Daniel B. Stuart

Final Exam Essay #2

Deconstructing the Dominant Culture: Defining the Difference Between Cultures and Social Identifications

Perhaps it is a common misconception that the “dominant culture” within multicultural literature runs synonymous with the class distinctions of aristocracy and established elite, that “the Man” and the ruling class orchestrate the greater part of the model for immigrant assimilation. This assumption, as well as its correlating arguments that the wealthy elite determine the norm, is faulty in a variety of ways as can be witnessed within our ongoing study of multicultural literature, especially as it applies to the immigrant experience. The dominant culture characterizes not so much the patrician hierarchy--the honest, hardworking Americans proliferating the American Dream—as it contextualizes the preferred lifestyle and acclimatized denizens of democracy over the generations. It is neither conformity nor assimilation which defines it but rather an ever-evolving American ideal.

          In El Patron, Tito is a second generation Mexican-American who’s become a conscientious objector to the draft during the Vietnam War. His father, appalled at his son’s willful rebellion, sides with the powers that be, preferring to live by the rules in his adopted country rather than question the substance of its moral and ethical platforms. He wants his son to do the same, no matter how controversial the issue of fighting in an unpopular war seems to be to him. Assimilating with the dominant culture, the forces of government issuing the ultimatum to its citizens, is a vital part for Senor Martinez of identifying with the American ideal he cherishes. It is not for the immigrant, the minority or the subject to question the validity or motive of the ruling bodies. And yet would it not be valid to question this strata of the society, that of Senor Martinez and his brother, the narrator of the story, as being a part of the same dominant culture as Tito (Brown 162). Doesn’t Tito have allies in his cause, supporters alongside him to question the motives of the legislators? Doesn’t he also, in his objectionable capacity, demonstrating a right of the dominant culture, the citizen, the son of a former immigrant, of participating in the freedoms afforded him by the original dominant culture? To say that he is “de-assimilating” would infer he were somehow subverting the system and perhaps it is. But is this form of rebellion against the law of the land an unethical (non-assimilative) action or merely an unlawful deliberation? It’s a worthy consideration, determining the parameters, set in stone or otherwise transitory, of this dominant culture concept.

          The case of Tito isn’t the only instance which reimagines the dominant culture. Yekl lives in an America in which a “natural migration” of his fellow Yiddish-speaking, European born Jews have both coordinated their own community, one almost entirely absent of other cultures, and upheld a system of familial accountability. It is a society virtually insulated from the American gentile influence and yet it is one which has been steadily infiltrated by notions of dress and decorum, both internally and externally. “They don’t wear wigs here,” Yekl tells his wife Gitl. And indeed they don’t. Yet the “they” refers not so much to “Americans” or even “Gentiles” as it does to the reconceived notion of what is “right”. It’s a question of gender as much as it is culture (Cahan). Gitl, more than Yekl, faces a dual dominant culture—that of the Jewish paterfamilias-oriented society and that of the broader America in which Jewish culture is affected ambiguously by the original dominant culture of the gentile majority. It is she, much more than her husband, who most sift through the appropriateness of her new situation. Ironically, Gitl is the one who learns some of the most important lessons regarding what type of “dominant” culture she now must work with to survive.

          Even more singularly depicted views of the dominant culture can’t be defined as independent concepts. Toni Cade Bambara’s “The Lesson” offers a child’s perspective of a more “us vs. them” mentality when it comes to the minority vs. dominant cultures. From the microcosm of the black minority enclave in New York City to the swanky, uptown department store selling useless novelties for untold sums, the American experience is seen within a more “have” and “have not” arrangement. The divide is indeed great, so great that the gap between minority and “standard” seems largely unbridgeable making the disparity between what each culture values and the potential for full assimilation seem even larger. Not only would the children of “The Lesson” perceive such items as overpriced and tawdry, but the phenomenon evokes such an outrageous distortion that the irrationality of existence creeps in to the young minds (Brown, 21). Who would want a toy sailboat for a thousand dollars? Why would anyone, even a rich person, a member of the elite, the dominant culture, deem such an item as possessing any value? It certainly is a “lesson” for the reader in gauging the perspective of individual taste and value as contrasted to the minority American experience.

          Perhaps the term “dominant culture” is so labeled as to reveal, very candidly, the schism between the stronger and weaker parties of a society. It is certainly not the original immigrants to America who, at the time, formed the dominant majority. They were then the minority while the Native Americans retained majority proprietorship of the land and its resources. With time, however, the situation was reversed. Native Americans like Louise Erdrich’s American Horse became subjects, were “dominated,” by the stronger power and subjugated into minority culture status. African slaves were done likewise by European colonists, who brought them by force into the new world eventually to survive into the modern era as free individuals, yet still a minority culture. To be the weaker party, irregardless of means or ends, lends itself to be the “dominated” group.

But of course, it is easily argued that a culture’s status as dominant or minority is not solely based on race, or even class. Irish Catholic immigrants were already a minority culture across the Atlantic as subjects to the British monarchy. They found a similar fate upon arrival in America, forced into second tier living conditions and status as a dominated rather than superior culture. James Tyrone Sr. of Long Day’s Journey Into Night certainly found that if he were to assimilate and succeed, he had to rid himself of his Irish accent and learn to speak the “King’s English” (O’Neill, 129).

Is it then merely a matter of natural philosophy, this concept of the dominant culture, that “the strong do what they will and the weak suffer what they must?” That would seem the most plausible explanation, at least with regards to the original establishment of a dominant culture. But what of those second and third and even fourth generation immigrants who’ve failed to dominate, to carry on with the strength of their forebears the characteristics of the model. In the case of America, this would seem a formula for degeneration and instability. Jamie of Long Day’s Journey is certainly not a model anything. And it can be said that even the most standards-oriented cultural elite are not lacking for flaws in matters of character and outlook. So what is there to uphold this ongoing system of dominant and non-dominant cultures? Is it race, religion or destiny? Economic prowess or political tyranny? Perhaps the answer lies, as do many of the more satisfying conclusions, in the subtly insightful messages of subjective literature, of individual stories and narratives which guarantee a place and a time for all cultures and voices.

Works Cited

Brown, Wesley and Amy Ling, eds. Imagining America: Stories From The Promised Land. Rev. Ed. New York: Persea, 2002.

Bambara, Toni Cade. “The Lesson.” Imagining America: Stories From The Promised Land. New York: Persea, 2002. pp. 17-23.

Erdrich, Louise. “American Horse” Imagining America: Stories from the Promised Land. New York: Persea, 2002. pp. 158-171.

Cahan, Abraham. “Yekl: A Tale of the New York Ghetto.” LITR 5731. Web. 2012

O’Neill, Eugene. Long Day’s Journey Into Night. New Haven: Yale, 2002.

White, Craig. LITR 5731 Multicultural Literature: American Immigrant Literature. English Dept. UHCL. Web. 2012.