The Opportunity To Live Your Best Life Is a Gift
Achieving the American dream with the deck stacked against you is the life of many
Achieving the American Dream is a cautionary tale
One summer evening, my cousin and I stood on my porch. Grief clouded a crystal clear Rand, West Virginia, night sky. His uncle had died that day. It was the first time anyone cried in front of me who was not getting their butt beat. His words have stayed with me these sixty years. Tears streaming down a face looking inwards and upwards, “I want to live the life my uncle lived. Have a good job. Raise kids in a nice house. Drive a nice car. And have people I love around me, always.”
“Not me!” I countered, trying to lighten the mood. “I want to travel. And drive something small, fast, and foreign! And date women who are the same (as my cars).” Which meant, both of us knew, for my dreams to come true, I had to leave Rand.
We were sixteen, living in the days when many were standing up against the Vietnam War, the socio-economic oppression of Black and Brown people, and the growing separation of wealth and poverty. People died, were brutalized, and suffered great humiliation. We knew that! Grassroots movements brought empowerment. We carried ourselves as though we knew how to make our hopes for a better life come true, even when we didn’t know exactly how to make it happen. There were to be casualties among us also.
Life where few live their best life is like seeking joy from a hole
The Philippines is a place I’ve lived in, on and off, over the last fifteen years. It’s a country where profound poverty and culture drive many to find better lives through their relationships with foreigners. So, it was neither unusual nor unexpected that a woman I was seeing asked me to help her start a business, a sari-sari store. Sari-sari stores are a common way people in the Philippines make enough money to support their daily needs (food, mainly). Most fail, though! Which is why they’re also known as cera cera stores, meaning “to close” in Spanish.
My reply, “Go to the library or go online. Learn how to run a business. And I’ll help you!” You would have thought I’d insulted her. “All I need is the capital. Give me the money and I’ll make it work. I’ll pay you back. Don’t worry!” We must have gone back and forth for half an hour. My thinking was only frustrating us both. “With that attitude, you’re going to be poor all of your life!” I said. Yes, she replied, with little affect in her demeanor. Her resolve took me aback. “Why?” I asked. “Because nobody here cares!” she said matter-of-factly.
Her pronouncement was spot on, I knew that. Her life is encased within a caste system where it’s easy to judge others by their choices, their limited education, and their habits. That lets those who steal dreams and leave little room for hope off the hook. It’s a sad reality in a country where many work extremely hard, yet their labor often yields no hope for a better life.
Meritocracies have become gatekeepers
Neither my parents nor I had any idea how I would go to college, even though my grades and class rank were in the top ten percent and my ACT scores were wonderful. I was a child of Appalachia, attending a high school not known for producing the “cream” that James B. Conant, Harvard’s president (1933 to 1953), and his Ivy League colleagues envisioned for American education.
They championed standardized aptitude testing (like the SAT and ACT) and K-12 student tracking to identify the best and brightest students from all socioeconomic backgrounds. Their goal was to reestablish a meritocracy, preparing students for elite college admissions and leadership positions. Their experiment failed those who were not groomed for academic success, as the wealthy were able to do for their children and a few others.
So, there I was, along with my parents, ready for my high school senior year, paralyzed, at the intersection of race, hope, and dreams by the absence of preparation. Mine was a life incomplete, without the skills to make aspirational decisions. I was the person depicted by Langston Hughes’ epic poem Dream Deferred - ready to ripen, though never having been nurtured, pruned, or given direction. Were it not for the Upward Bound program and financial aid, my hopes and dreams would have “festered like a sore.”
Having hopes and making dreams come true should not be taken for granted
The bold promise, from Emma Lazarus’ The New Colossus poem, carved into the base of the Statue of Liberty, “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…” did not apply to all. After genocide, land incarceration, and enslavement came structural disparities that made the hopes and dreams of Indigenous peoples and the progeny of those enslaved more gauntlet than affirmation.
Still, amazingly so, Black people have been steadfast in their belief in the American Dream. Through the Three-Fifths Compromise (1787), Reconstruction (1867–1868), Jim Crow Laws (late 19th to the mid 20th century), and now renewed assaults on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, most Black people faithfully believe they can live their best life in America. Even as dream stealers and dream killers have occupied the highest offices in the land, we have found the courage and perseverance to fight for equal opportunities.
Reagan stole hopes, dreams, and the lives of millions. His assault on equal opportunity programs, student financial aid, public education, public health, the FDA, the EPA, and labor unions is responsible for the country’s mental health crisis, out-of-control college costs, stratospheric student loan indebtedness, the opioid crisis, fossil fuel retrenchment, the near collapse of the country’s economy, and more.
Clinton did also. His welfare reform policies took away needed support for single mothers and child care. His Crime Bill (1994) created incentives for the expansion and bloating of the criminal justice system. Both served as an assault on U.S. families, particularly Black and Brown, destroying the lives of many.
As if self-inflicted wounds were not enough, September 11, 2001, made the country face its vulnerabilities. Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath (2005) further split the country’s racial divisions. And the near collapse of the economy (beginning in 2007) brought many with the means to turn dreams into reality, the stress and trauma of despair sweeping the country.
No wonder Pastor Rick Warren’s The Purpose Driven Life (2002) sold over 30 million copies. The country, if not the world, needed to breathe again, to define or redefine what living our best life meant. In 2008, President Obama’s boisterous “Yes We Can” campaign rally chant answered Pastor Warren’s call, seemingly. His campaign found many who desperately wanted to believe in democracy’s dream. The prospect of hope propelled him to two terms as president.
For others, however, the rise in dreams and the increasing diversity of dreamers urgently demanded societal deconstruction and transformation. Dream stealing and dream killing are at the heart of Project 2025, their plan for the Make America Great Again movement, and Trump’s presidency.
Al fin: Lest we not forget
Dreams of living our best lives do not become reality unless we’re prepared to overcome the obstacles others put in our paths. Because, as we know, living in a place where few dream is like trying to find joy in a hole where nobody cares. Let us not take opportunities to live our best lives for granted. They’re worth fighting for!
