Today, it feels as though both Democrats and Republicans have given up on the American Dream entirely.

The Trump administration has made every effort to stop the immigrants that the American Dream was supposed to support. It has ramped up bans on visas for certain countries and detained nonviolent migrants in the United States. At the same time, many moderate Democratic officials have warmed up to immigration restrictions in the wake of their 2024 defeat. For instance, Neera Tanden, the president and CEO of the Center for American Progress, a Democratic think tank, claimed that previous Democratic border policy had “allowed too many people to come through and that we need to fix that.”

Anyone who believes in our nation’s historic dream seems increasingly alone. This is especially true for millennials and Gen Z, who are less likely to believe in the achievability of the American Dream than their older counterparts.

According to a poll from YouGov, 52 percent of Gen Z believe the American Dream is at least somewhat attainable, as compared to the 60 percent of baby boomers and 53 percent of Gen X. However, in the same poll, Gen Z and millennials were more likely to say that it does not exist at all, not just that it was unattainable.

Our generation never found the sort of faith in the American Dream that older generations had. But this rising lack of hope has allowed me to see the American Dream in an entirely new light — not as an existing promise, but as a national goal.

The American democracy has historically been described as an “experiment” by figures like George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. Just as how we can always improve our democracy, we can always move closer to the goal of having a country that anyone can come to and find success, even if we will never achieve a perfect version of either. This is why we still need the American Dream.

For many in Gen Z, their first engagement with politics came during the first Trump administration, when asylum-seeking families were being separated and the existence of widespread racism in our country became undeniable in the face of growing police brutality toward Black Americans. In this era, the idea that America was a place bright with hope where anyone could come and succeed seemed laughable.

Many young people hoped that the following Biden administration would restore this more hopeful idea, but we continued to see deportations and insufficient police reform.

However, slowed progress does not mean the American Dream has to remain a fantasy. I am confident that many people of our generation, including those reading this, agree with me even if they do not know it. I have personally seen many of those who write off the American Dream as a silly baby boomer fantasy still fight for the ideals at its foundation.

Young social justice activists fight to remove the inequalities that hinder the happiness and success of Americans. They work to eliminate racial inequality that entrenches poverty and endangers the lives of minority groups. They work to advocate for the rights of LGBTQ+ individuals, ensuring that everyone can live their lives and express themselves in the way they choose. They work to fight climate change, which threatens to rob us of achieving the same prosperity as previous generations.

All of these causes, and many more, are united by the same familiar idea that every person, regardless of their life circumstances, is entitled to the same opportunity to achieve success and happiness. In other words, the American Dream is the unifying idea that young progressives fight for.

Any young activist can recall being shunned by figures of authority for being an “out-of-touch radical.” The young people today who fight for transgender rights and economic justice are told just as frequently of the impracticality of their ideas as those who fought for abolition, civil rights or gay marriage in the past.

For some, the American Dream manifests more clearly than for others. My father immigrated to this country from Ireland when he was young and worked tirelessly to bring himself up and provide for his family. His story has inspired me for my entire life, and I find it infuriating that some others do not have the same chance as him due to their race or country of origin.

I also think of the story of my boyfriend’s parents, who left Kazakhstan after the dissolution of the Soviet Union. If he were born there instead of in the United States, he would have faced stigma and inequality due to his sexuality.

And I know I am far from the only one with stories like these. Countless Americans fight to end poverty, inequality and stigma today because their lives are built on the fruit of the American Dream. I, and countless others who believe in these ideals, will never stop working to build a nation where they are truly and fully realized for native-born Americans and immigrants alike.

In times where success and progress seem impossible, I like to remind myself that we are all the latest in a long line of dreamers fighting for the same historic principles.

Kevin O’Connell is a sophomore majoring in political science. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial. 

However, the change I noticed the most was in the community. Walking around campus, I see people out on the grass reading, studying or hanging out with friends. Some sit outside to eat while others play sports on outdoor courts. College campuses are designed to be more social, with amenities and housing all local and walkable.

This atmosphere is my favorite part of my new life as a college student. It’s always a joy to bump into a friend at the dining hall or to join someone for a game at a Late Nite event.

Our social campus is in stark contrast to my hometown suburb. The only “outdoor court” where people played was a lone basketball net on one side of the street, where neighborhood children regularly had to stop their game to wait for a car passing by. Part of me always felt bad that those kids didn’t have a better place to play, especially when I was the one driving by.

However, I never really considered another option. I figured, “Someone had built this suburb, people like to live here, that’s how it is and that’s how it will be.” I never fully considered the alternative, thinking that the online digital world of today left everyone isolated in their homes instead of being out in the community.

Many label this phenomenon among our generation as the Generation Z “loneliness epidemic,” describing how convenience has taken precedence over valuable social interaction. In other words, the simplicity of online interactions, with others or even AI programs, is easier and more attractive than a complicated in-person relationship. I’ve definitely experienced this, spending too many nights on YouTube or gaming rather than forming a good friend group like many of my peers.

I’ve started to wonder if the way we live and organize our communities contributes to this. Any teenager who has lived in a suburb can describe how finding a neutral space to hang out is a burden. Most suburban towns lack attractive spaces for young people to spend time together.

For those lucky enough to live in an area with good options, the limited financial resources of teenagers create an additional problem. Even if one has access to the necessary car and gas money to leave the neighborhood, restaurants and malls cost even more. This same price problem is worsened in cities, where goods can be even costlier.

So what do we do instead? We visit each other’s homes, where a TV or video game usually lies in wait to distract us from each other.

College campuses avoid this issue with their public amenities. Even the most cash-strapped students can relax on the lawn with a friend or join a game of basketball, pushing us outside into richer conversational activities or active outdoor ones.

Now, the solution to this cannot be to just send everyone to college. College is expensive for many and only provides around four years of socialization before one ends up in the isolated outside world again.

But imagine if our communities at home could take a page from campuses. Wouldn’t it be nice if there were a full volleyball court right by your house, or if you didn’t have to get in your car to grab a cup of coffee? Wouldn’t you be more inclined to meet your friends if your meeting place were a minute’s walk away?

This could also help with our financial issues. Free public amenities like sports fields or swimming pools are much easier on the wallet than a shopping trip, and imagine all the gas money you’d save! Our social isolation will not be fixed overnight, but removing some of these barriers can make hanging out a more attractive option than spending the afternoon on our phones.

This is also not to say that adding more social spaces will magically fix our problems. No matter how many sports fields or coffee shops we make, it will still be our choice to leave the comfort of our beds. It will not be easy, with our endless technology and entertainment designed to keep us hooked and isolated.

But I believe that our generation can overcome this struggle. I finally joined a friend group in my hometown on a break from college, and I’m so grateful that I put in the work to really get to know them. These spaces can be our strike back against the anxiety-inducing apps that have taken over our lives.

But the onus to make the change is on us. We must be the ones to venture out. Social spaces will only be built if there is a demand for them, and that demand can only be created if we take the first step.

Kevin O’Connell is a freshman majoring in political science. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial. 

At the same time, I can’t help but feel cynical about nostalgia. Maybe my attitude isn’t fair, since going back to these old works of art I’ve enjoyed is a huge comfort. If you look at the way the outside world uses nostalgia, however, you’ll see what I mean.

If you’ve been in a movie theater recently or perused any streaming service, you’ve definitely been barraged with reboots and legacy sequels of classic films, especially nostalgic children’s movies. This year alone, we have Disney’s “Jurassic World Rebirth,” a live-action “Snow White,” “Lilo & Stitch,” “How to Train Your Dragon” and many more. The original 2002 “Lilo & Stitch” is one of my personal childhood favorites, and yet I harbor no excitement for the new film. The gorgeous animation that made the original so beloved has been replaced with soulless CGI and still, its marketing indicates nothing significant will be changed from the 2002 classic.

The remake’s style tells us exactly what it is: a product. These remakes do not seek to challenge us or make us think like other great films do — they seek to do the opposite. Rather than truly revisiting the story and connecting it to the present, the film replays our cozy memories of the original with perfectly recreated scenes. The only purpose behind these films is to take the dollars from our pockets instead of giving us a new experience to enjoy and learn from like the incredible original did.

In short, I hate nostalgia because it is too often weaponized against us, using our fuzzy childhood memories to sell us something while filling our theaters with reheated leftovers, not new classics to fall in love with.

The most baffling part of this new phenomenon is that the remake craze barely even makes successful products anymore. Disney’s 2023 remake of “The Little Mermaid” lost close to $5 million at the box office, and the recent “Snow White” remake’s failure caused the development of a “Tangled” remake to be stalled. At the same time, a movement of Generation Z cinephiles has emerged following the pandemic, flocking to rereleases of films from before our time and bringing in millions of dollars to independent studios and distributors.

Many in our generation have resisted the call of nostalgic cash grabs, but that does not stop them from flooding our theaters.

As obnoxious as these soulless remakes are, the impact of nostalgia on politics has been far more destructive. The most terrible impacts of the recent administration can be linked back to a nostalgic return to the past. This goes so far as the president’s slogan, encouraging voters to “Make America Great Again” with a return to a past they are nostalgic about.

Recently, the government has implemented tariffs on about 90 nations in an effort to bring back the manufacturing jobs that defined America in the mid-20th century. This counters the fact that only one in four Americans would prefer a manufacturing job to their current one.

Before the election, Donald Trump also promised to “stop crime and restore safety,” which has taken effect in the form of “mistakenly” sending a legal resident “mistakenly” to a prison camp in El Salvador and deporting university students for expressing speech counter to our current government’s beliefs. The president invokes nostalgia to violate basic civil liberties, using a vague and shifting fondness for the past as a weapon to increase his own power.

Nostalgia is a powerful force in politics. It appeals to a general better past, allowing politicians to fill in the blanks with their policies as people nod along to the sentiment that things used to be better. We see the danger of this in the present, with “Make America Great Again” used as a precursor to actions that go against our foundational values of free speech and the wishes of the American public.

This is the force that makes nostalgia dangerous. Nostalgia is also selective — it appeals to the positive parts of the past but not the entire truth. It stifles our society with yesterday’s art and yesterday’s solutions, ones that have far less value in today’s society with today’s problems.

There’s nothing at all wrong with being nostalgic, with cozying up with an old favorite book or movie to revisit some positive memories. On this individual level, it can be a wonderful thing. However, nostalgia is a force that leaves us weakened when it is leveraged on all of society at once, rendering our memories impersonal and up for grabs. By going after our vague and collective fuzzy memories, corporations and politicians alike win money and support without earning it.

Our fond memories may bring us comfort, comfort that is then cynically destroyed for profit or power. Instead, we can look to the future, create works of art that respond to modern issues and support those with forward-thinking solutions to them. This is what allows society to move forward rather than fall into the trap of hopelessly chasing yesterday.

Kevin O’Connell is a freshman majoring in political science.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial. 

In the world of “The Matrix,” a political figure would never be able to openly decry the simulation on stage — so what did Musk mean?

Musk is not even the only right-wing figure to reference the film. Andrew Tate, a self-proclaimed misogynist and influencer, has also proclaimed himself a “victim” of the Matrix and began selling an online course called “The Real World” to help men “escape.” Even before that, right-wingers have invoked “The Matrix” term “red pill” to refer to their conservative awakening, a reference to a famous scene in which the protagonist Neo ingests a red pill that allows him to see the world around him for what it is. The term has also garnered specifically misogynistic connotations, with subreddit r/TheRedPill being equated with the “manosphere” — hinged on male supremacy, anti-feminism and sexual difference.

So why does the right identify so much with the film? What does invoking these references mean for the ideologies and influence of these essential figures?

Their allusions may seem innocent at first, akin to brave actors fighting against a corrupt government or society. But under the surface, comparisons like these lay the groundwork for an openly fascist society where critical thinking falls to the wayside of dogma from charismatic leaders. In his essay “Ur-Fascism,” Italian philosopher Umberto Eco defines fascism with 14 essential elements, many of which are echoed in right-wing Matrix rhetoric. Eco warns against the “obsession with a plot,” in which fascists will stoke fear in society with claims of an internal threat. Musk claimed he was “screwing with things that are not supposed to be messed with” in his fight against the Matrix, spreading the idea that there was some corrupt internal government force threatening America, though it’s definitely not him.

In reality, Musk’s DOGE has mainly targeted federal humanitarian aid and garnered controversy for illegally accessing Americans’ sensitive data. Musk painted programs he disagreed with as threatening to bolster his image when no real threat existed. Tate is also guilty of this self-righteousness. After the Florida government announced its investigation into Tate for alleged trafficking and abuse of women, Tate tweeted, “The Matrix is attacking me.” In other words, he alludes to a fabricated conspiracy against him — the alleged victim — to maintain support as his horrific crimes are being uncovered.

Both men use “The Matrix” analogies to garner support, painting themselves as lone heroic figures battling against secretive forces of evil buried internally that only they can recognize. In reality, they seek solely to further their own goals.

Another crucial point Eco makes is that fascists will paint an enemy that is “at the same time too strong and too weak.” This is made explicit by Musk referencing the film at the conference. He characterizes the threat as it is in the film: a giant and inescapable conspiracy. However, he is able to fight against it with only a small group of employees. The “conspiracy” he is fighting against is both a deep conspiracy that has secretly defined the rules of government for a long time and one that can be easily “deleted” by him being in office, “screwing” around and cutting government budgets. And this “secret conspiracy” has always made its actions — specifically DOGE’s domain, government spending — public.

The power of Musk’s opposing force changes depending on what he needs to convince people of, a clue that we should not take his assessment seriously.

Both Musk and Tate also use film terminology to make arguments that make them guilty of Eco’s definition of George Orwell’s “Newspeak.” This is a language that encourages an impoverished vocabulary. With limited terminology, listeners are discouraged from thinking critically about what leaders are saying and vocalizing concerns. Likewise, while Musk and Tate characterize their enemies as simply the shortcut “the Matrix,” they can scare the public without elaborating on the actual threat or providing evidence. They neither go into specifics on what the threat they are facing is or why it is dangerous to us, instead characterizing it as a scary movie villain many are familiar with — one whose entire power rests on its indefinability and inability to be pointed at on a map.

By practicing “Newspeak,” the audience is encouraged to assess whatever group Musk or Tate is targeting based on the cultural perception of the movie villain rather than actual evidence of the threat’s existence. It also serves to trivialize real issues like corruption, turning them into power fantasies initiated by charismatic figures to avoid actual fixes in favor of entrenching their own popularity. Following this logic, either person could claim a group is The Matrix and go after them with public support without ever needing to substantiate their claim, a dangerously slippery slope.

People connect with the film’s story because it gives them hope of resistance in a world where they are powerless. The heroes of the film still triumph even when their whole reality is against them. If we see ourselves as Neo, then any threat seems beatable. This can be true for any of us. But “red-pilled” men may feel compelled to take on the film’s terminology in their fight against the cultural force of feminism, which is much more difficult to fight than a politician or organization, painting themselves and their beliefs as a noble, against-all-odds cause.

However, we as citizens must be wary of these types of arguments and references. Anyone can ironically use comparisons like these to “The Matrix” or anything else as a manipulation tactic. This is not to say that Elon Musk or Andrew Tate are perfect exemplars of fascist ideology, but in a time of misinformation and fear, it is more important than ever to pay close attention to those using fearmongering to get us to follow their lead, especially those in power.

Or maybe I’m just working for the Matrix. I would be saying all of this then, wouldn’t I?

Kevin O’Connell is a freshman majoring in political science.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial. 

However, I didn’t have as much time to focus on that as I did before when I decided to take a remote class called Video Games and World Politics for credit. Many of my assignments had me analyze a video game called Sid Meier’s Civilization VI, which tasks the player with selecting a historical leader and developing their society from ancient history to the present. It plays almost like a board game, with players taking turns to explore the map, build up their cities, make scientific and cultural advancements and interact with other civilizations through peace and war.

When we look at the issues that have stretched from the past to the present, it is easy to see history as the long story of people trying to kill each other because of differences or because they were more concerned with their own wealth and power rather than the good of society. Playing the game taught me that it is reductive to say there is only one version of history. The simplest view of history only looks at massively impactful wars against countries, groups of people or ideologies, while the more complete view offered by the game shows how far we have come with culture and technology.

Through gameplay with a large scope, years and eras pass in the blink of an eye. The focus is removed from the day-to-day political squabbles and fears we are bombarded with today and instead is placed on human progress: sending construction workers to build cities for the benefit of the public, making strides in science and technology, testing new systems of government. All of these are innovations that have been happening since the days of cavemen and will continue to happen far into the future. This does not mean the game was without moments of crisis and panic, but the world was never bare of those who used their ingenuity to make the world a better place.

And these innovations are not the responsibility of the leader — they are brought about by the rest of society. Artists make important works that inspire and unite people. Writers tell moving stories or challenge popular philosophical ideas. Scientists study the world so that we can all live easier lives. Inventors unlock our potential with new technology. Using history, Civilization VI tells us that we are all important. Each one of us, through the things we study as students or the jobs we take in society, contributes to the larger human project. This is where our true power in society comes from. Even if we don’t like our political leadership or live in turmoil, we will always have the ability to think, work, dream and innovate in the name of a better tomorrow. The political moment we are in is frightening by design, but its operators use fear in hopes that we will forget our agency and bend to their will. The nonstop march of history in the game showed me that those in the past didn’t let the political order stop them and neither should we.

When we look only at the present, falling into the trap of hopelessness seems inevitable. The easiest response to all of the pain, suffering and turmoil we witness daily is to shut our eyes and accept that the world is coming to an end. I’ve lived much of my life in this way, ignoring my own agency and waiting for the civil war or climate change hurricane to arrive at my doorstep. But this game taught me to think differently. Every one of us makes up the next chapter of the beautiful story of humanity, the same one that began with the ancient tribesmen I saw on my computer screen when I started playing. Since then, countless visionaries have dedicated themselves to making meaning in our lives and shaping the world for future generations. It is now up to us to continue their work, to meet the challenges of today just as they and everyone who came after them have done.

More than ever, I am confident that the human race can rise to the challenges of today. My gameplay matched all the incredible moments of our history — the parts where we embraced knowledge and enlightenment, pioneered free and democratic systems of government, cured countless diseases and launched ourselves into space. Each day, we move closer and closer to the next great innovation, one that will come from the sum of all of our work today. So if you ever feel like the world is coming apart before you, remember what those who came before you achieved what seemed impossible, remember the potential of our species to fix every problem that comes our way and remember that we all have the power to build the better future we dream of now.

Video games can do a lot for us. Some use them as an escape into worlds of fantasy, some treat them as activities to keep up with friends and some analyze them as works of art to better understand the world around them. Civilization VI showed me something real: the history of our species. At the same time, it showed me the dream that we have the power to make the world we live in better, as though we were indeed pushing all the buttons. This dream was shared with all the dreamers of the past and all of you today. It is something I’ve always believed in — I just needed a reminder that it is possible.

So keep your chin up. Keep thinking, keep dreaming, keep challenging the status quo. Maybe play some video games, they can do a lot more for you than you would think.

Kevin O’Connell is a freshman majoring in political science. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial.