Kylie Grunsfeld, Staff Columnist
In America we are encouraged to work toward a six-figure salary, marriage, a few kids and a nice house in a suburban neighborhood — all protected by a white picket fence to keep our family in and others out.
This country is built to isolate us as we age and we are not taught how to cope with that loneliness. Instead, we are taught how to earn, spend and save money. But it is on the individual to develop a support system, and nothing — not our work or school schedules, nor our cities’ infrastructures — are created with this in mind.
For example — our culture considers a car an extremely aspirational asset. People save up for years to purchase one; some even give their vehicles more attention than their children. But since the invention and popularization of cars, there’s been a decline in walkable cities and, consequentially, an increase in isolation.
If everything we needed was constructed within a reasonable distance — the grocery store, work, school — we could abandon cars and walk to our destinations. This one lifestyle change would open thousands of new doors for fostering connections with those around us. But when profit is the ultimate goal, what incentive is there to make this a reality?
By now the traditional idea of the American dream is widely regarded as a fallacy. It tells us that we should want success, power and money, even if it makes us lonely, selfish and dissatisfied.
So what should we aspire to in its place?
The answer is always community.
If growing Americans were taught that human connection is the key to happiness, I guarantee that we, as a country, would look a lot different. Our mindsets would not be so individualistic. Our instincts would no longer be to think of the disadvantages in helping others — the time we might lose, the inconvenience. Instead, helping our neighbors would simply be another way to feel close to the people around us.
Somewhere along the line, maximizing productivity to maximize profit became the typical way to spend a lifetime. Putting hard work into building strong relationships has fallen on the average American’s list of priorities — time itself has become a commodity. Time spent accompanying a friend to a doctor’s appointment is seen, by many, as time wasted.
But part of community building is giving precious minutes to others, even if you may not see an immediate benefit. Even if you receive nothing tangible in return.
When you consider the world’s happiest countries — Finland, Denmark, Iceland, Sweden, Costa Rica and the Netherlands, for example — a pattern emerges. Their people do not see work and gaining riches as the most important part of life. There is more of an emphasis on slowness, connection to nature and, of course, affordable health care.
Decentering money-related success opens up your life to real, non-material joys. As individuals, we ought to consider whether the path we see for ourselves is aligned with what we actually want or what our culture has conditioned us to want.
Having enough income to live on is crucial, but are we seeking riches for the sake of living comfortably or are we trying to satiate an unending hunger? Is it so we can support ourselves or so we can achieve status and power?
I do not dream of living in a mansion with too many rooms for me to reasonably occupy. I do not dream of fancy vacations or a brand new car or a bag full of Apple products — I dream of people to share my life with.
Unfortunately, living in America forces people to get creative in order to reach these humbler dreams. Third spaces are sparse, jobs are all-consuming and many people are just too tired to be social when the work day is over. But as long as we collectively understand the importance of prioritizing community, I have hope that love will prevail.