Stakes is High: Life After the American Dream

For Smith, capitalism is not merely an economic system pragmatically employed by democratic nations in order to promote wealth and prosperity. Instead, Smith discusses capitalism as a caste system, an ideology that classifies poverty as nothing more than a mindset, as emphasized in this passage: “Poverty is a capitalist’s main resource, as it ensures there will always be a class of people to exploit” (73). Smith further elucidates his view on capitalism by referencing Iceberg Slim’s memoir, Pimp, arguing that the comparison between capitalism and pimping reveals that “Pimping (not sex work) is capitalism in its purest form: all the profits generated by labor end up in the hands of ownership/management that performed none of the labor” (73). Capitalism is the ideology of the American Dream, which to Smith is nothing but a harmful myth, used to rewrite and even erase history.

Smith defines the Combahee River collective, formed in the 1970s, as a “group of Black feminist scholars and activists [who] began meeting in Boston to form an organization that would address the political concerns of Black woman, which they felt had been ignored by the larger feminist movement” (82). The name was taken from a notorious site in South Carolina where Harriet Tubman made history, freeing over 750 enslaved people during a military campaign she led. In an effort to clarify their stance and purpose as an organization, the Collective issued a statement in 1977 in which they articulate their roots in what they call identity politics. Smith alludes to the Combahee River Collective to trace the origin of this term, which in contemporary society has become something else. Smith argues that identity politics have been misread as “being hostile and unsympathetic toward any issue that does not directly relate back to one’s own identity, though that charge is most often lobbed at those who are non-white, non-cis, non-hetero, and non-male” (83). Identity politics for the Combahee River Collective, the original authors of the term, was a direct result in their belief that Black women could be free, having dismantled systemic oppression through coalition and collaboration.

Smith uses “Delusions” as the title of Part 1, in order to call attention to a number of beliefs that exist within America despite being contradicted by reality or reason. Smith cites specific examples of these types of delusions, such as in the following passage:

The promise of a free, equal, and just America in which your destiny is completely in your own control sounds wonderful, and because it hurts too much to think that your future is controlled by anything more than your own actions, it is easy to fall under this spell, the illusion of democracy and freedom (34).

Despite the fact that countless Black lives have been lost to police violence, for instance, the delusion of an America where all are treated equally and fairly is somehow allowed to survive.

Smith describes the United States as an empire, not in an ironic or metaphorical sense, but in a literal manner. He uses the specific examples of Puerto Rico and border enforcement to illustrate this point, as evidenced for instance in this passage: “It’s a great paradox of empire—a virtually borderless country that fiercely enforces its artificial borders” (94). Smith argues that the United States works to maintain a sense of border security in order to provide comfort for White people, who “can be less fearful of one day being outnumbered” (94). In Puerto Rico, a US territory that is in essence a colony, Smith once again emphasizes the role of the United States as an empire: “Democratic nations do not have colonies. This is empire” (95). By ascribing the term “empire” to the United States, Smith once again sheds light on the delusion of American democracy, particularly for those who don’t participate in the benefits of America’s power and influence in the world. Yet, even as Smith asserts that “America is an empire built on cowardice” (52), he believes that America does not need to remain tied to this identity if it learns from history.

Smith uses the word “freedom” as the title for Part 4, in which he tackles the subject of freedom in a broad, expansive manner. By telling the story of Pleasant Lampkins, his great-great-great grandfather who was born enslaved in 1836, he discusses freedom in a more tangible way. By telling the story of Shirley Chisholm, the first Black woman to make a run at the presidency, he links freedom to progress. By calling for change in America, Smith suggests revolution as the necessary expression for true freedom, by evoking Hannah Arendt’s idea that “the aim of revolution has always been freedom” (166). Smith denounces America’s tendency to define freedom in the context of individuals, versus the collective shared benefits of a society where a rebuilt infrastructure could “ensure survival and prosperity” (166) for all of its members.

“Justice” serves as the title of Part 2, where Smith makes his case for abolishing the police, who are in theory supposed to be allies of justice in the United States. The reality, as Smith points out, is quite the opposite. Smith reminds the reader that the contrast between real justice and police methodology is not a recent phenomenon, but a historical pattern. He writes: “I thought, then, of the old civil right-era footage of the police turning water hoses on children, strong and painful streams meant to extinguish fires […] unarmed children called upon to be brave to change a society resistant to justice for all” (98). Smith discusses justice in many facets, from environmental to economic to racial to social, in order to emphatically illustrate that “there is no justice here” (98).

Smith recasts the American Dream as “myth,” arguing that it is not aspirational but delusionary. This myth, according to Smith, is inculcated into Americans, because of the outcomes it promises, despite experiencing oppression on a constant basis. He writes: “Even as we suffer under the boot of oppression, we are not immune to the indoctrination into the American myth” (34). The myth becomes plausible, and so we as a society buy into it, adopting it as a philosophy and as an objective. As Smith explains how Martin Luther King, Jr.’s legacy has been tarnished by the rewriting of his actual message, he laments that Dr. King has become a symbol for the myth. According to Smith, this “is precisely why he [Dr. King] can be left behind […] the symbols of the myth leave us attached to the myth itself” (45). This separation between America’s mythical icons, such as Dr. King, is a necessary step in untangling the myth, so that in its place a real story of the United States can help improve our historical and contemporary understanding.

The title of the book is taken from a 1996 song and album by hip hop trio De La Soul. The song itself is not quoted in the book, but Smith uses its themes and (especially) its music video as an inspiration for his own understanding of the current state of America. The visuals given to the song by means of the music video remind the viewer and listener that “at any given moment, underneath the mundane lurks an emergency” (167). In his closing words of “Part 4: Freedom,” Smith borrows the song title to exhort the reader to consider change, as he writes, “Stakes is high, and what little time we have left can no longer be spent on preserving our mythical selves. We must choose to lose our old story. We must choose us” (170). By framing the book in the context of high stakes, Smith reminds the reader of the urgency behind his ideas.