Humanities and the American Dream was actually part of an essay question from my Humanities class and part of a recurring dream that I had for a while. It sort of evolved into what you see below.
I am not 100% sure what the American dream is. Is it, “a nice house with a green lawn and a quiet neighborhood?” And don’t forget the 2.5 kids, dog, and white picket fence. Do we go through stages of this dream just like we do when we are sleeping? I believe so. We may start out with this dream, but as the night wears on (or in this scenario, as life goes on) the dream changes…
I have had a recurring dream of a large house, with twisting, hidden passages, each leading to a different room decorated in a different mood. Some rooms are brightly lit and welcoming, others ancient and almost foreboding. The house is in a nondescript location and is grey-green with dirty purple and grey accents. I see dark wrought iron in place of white picket. The yard is slightly overgrown, not neatly manicured nor weed free. Nevertheless, inside I hear laughter; not 2.5 children, but four BOYS. There is no doll-play, or the "whistle-BOOM!" of imaginary missiles shooting from little green plastic army tanks. The ceilings thunder and the floors shake, as open areas in the family room turn into wrestling rings. Soccer and football cleats abound as do the leather laced orbs representative of their sport. THUD! "Oh, the humanity!" someone screams...
Welcome to my nightmare. This is my American dream.
Myk, 2009
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