After six-and-a-half weeks of conversing with people, profiling voters, and listening (somewhat) intently to a large number of campaign events and speeches, rallies and gatherings, there are certain turns of phrase that need discussing. A little unpacking if you will. Implied meaning. Likely outcomes of literal interpretation. And, when necessary, the difference between the two.
Both parties have consistently spoken about, “The American Dream.” Never expounded upon too deeply, but rather icing on the cake of a certain point about economic prosperity, family, education, or the promise of upward mobility. The phrase itself, the entire notion of The American Dream is essentially nothing more than an advertiser’s wet dream. I can picture Don Draper beating off to this ad campaign after guzzling down three martinis at lunch and four bourbons in the office.
In Dubuque, Iowa Mike Pence said that he and Mr. Trump would, “Open the doorway to the American Dream again.” In Toledo, Ohio, Democratic State Representative Teresa Fedor said, “Education is the key to moving up and moving out to the American Dream.” In Akron, Ohio, Mrs. Clinton says, “If you are willing to work for it, [you can] get ahead and stay ahead,” and reach “The American Dream.” In Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, Democratic Governor Tom Wolfe told the voters in attendance that this election was about one thing, and then he asked the crowd, “Is the American Dream actually finished?” In Miami Gardens, Florida the Democratic candidate for Senate Patrick Murphy says, “My dad was a union carpenter… no guarantee of success, but he had a drive to build a better life for his family… to work hard and grasp The American Dream.” In Clearwater, Florida a Republican Congressman tells the audience, “The American Dream is at risk for our kids.”
Such a strange thing, this American Dream. It’s a door that can be opened or closed, but it also might be dying or already dead. It’s something that you have no guarantee of attaining, but if you work real hard, you may be able to grasp it. It’s also something that, once seized, can be held onto for an indefinite amount of time. It’s also something that might be tangible for you, but due to its fleeting, ethereal nature, your children may lack the wherewithal or opportunity to grasp it. Oh, The American Dream is also locked, and the key comes in the form of education. But it doesn’t have to be higher education, necessarily. You can also be a tradesman, like a union carpenter or, like Mrs. Clinton’s father, a textile wholesaler.
Remember, though, it’s at risk, and if the other side wins, it’s going to fucking die.
Does the American Dream exist in our blighted communities? Does it live in the suburbs? Is it cared for in the minds of foster children? Does it gaze out in the penthouses of the wealthy, or sun on the decks their yachts? Does it bloom on the west coast? Does it flaunt its celebrity in Hollywood? Is it protected in the trust funds of the upper class or squirreled away in college savings of the middle? Does it live perfectly in the minds of immigrants and refugees? Does it breathe freely in preschool and get slowly asphyxiated in middle and high school? Does it wither and die on floors of shuttered factories? Is it pawned and traded for cash and payday loans? Is it tied off by institutionalized discrimination? Is it violently protected by homeowner associations with mandates on lawn-care and swatches of paint? Can it be resuscitated with a flat screen TV and a new F-150? Is it passed on for one generation but not for another? Is it craved by addicts, hustled by the poor, and tasted by the hungry, or does one need rose-colored glasses to see the way its opaque opportunity floats all around? Is its existence defined by tangible things? By material goods? By space and property? By how much wealth you can accumulate or the zeroes in your bank account? By freedom from persecution? By good health? By happiness? Love?
Alas, these days it seems that The American Dream is less about class mobility and, instead, more about material wealth. We have become such good little consumers, so obsessed with the items that may “define” us, define our lifestyles, and define our class. Such passive small and simple-minded people who find happiness only in material things, “Who,” as Noam Chomsky once said, “spend [our] time working to gain the things [we] do not need… which becomes the measure of a decent life.”
The American Dream saw it’s successes in the decades after the New Deal, in which the lower classes experienced the same rate of growth as the upper classes, but for the past forty some-odd years we have reverted back to a period of massive income inequality where the wealth of the few grows at an exponential rate and the wages, economic security, and social class of the many remains stagnant or actually declines. The effects of deregulation as profound and predictable as the economic crises and crashes of unchecked, unwatched, unethical, and, ultimately, unrepentant dealings of our financial institutions.
The myth of The American Dream is that it is inherent and impervious to manipulation. The truth is that it is much more organic. It can be fed or starved. It can be watered or drowned. It can wither, and it can die. If the policies and the systems in place support only the wealth and property of the few, then the dreams of the many will eventually suffer and die, regardless of whether or not they’re American.
Unless, of course, you’re a perfect consumer, in which case you are free of want for the greater good, focused solely on the “I”, because all that is desired can be purchased, and all you have to do to purchase is work and work and work. No worries if you can never afford a house or college for your kids, you can always open up another credit card and get that fucking home entertainment system you’ve always wanted. Never mind all that mess about creating a more equal and just, benevolent and free society, the iPhone 8 is released in two weeks and, baby, it’s mine.