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Social class and social inequality
Social class and inequality
Social class and social inequality
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As McAdam and Kloos write, “the country is now more starkly divided in political terms than at any time since the end of Reconstruction and more unequal in material terms than roughly a century ago and greater, even, than on the eve of the Great Depression” (McAdam and Kloos 4). An increase in inequality has only given rise to protest groups such as Occupy Wall St that protested the rising inequality between the 1%
In the essay, “Richer and Poorer” written by Jill Lepore, and published in The New Yorker on March 16, 2015, the author discusses the income inequality in the United States and uses the rhetorical stages logos, ethos, and pathos as methods for trying to inform the educated middle class about the economic inequality and the effects on the individuals. Jill Lepore used various other sources to prove her point. Using the Gini Index, Lepore states that “income inequality is greater in the United States that in any other democracy in the developing world” (1). She goes on to give a few statistical points influencing her statement on how the inequality has increased throughout the decades. Including how in between 1975 and 1985, for U.S households from .397 to .419; compared to other countered such as Netherlands.
My identity has always felt inextricably linked to what Miami is. A city that is teeming with immigrants, a city with dreams stacked and slopped atop each other, and a city that is living proof of the failed American dream. I say so because of my early observation that generation after generation of immigrants often seemed to stay trapped in dead end jobs; I saw this within my own family – within my grandmother, my aunts and uncles, and even my cousins. Here it was even within my own family tree the deep implicit message that there was no way out of our socioeconomic level. When I made it into an Ivy League college, it was a message that was slowly re-enforced by the fact that my demographic was the most represented in the custodial staff rather than within my own classmates.
I used to have this grudges in my heart when everything go hard that would made me wanted to blame my parent. But I can’t because I was not raise to think that way. When I come to America, I was eleven years old and no one asked me if I wanted to come it just happen in a second. I was in a cold place with extended family that I never met before and that one person who raise me and made me feel secure was still back in the country. I had to lived months without her and next thing you know I adapted and convince myself they are doing this because the wanted the best for me.
On my father’s first day in America, he was shoved into a compact 1-person apartment along with two other refugees and was merely granted $19 a week to accommodate for basic expenses, including food and transportation. Despite such desperate circumstances, he maintained an optimistic outlook, and while hard times were ahead, my father knew that new opportunities were also awaiting him in the land where the American Dream thrives. My father initially left Vietnam as a last desperate hope to escape Vietnam’s strict communist government, where a future of military service was inevitable for young boys, who came from families of lower social statuses. As an orphan, my father fell victim to poverty and suffered from food insecurity and insufficient
In 2006 I moved to California with my parents, to pursue the American Dream that was dreamed by every foreigner It was seen as a great way to escape the danger and poverty we faced everyday in Peru. When we finally got here, the american dream was a myth, and working hard barely got you anywhere. Since day 1 both my parents have worked more than 40 hours a week to get food on the table, and the table back in Peru. They both support their parents and siblings financially, meaning there is no aid for me here. I wake up to do everything by myself, cook, clean, go to school, and especially homework.
What happened? Well, that’s really not difficult to explain. America once was the most respected, and admired, nation in the world. But then, suddenly, things began to change quite radically and, over a period of several decades, America went from being the most respected nation in the world to the most feared. Going from the most respected to the most feared is quite a feat, so how did such a transformation evolve?
In January 20, 1961 the famous words, “My fellow Americans ask not what your country can do for you- ask what you can do for your country,” were spoken by John F. Kennedy at his inaugural address. Fifty years later we see hunger, suffering, violence, tears, and a life full of sadness that many countries offer their people, but then we also see the many things some countries offer their people. America offers a lot to its people. We are offered a safe environment, access to the latest technology, free public education, some of the best foods, beautiful landscapes, some of the best colleges and universities in the world. There are many people in the world who wish to live in a country like America, for this reason America is considered the land
I remember the day when I landed in Charlottesville the place that I thought of as home. It was 17 August 2015. At first, this place felt so cozy and comfortable that I didn’t feel like leaving this place forever. The people were so welcoming; it was a treat to have chosen a college, which provides you a homely feel. If I remember it correctly, it was a warm Wednesday afternoon when I contemplated, is home the right place for me to grow?
As election time draws near, I can not help thinking more and more of my vision for America. Election time makes us think about our visions and our values, for our government, our nation, and maybe even ourselves, but our visions must always be in our minds. Without constant thought and hard work, visions cannot be fruitful. I envision the nation our founding fathers would have wanted to emerge from their efforts, a hopeful nation, blessed by God and enlivened by faith. America should protects every life, from conception to the grave.
It was the spring of 2012 when my plane landed on JFK Airport in New York, USA. The chilly breeze of April whispered “Welcome to America” into my ears. The moment that I felt my feet were not touching the ground of the Philippines anymore, made me think of what’s ahead of me: Will things be a lot better transitioning from my country to another? Am I going to be able to fit in? Where do i see myself here 5 years from now?
My identity was created when my parents wrote my name on my birth certificate in 1998. Not knowing anything, my parents decided to walk away from the Hmong tradition of giving their descendant a Hmong name and wanted to become more Americanized for the better of my future. They came to the conclusion of calling me Billy, which have no affiliation with being Hmong at all, being the first in the family to walk down this path. Being borned in the United States as the youngest child in my family and being, with my four older siblings, the first generation of Hmong-American, allows me to have a different life than I would in Laos. Since my childhood, my culture is influenced by the experiences and opportunities that had shaped me as the person
Wealth and Inequality in America Inequality The inequality in America has increased over time; the gap between the rich and the poor has become a problem that many Americans don’t see. Inequality is the extent of income which is distributed unequally among the citizenry. The inequality of the United has a large gap between the poor and the rich making it unfair to the population, the rich are becoming wealthier and the poor remain poor. The article “Of the 1%, By the 1%, For the 1%”, authored by Joseph E. Stiglitz describes that there is a 1 percent amount of American’s who are consuming about a quarter of the United States income in a year.
Growing up I always considered myself American. I never saw my family as foreigners or ever heard them with accents. I felt as though I grew up like every other American kid and lived a normal American life. Never in my youth had I understood what those around me perceived as foreign. Never in my youth had I thought outsiders may look at me and my family as foreign.
One of the greatest moments in my teenage life is getting my driver’s permit at the age of fifteen. On February 7, 2017, I went to the Department of Motor Vehicle to try for my driver’s permit in Hampton, South Carolina with my grandma. I always thought once I get my driver’s permit I would have freedom, but my freedom became exciting to disappointing. First, my grandma signed papers and give my personal information to the employee for registration.