Down the Rabbit Hole: Grappling with Vanishing Aspirations
Twilight of the American Dream?
Musical Background:
Max Roach - Freedom Day, featuring Clifford Jordan and Abbey Lincoln
A mere three days before I entered the world on August 1, 1949, my mother endured a car crash leading to Placenta Previa. Sounds like a fancy Italian dish, right? No, it just means my entrance was more "operatic" than most – I made my debut via C-section at Hartford Hospital. A lifesaving intervention without which I wouldn't be writing this.
My parents, who braved the challenges of the Depression and World War II were initially inhabitants of Hartford's Jewish ghetto in Connecticut. After the war, World War 2 veterans Frank and Lenore Primack married and moved to suburban West Hartford. We lived in what was dubbed “The Reservation,” known for its many streets with Native American names and largely Jewish population. There were many synagogues near our split level but we never joined, remaining cosmic freelancers in the spiritual marketplace. Mom believed you shouldn’t have to swipe your credit card to chat with the Almighty.
Education was the holy grail in the bagel-and-lox tribe I was born into. Postwar prosperity in America was redirected into educational institutions, a move necessitated by the surge of the baby boom generation. This emphasis bore fruit; my peers ascended to roles as medical professionals, educators, legal practitioners, and entrepreneurs.
Our ancestral baggage was “the old country,” a place elders were reluctant to discuss. My grandparents were from Ukraine, Saint Petersburg and Kyiv, arriving in Hartford in 1920. My mother’s ancestors were musicians in the Czar’s Orchestra; the Primacks were tailors. Why America? Because most Eastern European Jews were on the run from Cossacks and pogroms in places where they couldn’t practice their own faith without repression.
It is important to note that not all Jews from Eastern Europe left for the same reasons, but every immigrant parent comes to America because they want their children to live in a more tolerant and welcoming society. And to be successful.
In the twisted veins of the American dream, there's a story, that of the Jewish migrant. America was their desperate gasp for survival. The fire to escape poverty and bigotry fueled their unstoppable drive.
Education was their war cry, knowledge their ammunition. They drilled it into our young baby boomer skulls, making us ready for the New World. For my wisdom-fueled generation, the world was full of opportunities to grab by the horns. No wonder so many of us became successful.
Many Jewish immigrants had seen firsthand the horrors of the Holocaust, and they were determined to build a better life for themselves and their families in America. This sense of urgency and determination drove many Jewish immigrants to succeed in their new home.
Historical chains had molded the Jews into fierce entrepreneurs. Centuries of exclusion made them crafty. Trading, hustling, dealing—these were legacy skills, sharpened over lifetimes and passed down like heirlooms.
We were, and are, survivors. The American landscape is tattooed with our stories, battles, and triumphs. It's a testament to the human spirit, tenacity, and the wild, beautiful madness of the American promise.
Clearly, the American Dream was the headline act of my youth, the main attraction in Uncle Sam's grand circus, lit up in Technicolor by Hollywood and beamed straight into every living room TV. It didn’t matter who you were or where you crawled out from, you could always claw your way to the top. Just put in the sweat, toss in a bit of elbow grease and a sprinkle of your own brand of magic and voilà, you're in the club. Your education was the icing on the cake, another brick in the wall of respectability. Could Country Club membership be far behind?
West Hartford, where I spent my formative years, was driven by success. The old idea of rising from nothing was alive in the 50s and 60s, the rags-to-riches, pull-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps spiel, fueled by the ghosts of opportunities past and the towering myths of social climb.
Today, the American Dream is getting grilled, fried, and put on trial like never before. Even though many Jews succeeded, a circus of financial booby traps and societal roadblocks turned the Dream into a mirage, an illusion in a desert of modern complexities. The Dream is on life support now, for many, just another pack of lies.
George Carlin, the sage in a jester's hat, once laid it out bare: “There’s just one thing about The American Dream—you gotta be asleep to believe it.”
Yes, the American Dream was gospel, hallelujah. After all, we won the war, didn’t we? We deserved everything we worked for. We were living in the greatest nation on the face of the earth.
But probe beneath the surface and what emerges? A capitalist narrative designed to pacify the public, gears turning smoothly in a machine built on oblivious contentment, social competition and conformity. The societal structure remained intact and many harbored the illusion that they were a mere stroke of luck away from success. Yet, for the majority, that lucky break never came. It was only a matter of time before they would turn against the system.
The inability to achieve the American dream, and the fear that caucasians are losing their long held majority, this is what is fueling the Maga movement today.
The American Dream was a fairy tale for suckers. It's a carrot on a stick, dangling just out of reach, to keep us chasing our tails. Despite immigrant hopes and dreams, they have and continue to face repression and discrimination, which is now alive and well in the United States.
We're all just cogs in a Capitalist machine, working ourselves to the bone for a chance at a dream that's never going to come true. So why do we keep chasing it? Because we're fools. We're desperate. We've been brainwashed into believing that the American Dream is the only thing worth striving for.
It would appear that the challenges and prejudice Jews encountered in Eastern Europe are now evident in the very place they once believed held such great potential. As I write, Israel itself is under attack and incidents of anti-Semitic violence and vandalism in the U.S., indicate an marked increase in such incidents.
The reasons for the rise of hatred in America are multifaceted and include political polarization, the spread of extremist ideologies, and the influence of social media in amplifying hate speech.
Note: As a write this, four days after the latest Jewish massacre, I must report that while I am sad and trying to cope, I am disgusted. I am angry with a world that has allowed the dehumanization of Israelis and sanitized the terrorism of Hamas. And I am angry with Benjamin Netanyahu, the Trump of Israel, who has demonized ordinary Palestinians and made a two state solution impossible. Not all Palestinians are terrorists. Most are not. Just like not all Americans are racist, anti-Semitic MAGA Republicans, although there are literally tens of millions of these cult members poisoning democracy. Hamas, the people who carried out this massacre, beheading babies and children are not fighters. They are terrorists. They are barbarians.