Page 82 - Šolsko polje, XXVIII, 2017, no. 3-4: Education and the American Dream, ed. Mitja Sardoč
P. 82
šolsko polje, letnik xxviii, številka 3–4
ter than rural residents. And rural communities, predominately Republi-
can voters, worry more than Democrats that Christian values are under
assault.
Trump’s American Dream is very much like that of his father—Fred
Trump—who was the focus of a song written between 1950 and 1952, but
never recorded, by the legendary American folk singer, Woody Guthrie,
who was a major influence on Bob Dylan. During that time Fred Trump
was Guthrie’s landlord, when Guthrie moved into the exclusively white
Beach Haven public housing complex, near Coney Island, after return-
ing from his World War II service in the Merchant Marine. Here is how
the song opens:
I suppose
Old Man Trump knows
Just how much
Racial Hate
he stirred up
In the bloodpot of human hearts
When he drawed
That color line
Here at his
Eighteen hundred family project (Cited in Moyer, 2016)
Later, in 1954, Fred Trump would be investigated by a U.S. Senate
committee for profiteering from public contracts. Old Man Trump also
refused to sell homes to blacks. That his son, Donald Trump, has been ac-
cused of racial discrimination in operating his properties should come as
no surprise. Clearly, with Trump, America wants its empire back. Forget
multilaterialism and globalization since, in the eyes of Trump and his sup-
porters, such twin evils have taken everything away from America’s white
working class.
Over the past year Americans from all social class fractions, but es-
pecially white constituencies, rewarded Trump with frenzied, awe-struck
receptions to his presence in sports stadiums packed to suffocating ca-
pacity. The intensity of this reception is unprecedented, only matched by
the vileness and viciousness of Trump’s speeches. His supporters wait for
hours in long lines that snake around city blocks in order to be able to
be close to their savior, a billionaire real estate tycoon, playboy and foul-
mouthed reality television star. Admixed with trepidation and barn burn-
ing enthusiasm, crowds seemed to absorb his energy as he circles the stage,
as if animated by a giant solenoid, their cult-like devotion rising to a per-
verse crescendo of hate-filled delirium baited by the promises of a man
80
ter than rural residents. And rural communities, predominately Republi-
can voters, worry more than Democrats that Christian values are under
assault.
Trump’s American Dream is very much like that of his father—Fred
Trump—who was the focus of a song written between 1950 and 1952, but
never recorded, by the legendary American folk singer, Woody Guthrie,
who was a major influence on Bob Dylan. During that time Fred Trump
was Guthrie’s landlord, when Guthrie moved into the exclusively white
Beach Haven public housing complex, near Coney Island, after return-
ing from his World War II service in the Merchant Marine. Here is how
the song opens:
I suppose
Old Man Trump knows
Just how much
Racial Hate
he stirred up
In the bloodpot of human hearts
When he drawed
That color line
Here at his
Eighteen hundred family project (Cited in Moyer, 2016)
Later, in 1954, Fred Trump would be investigated by a U.S. Senate
committee for profiteering from public contracts. Old Man Trump also
refused to sell homes to blacks. That his son, Donald Trump, has been ac-
cused of racial discrimination in operating his properties should come as
no surprise. Clearly, with Trump, America wants its empire back. Forget
multilaterialism and globalization since, in the eyes of Trump and his sup-
porters, such twin evils have taken everything away from America’s white
working class.
Over the past year Americans from all social class fractions, but es-
pecially white constituencies, rewarded Trump with frenzied, awe-struck
receptions to his presence in sports stadiums packed to suffocating ca-
pacity. The intensity of this reception is unprecedented, only matched by
the vileness and viciousness of Trump’s speeches. His supporters wait for
hours in long lines that snake around city blocks in order to be able to
be close to their savior, a billionaire real estate tycoon, playboy and foul-
mouthed reality television star. Admixed with trepidation and barn burn-
ing enthusiasm, crowds seemed to absorb his energy as he circles the stage,
as if animated by a giant solenoid, their cult-like devotion rising to a per-
verse crescendo of hate-filled delirium baited by the promises of a man
80
