The Singing and Crying of the American Dream

It was once told that America is singing, and that you can hear the resonating echo of its people’s dreams coming true. However, the singing seems to be absent now.
Instead, America cries. It cries as the façade that is false hope vanquishes the dreams of people and leaves them to linger on. Contrary, to what Whitman said, I believe that
America is not singing, in fact, it is crying. Long ago, Whitman stated that he could hear America sing. He thought that in the harmonious land of the free, every man and woman would live out their dreams. Each able to flourish economically, and lead peaceful, happy lives. Such is the
American Dream; a pleasant thought that provides a sense of hope. Yet when dreams die, it may have been better to have not hoped at all. Decades ago, my father and his family ventured to America, poor without a cent to their name, in hopes that they might find success in the melting pot of equal chances, that is America. They left their home in the Philippines clinging to the figment that is the
American dream. They thought, perhaps in America, the future would hold happiness
And perfect opportunities. Maybe they could sing in America, like Whitman promised. My father set on the path towards his American Dream, hoping to sing with the others. After years and years of struggling to pay through school, my father became an architect. My father worked for seventeen years, loyal and devoted to his employer. Maybe Whitman could hear him sing, briefly. Loyalty and devotion however, meant nothing when he was laid off. After facing unemployment, my father was crushed and began to suffer. Unable to fully support his family, he developed a sense of worthlessness that destroyed the man he once was. Living on by a thread, he grew bitter, angry, irrational, and isolated. He has not spoken a word to me in years.