American Mythology

The stories we tell ourselves aren’t as interesting as they used to be. Throughout my life, I bought into the idea of American Mythology, and it’s a topic that comes to mind in the wake of the election now days away. With candidates making their final pleas for votes, I’m noticing the rhetoric presenting an image of what these visionaries think this country should be. One side believes in compromise, of disagreement leading to unified change. The other is so divided that it’s eating up a precious media blitz with controversy around calling Puerto Rico a garbage island and that attacking our institution was a “day of peace.” 

But to me, the mythology was important to appreciating what made this country significant. The storytellers are the ones who place meaning on the insignificant, deciding what will linger in the public consciousness for eternity. They inform where the pathos is placed and encourages generations to deconstruct why it matters. The best weave a tale that becomes one with the larger fabric and restore hope to those near and far that, yes, this is the land of opportunity. If you come here, you will have the chance to make a better life and achieve your dreams. Like all mythology, there is an element of fantasy. Like all mythology, there is also an element of truth and desire somewhere buried within.

American Mythology isn’t a flawless genre. It is doubtful that you could dig more than a few pages into the text before you find the first anachronism of one or two parties being misrepresented. It may seem harder to appreciate a contemporary update since more authors are on the scroll with their pen fighting to rewrite every line. They’re the people with power alongside the disadvantaged, all with platforms and cameras documenting every refute. Maybe an issue of modern American Mythology not being as rich or “fantastical” as even the 90s idealism is how aware we are of realism. Even then, having the most notorious figure in modern discourse be an aging salesman is a move that Arthur Miller wouldn’t see coming.

Please don’t take this essay as an endorsement of “alternative facts” or that I want to call them The Cleveland Indians again. To me, people who refuse to engage with those perspectives have their own moral issues to resolve. There is a rising contrast, especially over the past decade, of people wanting to create an America that is unattractive and Anglo-Centric. To hear their narratives is to see a ton of erasure of what this country has meant to me. I accept that as someone who grew up in California, I was fortunate enough to have a more liberal upbringing that didn’t shy away from this country’s fraught history. Even then, it becomes uncomfortable to see what I can only call American Extremism suggesting that this country is perfect. It never made a mistake that didn’t vote Democrat. It’s an opinion that I expect of a child, but as someone capable of cognitive dissonance, you should be able to see that, yes, America was flawed but also that, yes, America has a lot that makes it great at the same time.

I recognize that my view of this country is limited to my west coast vantage point. There’s a lot that I cannot understand about the Midwest or Northeast from afar. I also have lived a cozy enough life that certain struggles don’t immediately resonate with me. And yet, I believe in American Mythology because they’re the one thing that travels faster than the postal service. They become their own language, giving us a sense of what it means to live throughout this land. Even the most adventurous of individuals will not be able to see everything that makes this country great in part because of the time exclusivity of certain phenomena, but also because significance changes with the person. Even then, it’s the story, the pitch, that allows us to empathize with people indirectly. As they pass away, it’s a cache their relatives can pass on while sitting in a room full of heirlooms. It’s a way to recognize that the great part of American Mythology is the individuality. For as much as this is a “United” States, it’s the pieces that make us great.

There is something upsetting about the modern sensibility of trying to take away this mythology by ignoring the rich history of this country. I accept that on some level it’s a byproduct of bias and that this is a land that started on disagreements. There is no “perfect” America and the evolution has been muddy at best. Even then, it’s important not to deny its place in our story if just to show the ways this country has grown and changed. It’s in understanding the quest for freedom that the greater thesis makes the most sense. By denying that anyone struggled for rights is to eliminate the beauty of America’s willingness to hear you out if you have the right argument. It’s a country full of mistakes, but only a cynic would stop at cringing. Someone who believes in this country is more likely to see the mistake and work towards fixing it. Even this past week, Joe Biden has expressed an apology to indigenous communities for the travesties caused by boarding schools decades ago. There needs to be an effort to acknowledge and work together on, as the constitution says, “a more perfect union.” And the only way to achieve that is to listen.

Again, I think being a child of the 90s meant that I learned from a community that encouraged listening. By second grade, I was learning the basic framework of The Civil Rights Movement. They were showing VHS tapes of Schoolhouse Rock discussing “The Great American Melting Pot” while the movie 1776 (1972) created a vision of our Founding Fathers that humanized them in a way that brought history to life. I even won a raffle where I got a poster from the edutainment series Histeria!. I recognize that I came from a family that was very much about instilling patriotism so that I had a fondness for the judicial system before I even understood what that meant. Before I knew any specific causes, I would go to The State Capitol in Sacramento and wander in awe. During my downtime, I followed the Bill Clinton-Bob Dole election while visiting polling stations that my grandma worked at and reading child-approved biographies of the men who made this country what they were. By the end of high school, I visited Washington D.C. twice including the second inauguration of George W. Bush.

To put it simply, I love America even though I’m in a phase where it’s difficult to fully appreciate why. Part of it may be lingering disillusionment from the fallout of 2020 and The Pandemic. It could be that I’ve been listening to more critical opinions of our leaders as well as listening to the leaders period. You can’t grow old without a few disagreements over the years, and the modern definition of American Mythology feels like it’s being bastardized. 

We’re in an election where the vice presidential candidate said, “If I have to create stories so that the American media actually pays attention to the suffering of the American people, then that’s what I’m gonna do.” This isn’t in response to any gaffe of Paul Bunyan-style banality. This is regarding Haitians in Springfield, OH eating dogs and cats. The results have been death threats without any accountability for those spouting xenophobic rhetoric. Then again, they haven’t apologized for any comments about immigration that paints one of America’s greatest features as Doomsday 2025. I recently watched a video by YouTuber Dead Domain detailing how this rhetoric is on par with Anti-Semitism during World War II, which proves they’re not beating the “pro-fascist” accusations.

That isn’t to say there aren’t causes to emphasize, but it does feel like the “sexy” topics (read: bigotry) tend to get talked about more. I’m watching The MLB World Series right now and Game 4 featured no less than five transphobic ads. Whereas I’d assume voters would be more interested in economic goals, I’ve seen predominantly misguided push against “they/them” in favor of “you.” To say it hasn’t affected my health horribly would be a lie. In fact, it’s stuff like this that I ultimately come down on the side of feeling like America needs to take a break as a power leader and decide what truly matters. Put away the Blue Angels and fireworks and just understand why America is great. Even the flag, for as much as it’s done for me, feels tainted because of who wears it like sunscreen on a beach in July.

I do feel like a child of similar age now may not be as appreciative of American Mythology simply because it has grown so different that I don’t know if the old stories have the same emotional impact. Whereas I grew up believing in the significance of people like Frederick Douglas, Jackie Robinson, Rosa Parks, and Caesar Chavez standing up for their rights to make a difference, I have to wonder how a child in an environment of constant censorship and manipulation can appreciate the organic narrative. Even my glossy-eyed admiration for Clinton as a seven-year-old probably seems improbable to younger generations.

That is why I feel it’s responsible to never forget. While history may be too complex to fully interpret, I see American Mythology as an entry point into a greater understanding. There isn’t one story that captures this great nation so clearly, but they all create a tapestry of why this land has been a phenomenal place to be. To quote The Last Black Man in San Francisco (2019): “You can’t hate it unless you love it.” To me, there are a lot of reasons to be critical but there’s also reason to be thankful for the opportunities it offers those who get lucky. Maybe hard work will not make you the millionaire the blanket statement “American Dream” promises, but hopefully it will give you a stable living and a wonderful community to share your opinion with. Maybe you’ll get to listen to jazz music on the way to eating Mexican food while Amy Tan discusses the duality of being a Chinese American. They all come together to present a land that holds a different truth for everyone and can open something more insightful. 

We need E.L. Doctorow exploring the cultural tides of the 1900s in “Ragtime.” We need John Steinbeck creating a portrait of The Great Depression in “The Grapes of Wrath.” We need Solomon Northup documenting slavery to better understand hope amid abundant cruelty. We need William Faulkner critiquing The Antebellum South in “A Rose for Emily.” We need The Harlem Renaissance creating a more complex vision of Black lives. We need Alice Walker sharing a southern story where a Black woman gets to be happy in “The Color Purple.” We need James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, and Zora Neale Hurston. We need Alex Haley celebrating his personal history in “Roots.” We need Philip Roth exploring the frustrating nuances of being a Jewish-American during the 20th century. We need Louise Erdrich and M. Scott Momaday giving a more creative understanding of indigenous life. We need Willa Cather discussing Midwest life in “O, Pioneers!” We need Jhumpa Lahiri analyzing what it means to be Indian and American. We need Sylvia Plath chronicling mental illness in “The Bell Jar.” We need Imogen Binnie redefining the trans narrative in “Nevada.” We need Chuck Palahniuk deconstructing fragile masculinity in “Fight Club.” Come to think of it, we need better media literacy in general.

There’s so many more we need and it’s difficult to do them all justice here.  While I emphasized novelists and poets, I believe that American Mythology is a topic that translates to more performative mediums as well. It’s there in the artwork and music. We need to sing Woody Guthrie while doing another parody of Grant Wood’s American Gothic. We need to look out at The Atlantic Ocean and find pride in The Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. We need to listen to Shaina Taub’s Suffs and believe that freedom is something we have and should always fight for. Those are defining features. Most of our ancestors came from afar wanting to start a better life. Every family’s story is different, and I hate the idea that some want to erase those aspirations in order to make America look “perfect.” To me, that’s not perfect. That’s just delusional.

For me, American Mythology will always be an amazing thing because it seems more meticulous and odd than any other country. While it can be argued that it’s a narrative informed way too much by capitalistic leanings, there’s still this drive for authenticity and individuality in order to make everybody’s lives better. I respect that I’ll disagree with a lot of people come Election Day, but I hope it’s not in the sense that we’re doomed. I don’t want to turn on the news and see people rejecting the American Mythology that I grew up learning about. We need the diversity. We need to have a world that is welcome to discussion and change. America was always great, but the chance for it to be better is what makes it special. I hold out hope that everyone will remember that before it’s too late. Until then, I turn to American Mythology as a gentle reminder of what will continue to matter to this citizen.