My “American Dream” is attainable. This statement is only partially true. Had I not left my small town in Georgia to join the Navy, putting my physical and mental health up for sale to the military industrial complex, I would not hold the same opinion.
I am the son and grandson of millworkers, and my family members further back in time either mined copper, served in the military, or made moonshine. That is all they could do, and it speaks to the idea that a small town like mine can trap a person.
Imagine you were a plant. You were planted too close to the sprouts around you, and now that harvest season is here, the farmer comes to pull you from the soil, but they can’t, because your roots have tied themselves to every other plant in the garden. The only way to move on is to painstakingly untangle yourself, or to cut the roots entirely.
