning travel destinations — places that offer a glimpse into the intricate beauty of our planet. But more than ever, I feel an urgent need to protect them. These places are fragile, and in my heart, I fear that their future is uncertain. The peace we once imagined in “It’s a Small World” must now be more than just a song —I t must become a call to action. A mandate! The beauty and splendor of our world are at risk, and it’s up to all of us to ensure that they do not fade into the past.
With one foot in Huntsville, Alabama, the other in her birth home India, and a heart steeped in humanity, writing is a contemplative practice for Monita Soni. She has published hundreds of poems, movie reviews, book critiques, and essays and contributed to combined literary works. Her two books are My Light Reflections and Flow through My Heart. You can hear her commentaries on Sundial Writers Corner WLRH 89.3FM.