The American Dream and the Cost of Relentless Aspiration
The American Dream narrative that imbues our daily professional lives and aspirations calls for us to work hard, sacrifice and overcome difficult circumstances so that we can climb the ladder of opportunity.
That’s all well and good. But we’re not just admonished to surmount obstacles as we reach for the brass ring. Not by a long shot.
We have to “suck it up,” i.e., not complain.
We must “take one for the team,” i.e., sacrifice ourselves or our family time for the greater good.
We have to “put our noses to the grindstone,” i.e., work harder.
We must “pay our dues,” i.e., work harder for longer.
All told, we must accept our lot and recognize that, in work as in life, “no pain, no gain.”
How did we get here?
How did professional success come to depend so much upon on deprivation and deferred gratification?
Why don’t more of us rebel against a system that continues to exalt values and behaviors that often hurt our relationships and our mental health?
** ** **
In fact, we may finally be seeing some effective pushback against the entrenched approach to the work/life balance and, importantly, some recognition that the pushback is justified.
As a result of quarantines, isolation, illness and myriad other impacts of the coronavirus pandemic, more of us are feeling freer to express the challenges of simply getting by, whether it’s childcare or team meetings, grocery shopping or zooming, dressing for the office or getting dressed at all. And where once it was considered a sign of weakness to rest at all, more of us are taking the time we need to practice self-care, in itself a phrase that didn’t even exist several years ago except perhaps on the margins of water cooler discussions.
Top-ranked tennis star Naomi Osaka recently withdrew from the French Open tennis championships, citing depression and mental fatigue. In fact, Osaka had first expressed her intention to refuse to appear at required press conferences and interview availabilities, since the process of relentless and repetitive negative questioning was causing her to doubt herself and her own strength. In the end, faced with hefty fines and disqualification, she decided to withdraw.
Osaka’s decision and the tournament’s subsequent soul-searching underscores an important point. People are … well, people. We are not indestructible. We are not immune to relentless volleys of negativity and pressure. We do feel the battering.
Eventually, whether you are ranked first in the world or just beginning to make your way in it, life takes its toll.
The sooner we recognize that what used to be called “human frailty” is really just humanity, the sooner we will begin to place the values that we say are most important — compassion, kindness, generosity, dignity, respect — on the same pedestal with dedication, hard work and sacrifice.
And we, and the workplace, will be better for it.
