From the legendary Tower of Babel in Mesopotamia to the Sears Tower in Chicago there has been a singular question; that of language. At first sight, or in this case at first sound, language is just a communication tool, but it is much more. Language is the center of culture, it grows and develops as people do, it is an expression of who those who speak it are. A Brooklyn street painter greets passersby differently than a Los Angeles baker even though they both speak English. But whose English is it? It's definitely not the Queen's English, or the Founding Fathers' English, or even the neighbors' English. Yet it is not limited to English: Spanish is the Spanish of the Prime Minister, the Spanish of the old Conquistador or the Spanish of the workers. You might think that with such a wide variety of languages ​​out there, you wouldn't be able to do anything globally. This is the key idea that the creators of international auxiliary languages, such as Esperanto, had in mind when they decided to create a language without native speakers, to create a language that every person has the same potential to learn and speak fluently. At the heart of the matter is the question: What is more important, the individuality of a native language or the larger community of a global language? Culture is the center of everything and at the center of culture is language. As a child grows up, their first glimpse of the world is through language, language that is unique to their culture and can never be replicated by anyone else. When the same child begins school and integrates the school's culture into their own, and in doing so their language grows and develops into something even more unique. As time goes on the process continues... halfway through the document... an international auxiliary language would solve so many problems that at the moment it is nothing more than a simple band-aid solution. After all, it will eventually develop into numerous dialects that will give rise to the same problems. Thinking back to the Tower of Babel, perhaps it was just a metaphor for the first global language dividing into foreign dialects as generations built on the works of previous ones. A native language is not just a communication tool but is an extension of the culture from which the speaker comes. In a world where people can talk to someone on the other side of the world at the push of a button, isn't it important to preserve at least a shred of the culture they come from? In an ever-growing global community it is important to keep the culture of native languages ​​alive instead of killing it with the introduction of a global language.