My hometown occupies the very northwestern corner of Connecticut, with Massachusetts to our immediate north and New York to our immediate west. It is surrounded by steep, green hills and filled with rivers and lakes. With all of the recent political rhetoric about “real Americans” and the media emphasis on blue versus red states, those of us who call this hard-to-get-to and harder-to-leave slice of America home defy easy pigeon-holing.
The town, according to its 2007 Annual Report (which all Connecticut towns submit to the state government each year), consists of 60.65 square miles or 38,761 acres and it encompasses 2 villages and 3 hamlets. Of the total population of approximately 4,100 people, as of September 2007 there were 1179 unaffiliated registered voters, 706 registered republicans, 970 registered democrats, 6 voters registered with the Independence Party, and 2 voters registered as Socialists. There are equal numbers of farmers and second home owners here, and many fascinating retirees who enrich the intellectual and cultural life of town. The “business district”, such as it is, is bounded by a Congregational church on one end and the Episcopalian church on the other (with other denominations not far away), there’s a graceful old inn on the green, and soldiers from conflicts dating all the way back to the French and Indian War (a/k/a the Seven Years’ War) are buried in the cemetery behind town hall. We have not one, not two, but three highly reputable private preparatory schools in town along with the excellent regional public school district. We’re not without our social tensions, we have our share of hardship and poverty, and we definitely are not immune to the other ills of society. As far as I know Jimmy Stewart does not operate a Savings and Loan here, but you get the picture. Many families over the past 350 years have staked out their piece of the American dream here – some have made it and many haven’t, but all have a pride of place and of their association with it.
I have just spent four months on the far side of the world during the most vigorous portion of the now-completed political campaigns, literally as far from home as one can get without leaving the planet. Whether in spite of or as a result of that great distance, and coupled with the events and conditions affecting our nation at home and abroad, I have felt moved by the current election in ways both cerebral and emotional to an extent I have never before experienced. Certainly, the frequent and sincere queries from Kiwis and others looking for some insight into our national consciousness and our political process kept events in the forefront of my mind and required that I be able to articulate my own views to others, with all the requisite careful consideration. Imagine a casual, polite dinner conversation where I am asked to explain the Electoral College, the role of US monetary policy on the world economy, the defining events in the lives of the Presidential candidates, why Texas is so different from New England, and what’s so important about Brett Favre playing for the Jets and you get the idea.
One particular comment from an older friend in Wanaka struck an interesting chord with me, one which has been on my mind quite a bit as the second Tuesday in November has approached. My friend is classic Kiwi: he’s an octogenarian, fit and mentally sharp, a retired and quite brilliant psychiatrist who immigrated to New Zealand from Scotland with his young family in the 1960’s. His comment to me (which clearly struck a nerve) was that the American Dream is really just a fantasy, noting that he’s “an expert on fantasies”. The problem is that my friend, like so many British, doesn’t get it. A fantasy, as he considered it, is not grounded in reality. In America, because we have and continue to create our own reality, we are free to dream of a nation and a world which may seem far-fetched, which may seem beyond our reach, but towards which we can dedicate ourselves, our resources, our efforts and our hopes – “our sacred honor”, as it were.
As Americans we are aware that the American Dream is a representation of our aspirations as individuals and as a community. We understand that there will always be a gap – sometimes large and, hopefully, sometimes small – between our abstraction of America the dream and the reality of America the nation. My friend failed to grasp that the dream was born of the confluence of the flowering of the liberal concepts of the great enlightenment philosophers, the antithetical relationship of their philosophies and an oppressive colonial power, and the destiny of a people empowered by their own natural inclination towards self-expression and self-betterment. Our “inalienable rights” arose out of the ether and took root in each and all of us. Believe me, I’ve seen the soil in New England up close and anything which is going to take root here and flower for generations had better be stubborn.
My intention is not to preach about how right we are, nor is it my intention to lecture on the merits or nature of the American Dream. My intention is to take a moment on the night before Election Day, at a time when our concepts of who were are as Americans and our goals for our country and its place in the world find challenges at every turn, to consider the essentials. There are many attributes we share with people on the other side of the world and I am blessed to consider so many of them my friends. They have and continue to enrich my life. Still, there is no place I’d rather be on Election Day than in my home town, among my own people – farmers, teachers, doctors, retires, and even ski instructors - considering our common aspirations and our differing opinions over a cup of coffee and a ballot box.
The town, according to its 2007 Annual Report (which all Connecticut towns submit to the state government each year), consists of 60.65 square miles or 38,761 acres and it encompasses 2 villages and 3 hamlets. Of the total population of approximately 4,100 people, as of September 2007 there were 1179 unaffiliated registered voters, 706 registered republicans, 970 registered democrats, 6 voters registered with the Independence Party, and 2 voters registered as Socialists. There are equal numbers of farmers and second home owners here, and many fascinating retirees who enrich the intellectual and cultural life of town. The “business district”, such as it is, is bounded by a Congregational church on one end and the Episcopalian church on the other (with other denominations not far away), there’s a graceful old inn on the green, and soldiers from conflicts dating all the way back to the French and Indian War (a/k/a the Seven Years’ War) are buried in the cemetery behind town hall. We have not one, not two, but three highly reputable private preparatory schools in town along with the excellent regional public school district. We’re not without our social tensions, we have our share of hardship and poverty, and we definitely are not immune to the other ills of society. As far as I know Jimmy Stewart does not operate a Savings and Loan here, but you get the picture. Many families over the past 350 years have staked out their piece of the American dream here – some have made it and many haven’t, but all have a pride of place and of their association with it.
I have just spent four months on the far side of the world during the most vigorous portion of the now-completed political campaigns, literally as far from home as one can get without leaving the planet. Whether in spite of or as a result of that great distance, and coupled with the events and conditions affecting our nation at home and abroad, I have felt moved by the current election in ways both cerebral and emotional to an extent I have never before experienced. Certainly, the frequent and sincere queries from Kiwis and others looking for some insight into our national consciousness and our political process kept events in the forefront of my mind and required that I be able to articulate my own views to others, with all the requisite careful consideration. Imagine a casual, polite dinner conversation where I am asked to explain the Electoral College, the role of US monetary policy on the world economy, the defining events in the lives of the Presidential candidates, why Texas is so different from New England, and what’s so important about Brett Favre playing for the Jets and you get the idea.
One particular comment from an older friend in Wanaka struck an interesting chord with me, one which has been on my mind quite a bit as the second Tuesday in November has approached. My friend is classic Kiwi: he’s an octogenarian, fit and mentally sharp, a retired and quite brilliant psychiatrist who immigrated to New Zealand from Scotland with his young family in the 1960’s. His comment to me (which clearly struck a nerve) was that the American Dream is really just a fantasy, noting that he’s “an expert on fantasies”. The problem is that my friend, like so many British, doesn’t get it. A fantasy, as he considered it, is not grounded in reality. In America, because we have and continue to create our own reality, we are free to dream of a nation and a world which may seem far-fetched, which may seem beyond our reach, but towards which we can dedicate ourselves, our resources, our efforts and our hopes – “our sacred honor”, as it were.
As Americans we are aware that the American Dream is a representation of our aspirations as individuals and as a community. We understand that there will always be a gap – sometimes large and, hopefully, sometimes small – between our abstraction of America the dream and the reality of America the nation. My friend failed to grasp that the dream was born of the confluence of the flowering of the liberal concepts of the great enlightenment philosophers, the antithetical relationship of their philosophies and an oppressive colonial power, and the destiny of a people empowered by their own natural inclination towards self-expression and self-betterment. Our “inalienable rights” arose out of the ether and took root in each and all of us. Believe me, I’ve seen the soil in New England up close and anything which is going to take root here and flower for generations had better be stubborn.
My intention is not to preach about how right we are, nor is it my intention to lecture on the merits or nature of the American Dream. My intention is to take a moment on the night before Election Day, at a time when our concepts of who were are as Americans and our goals for our country and its place in the world find challenges at every turn, to consider the essentials. There are many attributes we share with people on the other side of the world and I am blessed to consider so many of them my friends. They have and continue to enrich my life. Still, there is no place I’d rather be on Election Day than in my home town, among my own people – farmers, teachers, doctors, retires, and even ski instructors - considering our common aspirations and our differing opinions over a cup of coffee and a ballot box.
2 comments:
Interesting. I'll bet you are really excited. I'm excited from over here.
Liked your thoughts about a people inclined towards self-expression and self-betterment. That's one of the things I love about the place. So different from we moaning Brits! I do wish I had more of the American in me at times. Although I'm not sure about the relentless focus on the dream, I think it could well be bad for some people.
Well said. We are indeed an "experiment". All very exciting.
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