Huddled Masses Yearning To Be Free

On the statue of liberty, there is a poem by Emma Lazarus called "The New Colossus" which is engraved on the pedestal. If you really need to know exactly what the entire poem says, feel free to read it here. My favorite part is the last bit,

"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she

With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

It could easily be argued that this embodies the American dream-- the grandiose statue, the symbolism of it all. As a child of immigrants myself, I can say that all of my relatives that still live abroad truly see America almost as a utopia-- a place where everyone goes to college, the streets are clean, families live together in nice, quiet suburban houses, parks abound on every corner. Having been raised in this mentality for almost my entire life, it was a bit of a shock as I grew older to realize that the fantasy maybe wasn't the most accurate description of real life. College was widespread, but it was still expensive, and because of the expense, limited to pretty much only the upper-middle/upper class. Graduating in 2008, I had a front row seat to see our country's financial system implode on itself, and the harsh consequences of that on my peers as they struggled to find (and keep) jobs that would justify their heavy investment in education. Luckily, I was able to find a job at a consulting firm, but also quickly realized that hard work would get you 60-70% there, but it was undeniable that those who "were personable" definitely got ahead faster.

Despite everything though, I do still believe that America is the land of opportunity. Sure, college was expensive and my family couldn't afford it, but Notre Dame took a chance on me. I don't think I'm a genius, but I'm currently working with some of the smartest people I've met at my firm. My friends have the luxury of following their dreams, their passions and their hearts in all sorts of industries-- whether it be education, consulting, manufacturing, marketing, whatever! That's why I'm feeling a little bit down this week after I've read a couple articles that are sounding the alarm on the death of the American ideal.

In Esquire, they ran an article entitled "American Class System-- We Are Not All Created Equal". They claim that "The majority of college grads in the United States today are either unemployed or working jobs that don't require a degree. Roughly 80% of them moved back home in 2011, where they sit on an average debt of $27,200. The youth unemployment rate in general is 18.1%....Both [Tea Partiers and Occupiers] are really mourning the arrival of a new social order, one not defined by opportunity but by the preexisting structures of wealth. At least the ranters are mourning. Those who are not screaming or in drum circles mostly pretend that the change isn't happening". It was really this last sentence that struck me. Was I one of these people? Was I simply pretending that this change-- this terrible, corrupt and stuttering demise was simply not happening? Was I living in denial and being insulated against the harsher truths by the many layers of comfort that I am grateful for--my job, my stability, my education? Similar to the feeling that you get when you leave the house, knowing that you've forgotten something, so began my nagging worry. How had I--a fairly well-educated and under the impression of being well-informed-- become so out of touch?

A week later, The New York Times featured "Is the U.S. Still a 'Land of Opportunity'?" question in their Room for Debate. Needless to say, this was like tempting a dieter with cake. Instant click. Expand all. Read thoroughly. All debaters had good points-- good points claiming the fall of the American dream. They all agreed that, while once great, the U.S. had really become an entire system dedicated to making the rich richer and the poor miserable. The finger pointing began...Look at the economic mobility score (but how do we define economic mobility? Isn't ability to increase wage compared to the parental generation a bit outdated? How does that integrate the impact of inflation?)! Look at the levels of education! The quality of jobs! And why? Well, there is a great disparity in the investment we make (as a country) in education, there are cultural reasons, there are parenting problems! How much time do you have? There's more.

Although all of these articles were heavy on the criticism and light on the tangible solutions, it again spun me into a tizzy of doubt. Perhaps it was just the Catholic college in me, but I couldn't shake the idea of, Well, isn't that what I'm here for? Sure... the economy is not great right now, and it can't be denied that there is a growing disparity in the classes, but isn't that why we're creating a new generation of well-informed, more globally interconnected youngsters (like myself)? And this is where my thinking took a turn.

Maybe I just like a challenge. But as a first generation-er, I refuse to accept that the American dream is decrepit and dying. For every single metric that says that class hierarchy is here to stay, there are people out there that are trying to bring equality to emerging economies and opportunities to previously under-served communities. These emerging economies and communities are in New York and they're in Nigeria-- yes, we're no longer focusing solely on our national well-being, but isn't that a critical characteristic of the new generation? Aren't we encouraged now to focus on our micro-communities? To start at a grassroots level and attack this problem from the top and the bottom? My gut says yes, as I see universities and business schools forming whole programs dedicated to social innovation and corporate social responsibility. I don't know about everyone else. I may not be screaming or participating in any drum circles (none related to social inequality anyway), but I'm not ignorant of the problems we're facing as a society. But I'm also not giving up.