MidTerm:  The American Dream; Immigrant and Minority Narratives

& HOW EXTENDED FAMILIES AND GENDER ROLES CHANGE IN AMERICA 

This course explores the origin and make-up of modern American culture by examining various coming-to-America narratives and the dreams they embody.  “For the immigrant, leaving the Old World is an aspiration.  There is a sense of running from the old to the new,” a 2003 midterm explained.  Two dominant Immigrant Narratives emerge.  I think the first one goes something like this:  We all get an equal chance in America, the land of Justice for All, and All Men Created Equal, so get educated, give it your best shot, and you too will succeed!  The other is:  America is a hierarchy;  the Dominant Culture (British, French settlers and their descendants mostly) rules, so you’d better conform to how they do things (Hint: blandly and plainly) if you ever hope to succeed! 

             I started this course with solid “street” knowledge of this vast subject, meaning I possessed a near-instinctive understanding of immigrants and minorities gained from travel, voracious reading, and listening intently to others’ stories.  On the first day of this class, my mind hummed with zeal as it does when I rapidly gain a great deal of new information;  my unfocused and vague former knowledge started to sharpen, becoming more distinct, specific, clear and organized. 

            So what have I learned thus far?  I’m going to try to summarize it, but also avoid a yawn-inducing restating of the entire syllabus.  The narrative of the American Dream permeates the history of the United States, enticing the foreign-born with its promise of liberty and economic success: “Come to the United States,” the story goes, “The land of the free, and with a little luck and lots of hard work, you too can become a famous movie or rock star, live in a mansion and be driven around by a chauffeur--or at the very least “marry, get jobs, buy cars and maybe a house…” (from “Like Mexicans“) or “buy house” (from “Making of A Writer“).  A “fundamental” story of America, The American Dream has “mythic” qualities in its bold, optimistic proportions; yet, like myths, the “dream“ can turn out to be too good to be true--an American Nightmare instead. 

            Before this class, I did not distinguish between Immigrants and Minorities, assuming they were synonymous.  Now I understand that many things differentiate the two:  Immigrants come to America voluntarily, of their own choice; they may be minorities for a time (1-3 generations), but then they intermarry, lose their old accents, lose their former “styles of dress and become assimilated to the dominant culture.  Minorities do not assimilate or they have very mixed feelings about doing so” (course notes from web). 

            An immigrant refers to those who have come to America willingly, seeking the land of opportunity, such as the Irish, Italians, Jewish, Chinese, Hispanic, Philippine….  Immigrants assimilate into the Dominant culture generally with some resentments and while often holding on to their religions.   In contrast, minorities include Native American Indians and African Americans, classified as such because they were involuntary participants in their migration, forced from their ancestral homelands to a new, foreign place.  This involuntary participation in the migration is coupled by cultural restrictions on intermarriage with other ethnicities.  Since much of southwestern modern America belonged to Mexico before the mid-19^th century and since immigrants from Caribbean islands are descendants of slaves, Mexican Americans and Afro-Caribbeans (especially those from Haiti) can be seen to comprise an Ambivalent Minority group with elements of both the Minority and Immigrant narrative in their stories.  Even though this theft of Homeland occurred years ago, lasting resentment and prejudice has inhibited the progress of African American, Native Americans, Mexican Americans and Afro-Caribbeans in the American Dream narrative, a scenario that depends upon fitting into the Dominant Culture, losing “telltale” ethnic differences and adopting  the ideals and behaviors of the Dominant Culture.  “Shock, resistance, exploitation and discrimination”--Stage 3 of the Immigrant Narrative, will often characterize the entire life of a minority rather than make up a difficult or transitional phase of the experience.  Although I’m sure immigrants also get mired in this stage for a generation, by the second or third generation, the immigrant has assimilated to the Dominant culture and maybe moved on to Stage 5 wherein s/he reestablishes ties with their ethnic identity. 

            When immigrants (especially 1^st generation) are discriminated against or marginalized because of their speech or appearance, their storyline can be better classified as the American Nightmare.  Minority narratives of refusing to give up languages and ethnic flair or  encountering grave difficulties in accessing power once here are also American Nightmare narratives.  However, it is not a hopeless quagmire:  minorities often re-evaluate the priorities of the Dominant Culture and formulate an alternative vision, such as Dr. King‘s “Dream“ or the “Loss and Survival“ tales of Native Americans.  They help us to see our habits and practices in a new light, (Obj.5) “’de-familiarizing’ the American experience” in such a way that allows us to analyze such habits intellectually and envision a better way.  Some Ambivalent minorities learn to play the (Stage 4) game of assimilation to get what they want from the society, harboring much anger all the while.  The phenomena of re-evaluating Dominant Culture’s priorities and de-familiarizing the American experience as the boy does in “Coca-Cola, Coco Frio” for instance, is sometimes a part of Stage 5 of the Immigrant Narrative; the immigrant or minority rediscovers or reasserts his (her) ethnic identity at least partially.

            Two of the most compelling trends of the Immigrant Narrative are how the extended family of the Old World country tends to fragment, for better or worse, into smaller groups until it is sometimes a person in solitude; traditional gender roles being altered along with the family make-up changing.  Leave the Old World extended family behind for greater choice, freedom and   individuality n America.  Some nostalgia for the extended family and much sentimental reminiscing occurs but it’s easy to be fond of family from a distance.  In general, though, the characters don’t seem to miss being confined to strict gender roles. 

BREAKING OUT OF TRADITIONAL GENDER ROLES AND EXTENDED FAMILIES

            “Thank God for the Jews” shows Fatima, a young wife and mother who’s family has immigrated to the states from Pakistan, breaking out of a traditional gender role in favor of something vaguely like a modern, isolated consumer.  She now has so many choices, though most of them are in the shopping center!  Before immigrating, what she knew about America she knew mostly from the movies, it would seem.  She has longed for the glamour and sexiness of the stars on the silver screen: “Gregory Peck. The man who invaded her daydreams many an afternoon when she was a teenager.  Even now he smiled and she wished she were Ava Gardner.” 

            Fatima is not a great domestic; she “dawdled in the foyer as if she were as guest in her own home,“ seemingly detached from her surroundings in an isolated way.  She neglects her traditional duties as caretaker of the house.  Housekeeping and cooking do not seem to be her callings, yet she seems unsure about what is.  In other words, she is not so modern or thoroughly free of traditional roles that she leaves home to pursue her own career, handing her son over to a daycare.  But rather than getting cuddled, talked to or played with by mom, her son gets entertained by Sesame Street.  She can’t cook fish:  “curried fish chunks disintegrating, becoming mush”; “her mother would cringe at her wastefulness.”    Eyeballing the messy kitchen, dishes crusted with “overcooked spices,” she tells herself she really must get around to cleaning it today, but settles down with tea in front of the TV instead, after closing the blinds tight to shut out the morning sun, seemingly reject the outer world for an isolated one of fantasy and entertainment.  She seems quite thoroughly Americanized here:  personal choice overrides duty to family,  and she wholly indulges in popular culture and shopping.  Fab detergent goes on the shopping list right after she hears the commercial which shows she’s become a good little American, i.e. an apt consumer and shopper.  She uses Tetley tea, Corningware and Beech-nut juices.  By the end of the story, she hurriedly lets go of tradition, switching from traditional Halal meat to Jewish kosher.

            The experienced and knowledgeable Adeeba who has been in America longer than Fatima goes out alone to “window shop and hunt for bargains early in the day before shoppers crowded the stores looking for discounts.”  Part of their assimilation is this independence marked by a huntress’s keen eye for a deal; they can choose to do as they please even it means lazying about rather than being industrious traditional housekeepers and cooks.  Indeed, because she doesn’t have any children Samina enjoys the “silent agreement among the women that she be allowed to sleep late.”  The implication of this is that being alone, living as a single unit, independent, free of restraints of extended or even nuclear family, has benefits. 

            However, this opportunity and these choices overwhelm, scare and confuse her also.  She feel guilty for not reading the Quran in a long time or praying.  She envies the ladies back home who do not have to agonize over the ingredients to choose to cook their meal for guests because they do not have all the confusing choices.  But in the same story, she calls the old religious beliefs “ridiculous,” referring to the practice of saying Allah when the animal is put to the knife as “all this nonsense,” contrasting it to being a rationalist. 

            What also seems to be happening is that her marriage is not particularly intimate, following the pattern of Modernization:  out with the extended family, then the nuclear family and then she’s left alone.  Her husband has “a face she does not know, does not understand,” and she asks, revealing the real lack of affection or passion between them, “Was he going to kiss her or was he going to forget?”

            “The Lesson” paints another portrait of an unconventional young woman, Miss Moore, breaking out of traditional gender roles in the New World.  She is well-educated; she wears no make-up and is not afraid to let all the world admire her “nappy” hair;  she is unmarried without children.  Her job seems to be to prompt the young girls in the group to envision a different society, to “dream” of an alternative to unfairness and unjustness, a true “equal chance.”

            In “The English Lesson,” Lali is beginning to realize the power of her independence.  As in the Immigrant Narrative, education is an essential aspect of assimilation, a stepping stone for her to opportunity.  However, it is simultaneously a step down the path of marriage dissolution, as in the Modernization narrative.  

            Rudi, her husband, sees no need to expand the horizons of Lali’s world; he sees nothing wrong with being her only world: “Why is it necessary?  She works here in the store with me. She don’t have to talk to nobody.  Besides everyone that come into the store speaks Spanish, or practically everyone anyway.“  He is content for her sphere of experience to remain tightly closed, small, and controlled by him.  However, he does concede to let her go, like a father giving permission.  Her individuality, courage, intelligence and worldly experience are all being developed by going to the English class;  with this growth, she needs her older husband less and less.  “She had been especially irritable that week, dreading this last session. For her, [the class on] Tuesday meant leaving the world of Rudi, that street, the luncheonette, everything she felt imprisoned her. She was accomplishing something all by herself, and without the help of the man she was dependent upon.”  The fun, joking and “uncontrollable laughter,”  she enjoys with he classmate, William, and the regret she feels when the class ends portend that this learning and expansion of individuality at the expense of family is not over.  “They had little in common and seldom spoke about anything but business ….After almost a year of marriage, he felt he hardly knew Lali or what he might do to please her.”  So with her growth as an individual, the family suffers.  With the disintegration of the extended or nuclear family, she gets to break out of traditional gender roles. 

            Running out of time so must speed through the rest!

            “El Patron” features Lola who backtalks to her father, arguing over his patriarchal “macho, chauvinist” ways.  She is not so modern that she leaves family totally in the dust without food or nurturing.  Apart from the brief outbursts with the Patriarch, heroic 1^st generation El Patron, she must retaliate in classic way of 1^st or 2^nd generation females in traditional family roles:  passive aggressively rather than in a straightforward fashion.  Just as my grandma did for years with my Boss granddad, she took her anger out in sneaky, silent ways, grudge holding and score-keeping, like Lola does with the terrible meal.  But Lola is quite strong too, ordering the narrator to answer the door and seeming tough and bold enough to “stomp to the guest room, and heave Senor Martinez out into the street”--so not a meek mild little Wall Flower, either.   

            In “The Making of A WRITER” the author, Marshall, breaks out of the role of traditional female by spending most of her time growing up in the library, reading the “classics” and then falling in love with books by African Americans like herself rather than, say, a real live boy.  She dreams of writing, or remaking herself, of elevating herself through art rather than of The Perfect Wedding and having babies.  She thanks her mother who was stuck in the kitchen, in the homes of others more wealthy than they, cleaning, in a traditional female role; but she thanks her for the power of creative, forceful, poetic language that she and her female friends used to gain a sense of control over their world.  Marshall learned and utilized this power, discovered in the kitchen, to break out of the confines of the kitchen.

            The syllabus says that shopping is sometimes equated to sex, or imbued with sexual fever.  Now here’s a long-shot:  perhaps in “How to Date a Browngirl,” when Diaz contends that “a white girl might just give it up right then,” the white girl symbolizes the sexually emboldened female who has broken out of traditional female roles in the Dominant Culture of a modern society.  Assimilating to this Dominant Culture entails, for females, then means coming to terms with their own sexuality.  Sounds ridiculous when put like that….

            Yet this theme appears in a “Wife’s Story“ undeniably.  It ends with an image of the protagonist reveling in her own “naked body”:  “the breasts, the thighs glow.  The body’s beauty amazes. I stand there shameless, in ways he has never seen me. I am free, afloat, watching somebody else.”  What freedom and individuality she is experiencing!  Yet at the same time, what alienation from her family--she can not communicate this fervor and power to her husband.  Coming from an Old World Indian culture, she can not tell him that she has fallen far more in love with her new power and individuality in New York than with him.  She protects him from how greatly she has changed.  For although he went into near-orgasmic delight while shopping, she knows he could not accept her total expansion out of the traditional female role of  modest, demure Indian wife and mother.  She seems poised on the brink of having an affair, or experimenting or exploring sexually.   

            Modernization includes a sexual revolution--enabling sexual freedom for women in ways totally incompatible with traditional female roles expected within extended families in Old World cultures.  As the modern society creates ever-smaller family units until one is left alone, I venture that the female’s role alters to such a degree that she can experience (albeit with considerable more worry about pregnancy than the male) sexual freedom similar to what males have traditionally enjoyed, if she so desires.  Of course, such a female may still incur a backlash of disapproval from a society still threatened by equality for all. 

            When I traveled through New Zealand and lived there for a year and a half, I was surprised to learn that even there the indigenous people, the Maoris, seemed to be suffering from the resentment of having been robbed of their land and an unwillingness to totally join the thieves’ Dominant Culture similar to the Minorities in this culture.  Larger numbers of Maoris were disenfranchised, unemployed and living in poverty than people from the Dominant (colonizer) Culture.  I experienced the effects of Modernization on that trip as well.  Twenty six years-old, unencumbered by children and unattached to a male, traveling solo, I experienced a euphoric sense of freedom and anonymity.  Yet these highs were offset by moments of hollow loneliness in which it seemed as if the high winds of that country--especially in “windy Wellington” where I lived for seven months--might blow me off the earth and out to space if I didn’t find anchor fast with fellow-human attachment.  I’ll save the details of those adventurous human attachments for another essay, but suffice to say  they were much easier to have without my family there to disapprove, chastise, reprimand or attempt to restrain.  I considered immigrating to New Zealand for good.  The freedom I felt there far surpassed what I feel here, but ultimately, my longing for my family--who of course seemed much nicer at a distance--won out, and I came home.  [AP]