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The American Dreams

A wide and winding survey of what it means to 'make it' here in the US of A

Pinball
(Image courtesy of alpgraphic13deviantartclass)

In his song “Empire State of Mind,” hiphop artist Jay-Z tells the world he’s made it by singing, “Yeah, I’m out that Brooklyn, now I’m down in Tribeca, right next to De Niro, but I’ll be hood forever.” If there was any doubt about the former street hustler’s roots-in-tow pivot to prosperity, he continues, “… since I made it here, I can make it anywhere.” Making it despite adversity is a core theme for many artists here in these United States of Ambition. Isn’t that the American Dream? When Jay-Z’s late NYC collaborator, The Notorious B.I.G., rapped, “Don’t let ’em hold you down, reach for the stars” and that he took his life “from negative to positive,” he is one strand in a long American thread of rags-to-riches storylines reaching back to well before Horatio Alger Jr.’s novels popularized them. Whether it’s Eminem proclaiming “I’m the American Dream” or F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Gatsby reaching out across the dark water toward the green light, virtually every American cultural icon has explored it. If the American Dream were a silly fantasy, our best writers, poets, and musicians would pay it no mind. It is either America itself or in its source code.

Like most dreams, the American Dream is a yearning, a seeking, a striving somewhere over the rainbow. Dreams are difficult to define, and the American Dream is no exception. It has developed over time, a web of connected ideas frequently critiqued and challenged and evolving in meaning. According to 2017 survey data from the Pew Research Center, 30 percent of Americans feel they have achieved the American Dream, another 37 percent feel they are on their way to attaining it, and 31 percent feel it is out of reach.

To the extent that Americans believe in an American Dream today, they are defining it less in material terms and more as self-actualization, as having and the opportunity to build and live their best life — however they define it. The American Dream is shifting from the unitary economic dream of industrial, post-World War II America to plural and experiential.

According to a 2021 AP-NORC (previously, the National Opinion Research Center) survey, 45 percent of Americans said that “the ability of people living here to get good jobs and achieve the American Dream” was extremely important to our identity as a nation, and another 38 percent said it was very important. Indeed, a literal definition of the American Dream (Merriam-Webster’s) pegs it as “a happy way of living that is thought of by many Americans as something that can be achieved by anyone in the U.S., especially by working hard and becoming successful.” 

Langston Hughes
(Image courtesy of James L. Allen)

Of course, as much as we have strived for a meritocracy, it has only ever been a rough one. Has the American Dream been equally accessible to Black people, to women, to gay Americans, to Native Americans, to Jews, to bluecollar whites? No. The opportunity has never been equal; some have had more obstacles than others, delaying their ascent. It’s like what Langston Hughes, yet another New York poet, wrote in “Dream Boogie”: "Good morning, daddy! / Ain’t you heard / The boogiewoogie rumble / Of a dream deferred?”

The term itself has several implicit assumptions. Consider that the “American Dream” assumes a singular dream, that it is geographically distinct to America, that it is a vision, and that this vision is inherently good. The term assumes that we are allowed to dream and not have our dreams dashed. It assumes that it can be achieved, somehow, through grind and hustle. It is inherently optimistic. It assumes that this dream should be accessible to all Americans.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. put his finger directly on the universal nature of the American Dream when he wrote in “Letter from Birmingham Jail” that “when these disinherited children of God sat down at lunch counters, they were in reality standing up for what is best in the American dream.” Dreams have their own power. Dr. King knew this; his most famous speech is based on one.

The story of the “American Dream” begins officially in 1931 Depression-era America, when writer James Truslow Adams referenced it in his book Epic of America. (Would you be surprised at this point to find out he was born in Brooklyn?) Adams was explicit in defining it well beyond wealth accumulation:

…there has been also the American dream, that dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for every man, with opportunity for each according to his ability or achievement. It is a difficult dream for the European upper classes to interpret adequately, and too many of us ourselves have grown weary and mistrustful of it. It is not a dream of motor cars and high wages merely, but a dream of social order in which each man and each woman shall be able to attain to the fullest stature of which they are innately capable, and be recognized by others for what they are, regardless of the fortuitous circumstances of birth or position.

Despite an early focus on egalitarianism and merit, the American Dream has often been associated with wealth creation — Adams’ “motor cars and high wages,” materialism, excess, and greed. In fact, many people shorthand the American Dream with symbols of prosperity: a single-family home with the proverbial white picket fence, a car, some savings, and enough for a family vacation.

Hank Jr.
      (Image courtesy of Jjssttzzaa)

The paradox is that as our economy generated more wealth for a larger swath of Americans, our greatest artists became skeptical of our pursuit of plenty. This is especially true from the Roaring ’20s and into the postwar boom when Sinclair Lewis, F. Scott Fitzgerald, John Steinbeck, Arthur Miller, Hunter S. Thompson, and many others explored fruitless or corrupted versions of the American Dream.

These writers did not develop their critique in a vacuum. Many Americans have wrestled with the twin questions of whether the American Dream is achievable and if it is worth the sacrifice. As Hank Williams Jr. (not from New York) famously sang in “The American Dream”: “Do we really want it, do you really need it? You gotta keep on grindin’ just to try to keep it.” We know the grind. In a 2021 Ipsos survey, 40 percent of American workers agreed with the statement “I worry that if I take too much personal time off from work, I will not be seen as a hard worker.” 

A Collective Dream Falls by Its Bootstraps

Polling suggests a relatively steep decline in belief in the American Dream. ABC News polls from September 2010 and January 2024 plot the descent. In 2010, 4 percent of Americans said the American Dream never held true, 50 percent said it was still true, and 43 percent said it once held true but doesn’t anymore. By 2024, the same question found that 18 percent believed the American Dream never held true, 27 percent believed it still held true, and 52 percent believed it once held true but does not today. Even more concerning, the drop was the steepest among the young, those 18 to 29, the cohort traditionally most optimistic about the future. This survey data is not an outlier. An October 2023 survey conducted by the Wall Street Journal and NORC had similar results when defining the American Dream as “if you work hard, you’ll get ahead.” Eighteen percent said the American Dream never held true, 36 percent said it still holds true, and 45 percent said it once held true but not anymore. In a related finding, 50 percent agreed with the statement that “the economic and political systems in the country are stacked against people like me.”

Collective belief in an American Dream used to be a cultural and political unifier. That is no longer the case, and this decline explains so much about the historic collapse of trust in institutions as well as the state of our contemporary politics. America’s elites may console themselves in their echo chambers, cocooned in advanced degrees, but our collective intelligence has already delivered its verdict.

In the Game of Life, first published in 1960, players are set on one circuit, with a few pre-determined detours. But younger Americans want to play a new game of life.

As dire as this is, it is also important to note the apparent counterfactual: Belief in the American Dream may be declining among native-born Americans, but that is not true for immigrants. There are 46.2 million immigrants living in the U.S., more than the entire population of Canada. Another 4.7 million approved immigration applicants are waiting for green cards. And in 2022, 1 million immigrants became lawful permanent residents. This is an enormous vote of confidence in the American Dream. People do not go through the immigration process, wait, leave their home countries, and come here expecting less opportunity.

Moreover, our largest immigrant community, Latinos, appears to have a much more optimistic view of the American Dream. An Axios-Ipsos poll conducted in March 2022 found that 61 percent of Latinos believe they can live the American Dream. When the survey asked about the most important factor for success in America, 94 percent said, “a strong work ethic and working hard.” And a 2024 survey by Telemundo found that 53 percent of Hispanic adults agreed with the statement “I believe I can live the American Dream.” Only 21 percent disagreed.

Dreams Diverge With Demographics

In Savannah, Ga., not too far from historical Forsyth Park, the city’s largest and oldest, one can find a gray electrical box next to a row of nine electricity meters with graffiti scrawled on it in Sharpie: “F*** the system.” Street art vividly illustrates the state of the American Dream. To paraphrase singer-songwriter Paul Simon (New Jerseyborn, “made it” in New York City), the words of prophets are written on city walls. Farther south, on Miami’s Calle Ocho near the famous Ball & Chain nightclub, one can also find a mural proclaiming Colombian singer Karol G’s album and inspiring mantra, Mañana Será Bonito — “Tomorrow Will Be Beautiful.” When it comes to the American Dream, there is frustration and hope.

The data we have present a fact pattern of the American Dream as an idea in decline. But could it be that younger Americans, frustrated with the current American Dream, are reimagining a new dream for a new century?

In 2023, the American University’s Sine Institute of Policy & Politics surveyed 1,568 Americans ages 18 to 34 to understand how younger people are redefining the American Dream. What the institute discovered gives us clues to the 21st-century version. Importantly, they found that 87 percent agreed with the statement “There is no one American Dream; instead, the American Dream can and should look different for each individual.” The American Dream is moving from singular to plural. This makes perfect sense when we consider that America has moved from an industrial society built on mass production and mass media to a post-industrial society with customized production, the long tail of digital commerce, and niche media. The unity of a mass market has been replaced by highly customized production. It should not surprise us that the American Dream has followed suit.

Times change. In American University’s research, 83 percent agreed with the statement “The American Dream means something very different to me than it did to my parents and 81 percent it was a source of great stress, and 70 older generations.” Younger Americans are optimistic that they can achieve their own dreams. In the survey, 74 percent agreed with the statement “I have a good chance of achieving what I consider the American Dream for myself.” And 62 percent felt they would have a better life than their parents.

How are younger Americans defining their American Dream? Fortunately, American University asked them, so we know with mathematic precision. The three most highly rated responses centered on happiness, freedom, and connection:

87 percent said “feeling personally happy and fulfilled" was either absolutely essential or very important to their American Dream.

87 percent said “Freedom to make life decisions: Where to live and what kind of job you have" was either absolutely essential or very important to their American Dream.

82 percent said “close and meaningful relationships" were either absolutely essential or very important to their American Dream.

After the top three, all of which were non-material, younger Americans reverted to the classic, material definition of their American Dream:

81 percent said "financial success" was absolutely essential or very important.

73 percent said "owning your own home" was absolutely essential or very important.

72 percent said "getting a good education" was absolutely essential or very important.

What younger Americans didn’t rate as essential to their American Dream is also important, possibly more so. Only 56 percent rated “having a family/children” as either absolutely essential (28 percent) or very important (28 percent). Next down the list was marriage, with only 51 percent rating it as either absolutely essential (27 percent) or very important (24 percent). And at the bottom was patriotism, with only 42 percent saying “feeling patriotic and proud to be an American” was either absolutely essential (21 percent) or very important  (21 percent) to their American Dream. While 21st-century American Dreams are likely to be defined by the pursuit of happiness, personal freedom, and connection, marriage, family, children, and patriotism are less common. We are already seeing this in terms of record-low birth rates.

For younger Americans, the individualized pursuit of happiness is paramount. Unfortunately, happiness might feel elusive to many of them. The pandemic was a source of great stress, and 70 percent agreed with the statement “The experience of Covid and living through the pandemic changed my goals for the future and what I consider important in my vision of the American Dream.” Additionally, after “lack of money and financial resources,” younger Americans rated “mental health challenges, including emotions such as hopelessness and anxiety” as holding them back from their American Dream. Notably, these mental health concerns were cited by a majority of younger women, supporting a range of other data points on the mental health struggles of Millennials and Gen Z. For example, the 988 mental health crisis line has seen staggering increases post-Covid, serving nearly 5 million contacts in 2023. Moreover, a Kaiser Family Foundation survey in 2022 found that 90 percent of Americans believe there is a mental health crisis today. The same research also discovered that adults ages 18 to 29 were most likely to report mental health concerns and report that they are seeking mental health services. In fact, three in 10 adults under 30 responded that they had received mental health services in the past 12 months. It will take us many years to fully understand the impact of the pandemic on our collective psyche. But, like the mural in Little Havana, there is hope that tomorrow will be beautiful. 

Making Our Own Way in the Game of Life

Everyone knows the song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” sung by Judy Garland for the 1939 hit movie The Wizard of Oz. At least they think they know the song. But what they don’t know is that the movie version omits the song’s dark beginning, which moves from desperation to hope:

When all the world is a hopeless jumble / And the raindrops tumble all around, heaven opens a magic lane / When all the clouds darken up the skyway / There’s a rainbow highway to be found, leading from your window pane / To a place behind the sun, just a step beyond the rain

Dorothy
(Image courtesy of Alamy.com)

Written during the Great Depression and with war clouds darkening, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” was the last song written for The Wizard of Oz. Composer Harold Arlen was under pressure to write it, and it came to him while his wife was driving them down Los Angeles’ Sunset Boulevard. She pulled the car over so he could write it down on paper. Heaven opened a magic lane for Arlen, and the rest is history. (Arlen: born in Buffalo, laid to rest in New York City.)

Americans have always been looking for that rainbow highway. In a 2021 Ipsos survey, an astounding 47 percent reported living “within a half mile or less of a major highway or interstate.” The highway is our reality and our dream path. That same study by American University asked younger Americans to rate a diverse array of pictures by how much they associated each with their American Dream. The picture most associated with their American Dream was a stylized, ascending highway with the overpass sign reading, “Make your own path.” This is a deep insight into our future American Dreams. In many ways, younger Americans are making their own path. They’re seeking more flexible work, creating microbusinesses and side hustles, and launching their own media channels on YouTube and social networks.

Life
     (Image courtesy of Brett Streutker)

Author E.B. White was born in Westchester County, N.Y., a borough above the Bronx, and is buried at the historically preserved farm that inspired Charlotte’s Web in — this can’t be right — Brooklin [sic] … Maine. White famously wrote, “Everywhere you want to be is somewhere else, and you get there in a car.” The car, the highway, and the open road have been metaphors for America for the past 100 years. Could it be that younger Americans are embracing this metaphor for their American Dreams, where they are the driver, the road is open, they can choose their destination, speed, and the detours they want to take? Millennials and Gen Z might be harkening back to Euripides’ observation that “the wisest men follow their own direction and listen to no prophet guiding them.”

Consider the popular American board game The Game of Life, first published in 1960. In the game, each player rolls their dice, races their car down the highway of life, and adds a spouse and children as passengers. They acquire education, houses, careers, and money, hopeful they can hit the finish line in “Millionaire Acres.” The game is set on one circuit, with a few predetermined detours. Americans played that game. But younger Americans want to play a new game of life.

The Game of Life circa 1960 was the American Dream of yore: a singular vision of progress, unidirectional in movement, and emphasizing wealth creation. But that vision is evolving from one national dream to millions of individualized dreamscapes. What’s your dream?

Pinball
(Image courtesy of Adobe Stock)

 

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ROBERT MORAN

ROBERT MORAN is a futurist, management consultant, and pollster. He writes and speaks on future-forward issues and has appeared on most television networks, including the BBC, Fox Business News, and Al Jazeera. He began his career in political consulting and polling.

Southwest by South Florida Mensa  I  Life Member