Although the phrase "the American Dream" dates from the 1930s, the concept or idea of the American Dream is as old as the country. The values proclaimed in the Declaration of Independence and reaffirmed (and extended) in the Gettysburg Address have been continuously promoted by every American president. Moreover, they form the basis of our national collective narrative as expressed through both elite and popular culture. The American Dream is intrinsically tied to the American Creed and American Exceptionalism. It is the foundation of our national identity, the glue that holds together our individual aspirations. Yet until the mid-twentieth century, the American Dream excluded African Americans. We as a nation—as an imagined community—could not imagine an integrated, multiracial society with Blacks and Whites living together as equals. By examining the lives of the only three African American Nobel Peace Prize winners, we can see how their lives were shaped by the American Dream, and how their success was used to deny the structural racism that prevented others from achieving the American Dream. Ralph Bunche as a role model of academic and technical expertise, Martin Luther King, Jr., as a model race leader, and Barack Obama as a political leader provide a window on the changing meaning of the American Dream. In conclusion, Haiti is presented as a failed example of an attempt to export the American Dream in the form of American Exceptionalism, and racial reparations are reimagined as a radical democratic project aimed at true global integration and justice.

What do we mean by the American dream? Can we define it? Or does any discussion of the phrase end inconclusively, the solid turned liquid—like ice melting? Do we know whether the American dream motivates and inspires or, alternately, obscures and deceives? The Routledge Handbook on the American Dream offers distinctive, authoritative, original essays by well-known scholars that address the social, economic, historical, philosophic, legal, and cultural dimensions of the American dream for the twenty-first century. The American dream, first discussed and defined in print by James Truslow Adams’s The Epic of America (1931), has become nearly synonymous with being American. Adams’s definition, although known to scholars, is often lost in our ubiquitous use of the term. When used today, the iconic phrase seems to encapsulate every fashion, fad, trend, association, or image the user identifies with the United States or American life. The American dream’s ubiquity, though, argues eloquently for a deeper understanding of its heritage, its implications, and its impact—to be found in this first research handbook ever published on the topic.

This book advances the view that concentrated black power is the backbone of the Democratic Party and, as such, black empowerment represents the last hope for the US both domestically and internationally. Through analyses of secondary data, historical archives, and a variety of political and economic statistical indicators, it examines the relationship between black empowerment and America's global stature across its history, exploring the socio-historical context in which obstacles to black empowerment have occurred and the strategies that have been adopted across time for its realization. An examination of what Black political, legal, economic and cultural power looks like, The Fight for Black Empowerment in the USA makes an urgent call for the up-lift and empowerment of the black population, without which the nation faces irreversible political and economic dysfunction domestically, and a loss of its status as a global superpower. As such, it will appeal to scholars across the social sciences with interests in racial and ethnic inequalities and contemporary American society.

The American Dream and Dreams Deferred: A Dialectical Fairy Tale shows how rival interpretations of the Dream reveal the dialectical tensions therein. Exploring often neglected voices, literatures, and histories, Carlton D. Floyd and Thomas Ehrlich Reifer highlight moments when the American Dream appears both simultaneously possible and out of reach. In so doing, the authors invite readers to make a new collective dream of a better future, on socially just, multicultural, and ecologically sustainable foundations.

This provocative book reveals how Hollywood films reflect our deepest fears and anxieties as a country, often recording our political beliefs and cultural conditions while underscoring the darker side of the American way of life. Long before the war in Iraq and the economic crises of the early 21st century, Hollywood has depicted a grim view of life in the United States, one that belies the prosperity and abundance of the so-called American Dream. While the country emerged from World War II as a world power, collectively our sense of security had been threatened. The result is a cinematic body of work that has America's decline and ruin as a central theme. The author draws from popular films across all genres and six decades to illustrate how the political climate of the times influenced their creation. Projecting the End of the American Dream: Hollywood's Visions of U.S. Decline combines film history, social history, and political history to reveal important themes in the unfolding American narrative. Discussions focus on a wide variety of films, including Rambo, Planet of the Apes, and Easy Rider.

In the world of academic anti-racism, the idea of white privilege has become the dominant paradigm for understanding racial inequality. Its roots can be traced to radical critiques of racial capitalism, however its contemporary employment tends to be class-blind, ignoring the rifts that separate educated, socially mobile elites from struggling working-class communities. How did this come to be? Beyond White Privilege traces the path by which an idea with radical potential got ‘hijacked’ by a liberal anti-racism that sees individual prejudice as racism’s primary manifestation, and white moral transformation as its appropriate remedy. This ‘politics of privilege’ proves woefully inadequate to the enduring forms of racial and economic injustice shaping the world today. For educated white elites, privilege recognition has become a ritual of purification distinguishing them from their working-class counterparts. For the white working class, whose privileges have eroded, but not disappeared, the politics of privilege often looks like class scapegoating – a process that has helped to drive increasing numbers of alienated whites into the arms of white nationalist movements. This book offers an alternative path: an ‘interest convergence’ approach that recaptures the radical potential of white privilege discourse by emphasizing converging, cross-racial interests – in education, housing, climate justice, and others – that reveal that the ‘racial bribe’ of whiteness is ultimately contrary to the interests of working-class whites. It will therefore appeal to readers across the social sciences and humanities with interests in issues of racial inequality and social justice.

Kulkul presents her ethnographic work with Turkish Muslim women in Berlin as evidence that community is not an entity but is produced by instrumentalizing specific forms of identification and boundary-making. In examining the role of community in the case of her participants, Kulkul finds that religion and culture are important not for the values they perpetuate, but for their role in forming and sustaining the community. She looks at the importance of boundaries and especially their reciprocity. Social boundaries are a set of codes of exclusion often used against migrants and refugees, while symbolic boundaries are typically understood as the way one defines one’s own group. Kulkul argues that these two types of boundaries tend to trigger each other and thus be mutually reinforcing. At the same time, she presents a picture of everyday life from the perspective of migrants and the children of migrants in a cosmopolitan European city – Berlin. A valuable read for scholars of migration and culture, which will especially interest scholars focused on Europe.

This edited collection presents perspectives from a range of disciplines on the challenges of dismantling coloniality in settler societies. Showcasing a variety of pedagogies and case studies, the book offers approaches to the praxis of decolonisation in diverse settings including tertiary education, activism, arts curatorial practice, the media, trans-Indigeneity, and psychosocial therapy. Chapters centre on the personal, relational, and political work needed to support decolonisation in settler societies in Aotearoa New Zealand, Australia, the United States, and Canada. Drawing from experiences in the field, contributors argue that to decolonise research and build authentic relationships with Indigenous communities, settler researchers must learn from Indigenous worldviews without appropriating them, disrupt colonial epistemologies, and reconcile their place in colonialism. Indigenising is discussed as a counterpart to the decolonisation process, involving restoring and centring the Indigenous voice within Indigenised socio-cultural, economic, legal, and political structures and institutions, including the return of land. The book is a rich resource for researchers seeking to understand and support decolonisation in settler societies, and will appeal to non-Indigenous scholars, students, and those involved in decolonisation work in community and institutional settings.

The Color of Creatorship examines how copyright, trademark, and patent discourses work together to form American ideals around race, citizenship, and property. Working through key moments in intellectual property history since 1790, Anjali Vats reveals that even as they have seemingly evolved, American understandings of who is a creator and who is an infringer have remained remarkably racially conservative and consistent over time. Vats examines archival, legal, political, and popular culture texts to demonstrate how intellectual properties developed alongside definitions of the "good citizen," "bad citizen," and intellectual labor in racialized ways. Offering readers a theory of critical race intellectual property, Vats historicizes the figure of the citizen-creator, the white male maker who was incorporated into the national ideology as a key contributor to the nation's moral and economic development. She also traces the emergence of racial panics around infringement, arguing that the post-racial creator exists in opposition to the figure of the hyper-racial infringer, a national enemy who is the opposite of the hardworking, innovative American creator. The Color of Creatorship contributes to a rapidly-developing conversation in critical race intellectual property. Vats argues that once anti-racist activists grapple with the underlying racial structures of intellectual property law, they can better advocate for strategies that resist the underlying drivers of racially disparate copyright, patent, and trademark policy.

How creative freedom, race, class, and gender shaped the rebellion of two visionary artists Postwar America experienced an unprecedented flourishing of avant-garde and independent art. Across the arts, artists rebelled against traditional conventions, embracing a commitment to creative autonomy and personal vision never before witnessed in the United States. Paul Lopes calls this the Heroic Age of American Art, and identifies two artists—Miles Davis and Martin Scorsese—as two of its leading icons. In this compelling book, Lopes tells the story of how a pair of talented and outspoken art rebels defied prevailing conventions to elevate American jazz and film to unimagined critical heights. During the Heroic Age of American Art—where creative independence and the unrelenting pressures of success were constantly at odds—Davis and Scorsese became influential figures with such modern classics as Kind of Blue and Raging Bull. Their careers also reflected the conflicting ideals of, and contentious debates concerning, avant-garde and independent art during this period. In examining their art and public stories, Lopes also shows how their rebellions as artists were intimately linked to their racial and ethnic identities and how both artists adopted hypermasculine ideologies that exposed the problematic intersection of gender with their racial and ethnic identities as iconic art rebels. Art Rebels is the essential account of a new breed of artists who left an indelible mark on American culture in the second half of the twentieth century. It is an unforgettable portrait of two iconic artists who exemplified the complex interplay of the quest for artistic autonomy and the expression of social identity during the Heroic Age of American Art.