I
am an American who has grown increasingly disenchanted with "the
American story." Everyone seems to have one. As evidenced by the
biography-laden speeches at the Republican National Convention, John
McCain and Sarah Palin are running an entire campaign on the promise
of the power of personal narrative: McCain's tenure as a POW; Palin's
"hockey-mom" origins and moose-hunting proclivities; and, of
course, their opponent's supposedly inferior narrative, his
insufficiently American, American story.
The
Republican candidates' crass deployment of identity politics is
depressing; their attempt to lay claim to "true American
patriotism" unsurprising at best. But we mustn't forget that "the
American story" is a theme
embraced by the Democrats as well, and that the effect of their
narratives is equally problematic. Barack Obama has the single
mother, Michelle Obama has the city-worker father, Joe Biden has the
commute from Wilmington to Washington, D.C. They're blue-collar,
hardworking, working-class, value-filled folks. Their parents pulled
themselves up by the bootstraps. Their successes are proof of the
endurance of the American dream.
I don't mean to mock the Obamas or Biden or dismiss their remarkable
personal narratives. Nor do I deny that each has made what Michelle
Obama memorably called "an improbable journey." But I do want to
call into question the way these narratives are deployed, the
language used to tell their tales of triumph, and the erasures that
happen when we allow a single, limited version of "the American
story" to become the template for all Americans.
Ragini
Tharoor Srinivasan graduated summa cum laude from Duke University
with a major in Literature. She is the Managing Editor of India
Currents, a California-based monthly magazine in circulation since
1987.
