The harsh economic reality forces millions of Americans to abandon unrestrained consumption – the most important component of the American dream
Adams's Mirage
During the Great Depression of the 1930s, America was in dire straits and, "by contraries," wanted to formulate the ideal of a worthy life. To build, so to speak, a virtual lighthouse that people of all classes, especially the poor, are called upon to row toward strenuously, overcoming the rapids of existence. The New York Times and CBS News conducted another joint public opinion poll. The theme of the survey: how is the American dream perceived in light of the recession? The results somewhat puzzled sociologists. 72% of respondents continue to believe in the reality of rising from rags to riches, and as is known, achieving wealth and career success remains the classic definition of the American dream. 44% believe they have realized this dream, and 31% hope to do so. 20% have abandoned such attempts.
The experts who conducted the study did not expect that such a large number of respondents (44%) remained in the camp of optimists. After all, objective reality – the mortgage crisis (mortgage in the US refers to a home loan), rising unemployment and economic stagnation – logically should have reduced the number of dreamers to a minimum.
"In hard times, people desperately cling to utopias and myths," explains the paradox Barry Glassner, professor of sociology at the University of Southern California. "Moreover, many have a jumble in their heads, vague and unclear notions. They use the same words, but put very different meanings into them. More and more people understand that talking about equal opportunities for everyone to become president or billionaire is complete nonsense."
Notably, fewer and fewer people associate the realization of the dream with material well-being, and more often speak of it as a kind of abstraction, a hypothetical chance of success. Adams's lighthouse is like a mirage in the desert, treacherously receding as the traveler approaches it.
Did You Order a Hearse?
Although the formula "my home is my castle" was invented by the English, it was in the United States that it was brought to life on a mass scale. Two-thirds of Americans still live in their various one- or two-story castles. Private homeownership is the cornerstone of the American dream. But under the pressure of the financial crisis, castles are increasingly waving the white flag.
This is best known not even by bankers and realtors, but by burly guys in yellow and white trucks. Movers, as they are called in English, are called by homeowners to relocate their belongings to a new place of residence. The Philadelphia Daily News recently described the everyday life of "movers," who nowadays are forced to radically change their specialization.
If earlier the basis of their business was the transportation of belongings of well-off families moving from one place of residence to another, to a better house or apartment, today "movers" are primarily called by authorities or banks to clear a confiscated house of the trash and debris left by former owners.
As reported by Alan Jenkins, head of the transportation company A Pioneer Moving, which serves the northern areas of Philadelphia, regular moving business has decreased by 50% over the past two years. "Houses are not selling, and people are not moving," Jenkins laments. "We laid off six office workers and four drivers, sold two trucks. We haven't seen profits for the last two years. We have become more like agents of a sanitation service working for banks and realtors - it's hard to call us movers."
"Mover" Emanuel Rasper recalls how one of the residents of a house, subject to eviction for non-payment of a mortgage, barricaded himself and started shooting at police. But such cases, of course, are rare. More often, homeowners doomed to further wandering take revenge, so to speak, in small ways. They smash furniture in the house they are leaving, smear feces on walls, leave the water running in the bathroom. Innocent pets also suffer, left to their fate by the evicted owners. Mover Jesse McMillan recalls with horror finding dead cats and dogs in abandoned houses, and once came across a cat locked in a cage in the basement, driven mad by hunger and thirst.
Very Small Business Indeed
In the 1950s, which today Americans perceive as a golden age, it was enough for one family member to work to smoothly fit into the middle class. As a rule, it was the husband, and wives were left with apron, baby formula, and gatherings with equally prosperous housewives at the parish center. The family idyll according to the old German formula of three K's – Küche, Kinder, Kirche (kitchen, children, church) – served as a kind of business card of the American dream. Today there is no trace left of that window-dressing prosperity. Many cannot even believe that once white America was, as in the movies, one continuous Pleasantville.
Today, in the vast majority of American families, both parents work, and often at two or three jobs. Otherwise, it is difficult to make ends meet. When one of the breadwinners loses a job, it often leads to serious consequences.
On my street in the city of Clifton, in northern New Jersey, where both white-collar and blue-collar workers live, everyone's favorite was cheerful and sociable Mitch, who worked as a photographer at an advertising agency. With his girlfriend in an embrace, he often sat on the porch in his spare time, while their baby cooed nearby and a funny little dog ran around like crazy. But when he was suddenly fired, notified by email ("They didn't even call, the bastards!" he fumed), everything went to hell. There was no money to pay the mortgage, quarrels with his girlfriend over money turned into a breakup and separation, the house had to be sold, the dog given to a shelter. And now Mitch lives with his mother in a condominium. He is still lucky – he got a job as a lab assistant in a photo studio for a modest salary.
The collapse of Wall Street giants triggered an inevitable seismic reaction that caused a depression in small business—the main foundation of the American economic establishment. In Charlotte, North Carolina, as in many other cities and towns across the country, the ethnic balance has sharply tilted toward Latinos in recent years. Accordingly, almost all small businesses here now speak Spanish. Immigrants from Central and South America, many of them illegal, have set the tone in city life. It is easier to buy tacos and tortillas here than hamburgers and apple pie. A similar picture, we note, is characteristic of many areas of California, Texas, Florida, and Arizona.
Immigrant Celestino Hernandez opened the first Mexican butcher shop on South Boulevard in Charlotte in 1995. Business took off, and by last year he owned four stores and three bakeries. For his compatriots, Hernandez became a symbol of the American dream, the embodiment of the beautiful idea of a self-made man. But ahead of the recession, he too had to take off his sombrero. Over the past four months, he had to close all his bakeries and shops except one. The reason? A sharp decline in customers. The crisis hit construction and industrial production; people lost their jobs and, consequently, their purchasing power. "We lasted 13 years, 3 months and 15 days," Hernandez sadly states.
Maria Saavedra and her husband Henry Jimenez, natives of Honduras, opened a small restaurant on the same South Boulevard a few years ago, where they sold delicious tortillas with beans and cheese. Mexican ballads trickled from the jukebox, and fellow Latinos watched soccer on TV. Today the restaurant is empty, the jukebox is silent, not a soul at the bar. Only four customers all day. The waitress, Nadine Vasquez, is also sad. Previously, she used to get about $60 in tips a day, but now the catch is poor—just 4 bucks.
If only dreams...
In the event of job loss, about half of Americans are just two paychecks away from financial insolvency—that is, a calendar month. Such a troubling conclusion was reached by experts from the largest insurance company MetLife, who recently prepared the "Study of the American Dream."
While in the past the masses dreamed of a happy family life and homeownership, the main dream of 2009 became financial stability. The crisis dealt a devastating blow to savings, including retirement savings. Nearly 28% of respondents said that if they lost their jobs, they could last only two weeks. 44% believe they could hold out no more than three months. Only 10% expect to last more than a year.
MetLife experts found that even among well-off citizens earning $100,000 or more per year, more than half fear losing their jobs in the next 12 months, and 53% do not rule out personal bankruptcy in the event of dismissal.
The model of a carefree, spendthrift life, when mountains of debt grew and the consumer was immune to everything, has exhausted itself. Harsh economic reality is forcing millions of Americans to abandon unrestrained consumption, and thus the most important component of the American dream. Smith always looked over the fence at Johnson, and if the neighbor bought a plasma TV or a new SUV, he tried to keep up at all costs. Today, both Smith and Johnson have no time for fat: they just want to survive...
"There will be fewer facelifts and brow lifts, less Botox, less dyed hair for women and men," snidely reflects Peggy Noonan, columnist for The Wall Street Journal, former assistant to President Reagan and speechwriter for George H. W. Bush during his election campaign. "We will look more like normal people, like before the race for perfection began."
No wonder people stop sleeping. Literally. Or they sleep but have nightmares on economic topics. Psychologists Mary Bemker and Amy Polus from the School of Metaphysics in Louisville, Kentucky, have taken up interpreting crisis dreams. They advise their patients to focus for ten minutes before sleep and think about the family budget. And then it is quite possible that some useful "eureka" will come into the head embraced by Morpheus, which will help its owner in reality.
A radical option for escaping expensive civilization is described in a recent article in the newspaper USA Today. The family of Patrick and Melissa Wojtowicz lives with their daughter Gabrielle on a farm in Michigan. Under the pressure of the recession, they gave up vacations, restaurants, new clothes, and technological gadgets. They took up raising pigs and chickens, plan to plant an orchard, and heat the house with a primitive stove. The Wojtowiczes disconnected satellite TV and radio, threw out the dishwasher, sold the large SUV, and began buying clothes at thrift stores.
As the newspaper notes, self-reliance is gaining momentum and becoming a noticeable trend. An increasing number of Americans are stocking up on food for a rainy day, buying seeds for vegetables and berries, learning to sew and knit, and mastering home canning. Time to close the jars. In every sense.