10 Things Every American Should Know in the 21st Century

The Aspen Institute’s Citizenship & American Identity Program is focused in part on the idea that a shared project like nation should have a shared set of cultural signs and ideas that everyone knows (but not necessarily approves of) so that we can talk better amongst ourselves. As this is the internet, they have also done up a fun little Buzzfeed quiz thingy so you can contribute your own list and put it towards, I assume, a broader consensus list. And, again, as this is the internet, what seems like it might take seconds off of your life takes far larger cuts. They also might be deeper: the exercise appears to me to be far more civically rewarding and purposeful than watching any miserable debate, and, in keeping with the listening part of democracy that is a little quiet these days, you just might learn and teach in equal parts.

I’ll show you mine in the hope that you’ll show me yours––

  1. Monopoly
  2. John Muir
  3. The Trail of Tears
  4. Vietnam War
  5. Walt Whitman
  6. The dustbowl
  7. Drunk Driving
  8. The Scopes Trial
  9. The Hollywood Blockbuster
  10. The Weekend

I was torn between Springsteen’s Glory Days and The Weekend, but since the time between Friday and Sunday is an American figment — and institution––and the latter is a song about it, I went with the thing itself. Still, I do miss Springsteen’s particular mixture of remorse and our nationally mandated optimism. Is it unamerican to refuse to believe our best days are both ahead of us and back in high school? The Car and Highway fit in here: we are free but the roads can look very similar at times. That goes for the shops and houses too.

Drunk driving is included because the number of Americans who die — and kill others — in the pursuit of happiness far outweighs gun deaths and is one of many signs of a particular attitude about how exceptional we are (See: every Hollywood Blockbuster). More than half of Americans think of themselves as above average. One drink per hour, and how that applies to everyone but me, is not too dissimilar to the mindset that prevents gun control; of course we can’t trust anyone with a gun, but if I got my hands on one I’d be a national hero. NIMBYism, the Taken films, and the death of the American utopian community all fit in here, as does Charles Bronson, the Wild West, and our belief in individualism. (Bizarrely, one area where our politicians compete to be below average is in who can be most “not a scientist…”)

We were the first nation to bust up the monopoly. Historically, we have alternated between being vigilant and permissible on a rota that spins along with the national mood. We’re not particularly strict in 2015 (See: lobbying). Some broader literacy here would help Joe Sixpack, but I have a fear: perhaps Joe Sixpack already understands returns to capital far too well and tolerates the monopoly because, unfair as it is, he thinks life will be grand when it’s his turn to sit atop it and stomp on someone else’s face for a change. (See: optimism, Fantasy Football, pledging the fraternity, rent.) This isn’t entirely distinct from the tedious, friendship-destroying boardgame of the same name, invented as a criticism of croneyism, now something of a How To guide for ages 6-and-up.

The Vietnam War could easily be Spanish American or CIA in Latin America. The point is we’re not always the goodie. Sometimes, we’re both the baddie and the loser. An argument is often made that this is for a greater good. Time consistenly shows how flimsy that is. And yet sometimes we are meddlesome in a great way; while we might not clean up at the World Cup, we should do so at FIFA.

The Trail of Tears is about how there are some things you can’t apologise for, and yet how an effort should be made — and somehow isn’t.

The Scopes Trial because the Bible — profound, moving, comforting, and instructive as it is for many — is not to be read literally and yet some of us are awfully keen on doing so. (Many of the book’s best bits are parables, which are specifically designed to be metaphorical.) We are, to our continuing discredit, often equally literal-minded with the Constitution, especially if it can stop us from having to revise an old opinion. Anyhow, the real reason it made the cut is that Scopes actually lost the trial and then got off on a technicality; this describes our legal system in a nutshell.

John Muir and Walt Whitman hit a similar note but are here together the better to hear it loudly. The land itself is exceptional (Muir) and the people are grand in their daily lives (Whitman). It is also nice to be reminded that there were once rivers and fields in Brooklyn. It will be tragic if we have to open a book to see the Sierras. Both writers say we can give thanks for our great lot any day of the year should we choose to see it. This is one of many reasons why I nix’d Thanksgiving, which I do love but which celebrates taking over generosity in a way, particularly when seen alongside Black Friday, that one hopes isn’t endemic. Whitman is also instructive on how we can contradict ourselves and turn towards greater things because we contain multitudes and, besides, being right all the time is deeply boring. Looking at the land and the folks, I would certainly revise myself: it is hard not to come to feel great optimism.