Tag: history

  • How a Zip Code Became a Retirement Plan

    How a Zip Code Became a Retirement Plan

    When my students and I discuss wealth inequality in America, I tell them to stop looking at abstract charts and start looking at real estate. Wealth has many hiding places, but its favorite address is prime property in desirable zip codes. If you want to know who has money, look at who owns the houses everyone else wants but cannot afford.

    Some people inherit these advantages. Others stumble into them through timing. My wife and I are not rich, but in 2002 we purchased a house in Southern California for $450,000 in a neighborhood perpetually described by realtors with the same reverential phrase: “a shortage of inventory.” There are always more buyers than homes. The schools receive high ratings. The tax base is stable. Crime exists, as it does everywhere, but burglaries and auto thefts are footnotes rather than defining features of daily life.

    Over the years, that shortage of inventory became a wealth-generation machine. Today our house could sell for roughly three times what we paid for it. My wife is fifty. I am sixty-four. In about a year, our mortgage will disappear entirely. We did not achieve this outcome through extraordinary brilliance. We happened to buy at a particular moment in history and then stayed put. Age, timing, and geography worked together like silent business partners.

    That reality grants us a degree of financial power that younger generations often do not possess. We are not unusual. Millions of older Americans are sitting atop appreciating assets that have quietly transformed them into members of an accidental property aristocracy.

    The disparity between older and younger Americans has become so pronounced that it may represent the deepest fault line in contemporary American life. This tension forms the backdrop of Joshua Rothman’s essay “Are Americans Too Old?” in which he examines historian Samuel Moyn’s provocative argument that the defining conflict of our era is not between left and right, labor and capital, or urban and rural Americans, but between the young and the old.

    In Gerontocracy in America, Moyn argues that the nation’s character is increasingly shaped not by people in their youth or prime but by those in the final third of life. A less academic translation of the title might simply be: Rule of the Old.

    The demographic trends are difficult to ignore. Americans are having fewer children. People are living longer. The traditional age pyramid is slowly morphing into what Rothman describes as a “top-heavy trapezoid.” In 1920, fewer than five percent of Americans were over sixty-five. By 2060, roughly one-quarter of the population will be.

    Meanwhile, many of the most visible positions of political power remain occupied by people old enough to remember rotary phones, three-network television, and cigarette ads featuring physicians. Younger Americans often feel as though they have been handed a bill for a party they never attended.

    The American Dream once followed a familiar script: go to college, get a job, buy a house, build a family, accumulate wealth. For many Boomers, that script worked remarkably well. To younger generations, however, it can seem as though the ladder was pulled up immediately after the Boomers reached the roof. Young adults today face soaring housing costs, burdensome debt, delayed family formation, and a labor market that often demands far more while offering far less.

    Yet Rothman identifies an irony at the heart of this story. Economically, America increasingly resembles a gerontocracy. Culturally, however, it remains obsessed with youth. The people who hold much of the wealth spend billions attempting not to look old. Every wrinkle is treated as a design flaw. Every gray hair becomes a problem to be solved. We celebrate youthful energy, youthful innovation, youthful disruption, and youthful beauty while entrusting enormous economic and political power to people collecting Social Security.

    The contradiction is almost comic. The nation is governed by senior citizens while being marketed to adolescents.

    Still, Rothman is skeptical of reducing America’s problems to a generational battle. He points to writer Nathan J. Robinson, who argues that Moyn is making a category mistake. The true divide is not primarily between old people and young people. It is between rich people and everyone else.

    Robinson notes that a relatively small slice of older Americans controls a disproportionate share of the nation’s wealth. Most seniors are not oligarchs lounging atop mountains of stock certificates. Wealth is not concentrated among the elderly as a class. It is concentrated among the wealthy as a class.

    That distinction matters.

    The retired schoolteacher living on a modest pension has little in common economically with a billionaire hedge-fund manager, even if both qualify for senior discounts at Denny’s.

    In the end, Rothman lands somewhere between the two positions. He agrees that older generations wield disproportionate political influence and that this imbalance deserves scrutiny. Yet he rejects the idea that America’s future should be framed as a generational war.

    After all, every generation is heading in the same direction. The young become middle-aged. The middle-aged become old. Time drafts all of us into the same army eventually.

    The challenge, then, is not to pit generations against one another but to create a society in which each generation can realistically pursue the promises that define the American Dream: economic security, good health, meaningful work, and a hopeful future.

    Otherwise, the dream becomes something stranger and far less noble—a competition to see who can pull the ladder up fastest.

  • When Evil Goes Viral

    When Evil Goes Viral

    In “Andrew Tate’s Empire of Abuse,” Heidi Blake examines the disturbing world built by influencer Andrew Tate and his brother Tristan from their base in a wealthy enclave north of Bucharest known as the American Village. What emerges is not merely a pornography business but an entire ideology. According to Blake’s reporting, the Tate brothers are accused of recruiting and exploiting women while simultaneously constructing an online empire designed to sell young men a vision of unrestrained power. Through a private network called the War Room, Tate promises liberation from what he describes as the imprisonment of conventional morality. In its place, he offers a creed of domination in which women become trophies, commodities, or servants to male desire. One woman’s experience illustrates the cruelty of this worldview. After recruiting her, Tate reportedly subjected her to humiliation, financed cosmetic procedures, and had the words “Tate Owned” tattooed on her body, branding another human being as though she were property.

    Tate’s worldview is so grotesque that it often feels less like reality than an abandoned screenplay rejected for lacking subtlety. Hollywood villains are usually granted complexity, vulnerability, or redeeming traits. Tate seems determined to eliminate all such nuances. He openly cultivates the image of a man who views empathy as weakness and domination as virtue. Yet what makes him truly alarming is not the extremity of his beliefs but the enthusiasm with which he markets them. Tate does not hide from accusations of evil. Instead, he recasts himself as a prophet. To his followers, he presents himself as a shepherd leading lost men toward a promised land of wealth, sexual conquest, and absolute freedom from moral restraint.

    The nightmare grows darker when one considers the size of his audience. Tate possesses what our culture increasingly values above wisdom, character, or integrity: clout. He commands a vast social-media following and uses it to promote a lifestyle assembled from luxury watches, cigars, supercars, conspicuous wealth, and an aggressively performative version of masculinity. His genius, if one can call it that, lies in understanding the mechanics of attention. In an age where visibility often substitutes for virtue, influence itself becomes evidence of success. The result is that millions of young men encounter Tate not as a fringe extremist but as a glamorous symbol of aspiration.

    Tate is also intensely political. He boasts of shifting the Overton window, expanding the boundaries of what can be publicly said and tolerated. In his telling, this is a triumph. In reality, it often resembles an effort to normalize ideas that were once regarded as beyond the pale. The objective is not simply to win arguments but to redefine the moral landscape itself, widening the escape hatch through which cruelty, misogyny, and contempt can pass into public life disguised as courage or authenticity.

    When Tate faced arrest on human-trafficking charges, he was defended by a collection of prominent allies and media figures who viewed him as useful to broader political and cultural battles. In a polarized age, alliances are increasingly forged not through shared principles but through shared enemies. The question ceases to be whether a person is decent and becomes whether that person can help advance a cause. Under such conditions, moral judgment is replaced by strategic calculation.

    It has often been said that shamelessness is a superpower. There is truth in that observation. Shame restrains. Conscience hesitates. Moral reflection slows us down. The shameless suffer from none of these inconveniences. They can say anything, excuse anything, and justify anything. But if shamelessness is a superpower, it is one purchased at a tremendous cost. To embrace figures like Tate is to announce that power matters more than virtue and influence more than decency. It is to make one’s bargain with the devil publicly visible.

    What Blake’s article ultimately reveals is not merely the story of Andrew Tate but the story of a culture increasingly intoxicated by clout. In a society obsessed with metrics, followers, engagement, and influence, visibility itself becomes a moral credential. The result is a world in which people who openly celebrate cruelty can become celebrities while those who practice humility and integrity are rewarded with obscurity. Tate thrives because he understands this reality better than most. He has discovered that in the attention economy, notoriety often pays better than goodness. The tragedy is not simply that men like Andrew Tate exist. The tragedy is that so many people have decided he is worth following.

  • The Astrology Queen and the Ghost Daughter

    The Astrology Queen and the Ghost Daughter

    In Rachel Syme’s “The Star-Crossed Recluse Who Brought Astrology to the Masses,” she examines the improbable rise of Linda Goodman, the woman who transformed astrology from a fringe curiosity into a cultural phenomenon. Before Goodman, astrology occupied the margins of American life, an embarrassing diversion for eccentrics and mystics. After Goodman, it became mainstream entertainment, a cosmic personality test for the masses. Her books sold tens of millions of copies by offering readers an irresistible promise: the universe had you in mind. Your zodiac sign explained your personality, your appearance, your virtues, your flaws, your romantic prospects, and perhaps even your destiny. Goodman didn’t merely sell astrology. She sold the comforting idea that the stars were paying attention.

    Syme argues that the strangeness of Goodman’s life is captured beautifully in Colurmey Ann LaFaive’s biography Follow the Signs: Searching for Linda Goodman, America’s Forgotten Astrology Queen. LaFaive first encountered Goodman as a teenager and adored her books. Yet the deeper she dug into her subject’s life, the more Goodman resisted easy admiration. She was not merely eccentric but genuinely perplexing. An oddball visionary, a successful entrepreneur, a seeker, and at times a deeply troubled woman, Goodman inhabited a reality in which ordinary boundaries between belief and fantasy seemed remarkably porous. Nowhere was this more evident than in her refusal to accept the death of her daughter Sally. Although authorities ruled the death a suicide, Goodman became convinced that her daughter remained alive somewhere in the world. Whatever fate had befallen the body found in the apartment, Goodman believed it belonged to someone else. The real Sally, she insisted, was still out there.

    Born Mary Alice Kemery in Morgantown, West Virginia, Goodman displayed an appetite for the mystical from an early age. She embraced occult ideas with enthusiasm, believing in fairies, druids, hidden wisdom, and unseen dimensions. After marrying, having two children, and divorcing, she supported herself as a single mother by hosting a radio program called Love Letters from Linda. There she read letters from soldiers separated from their loved ones and soothed listeners with a voice that projected warmth, reassurance, and hope. Long before she became an astrology celebrity, Goodman had already discovered a gift that would define her career: the ability to comfort anxious people.

    Her conversion to astrology occurred during her second marriage after reading a book on the subject. The experience altered the trajectory of her life. Goodman immersed herself in astrology, teaching herself how to construct charts and interpret celestial patterns. She began offering consultations in Manhattan, and demand for her services steadily grew. Then, in the late 1960s, she published Linda Goodman’s Sun Signs. The book became a runaway bestseller and effectively launched mainstream astrology into American popular culture. Goodman had discovered a formula as powerful as it was profitable: tell people that the cosmos has a special explanation for who they are, and they will eagerly listen.

    Success, however, did not bring stability. After divorcing her second husband and moving to Cripple Creek, Colorado, Goodman received the devastating news of Sally’s death in Manhattan. From that moment forward, her life took on the quality of a fever dream. Faced with a suicide note and evidence that convinced everyone else, Goodman remained unmoved. The body was not Sally’s, she insisted, but a double. Dreams convinced her she alone understood the truth. She wandered Manhattan in a state of near delirium, sleeping on the steps of St. Patrick’s Cathedral and pleading with detectives to reopen the case. Eventually she hired a man claiming to be a former CIA agent and pursued leads in Maine, where Sally had once acted. The investigation grew increasingly bizarre, culminating in confrontations with Sally’s former associates and threats designed to silence anyone who questioned Goodman’s theory.

    It is here that LaFaive’s biography becomes most compelling. Rather than offering a reverential portrait of a beloved cultural icon, she confronts the contradictions that made Goodman both fascinating and troubling. Goodman was capable of extraordinary intuition and extraordinary self-deception. She brought comfort to millions while remaining unable to accept devastating truths in her own life. LaFaive ultimately concludes that her book is, in some sense, a failure because she could not construct a neat, unified theory of Linda Goodman. Yet Syme suggests that this failure is precisely what makes the biography succeed. Goodman remains elusive, contradictory, and mysterious. She emerges not as a saint, a fraud, or a visionary, but as something more interesting: a deeply human figure whose life, like the constellations she loved to interpret, resists being connected into a perfectly coherent pattern.

  • Moral Absolutism vs. Moral Relativism in the Age of OnlyFans (college essay prompt)

    Moral Absolutism vs. Moral Relativism in the Age of OnlyFans (college essay prompt)

    The subscription platform OnlyFans has become one of the most controversial features of the digital economy. Supporters argue that it gives creators greater control over their labor, income, and personal brand while allowing consumers to purchase content from consenting adults. Critics argue that the platform commodifies intimacy, encourages emotional manipulation, weakens traditional moral norms, and profits from loneliness and social dysfunction.

    One way to understand this debate is through the conflict between moral absolutism and moral relativism. Moral absolutists argue that some actions are inherently right or wrong regardless of circumstances, consequences, or cultural changes. From this perspective, OnlyFans is morally problematic because it encourages the commercialization of sexuality, undermines values such as fidelity and honesty, and profits from emotional and relational vulnerabilities. Moral relativists, however, argue that moral judgments must be understood within specific social, economic, and cultural contexts. From this perspective, creators and subscribers are autonomous adults making voluntary choices in response to changing economic realities, technological developments, and evolving social norms.

    In a 1,200-word argumentative essay, develop a thesis that evaluates whether the moral absolutist or moral relativist perspective provides the more convincing interpretation of OnlyFans. You may defend one position, critique one position, or argue that the reality is more complex than either framework fully captures.

    As you develop your argument, consider questions such as: Is OnlyFans primarily a form of exploitation or a form of economic empowerment? Does the platform provide meaningful opportunities for autonomy and entrepreneurship, or does it encourage the commodification of intimacy and human relationships? To what extent are creators and subscribers exercising free choice, and to what extent are their decisions shaped by loneliness, economic pressures, social isolation, or broader cultural forces? Should morality be grounded in timeless principles, or should moral judgments adapt to changing social and economic conditions?

    Your essay should present a clear thesis, analyze the assumptions behind both moral absolutism and moral relativism, address at least one counterargument, and explain why your interpretation offers the most persuasive understanding of the ethical questions raised by OnlyFans and the modern digital economy.

  • Who Controls the Story Controls the People (college essay prompt)

    Who Controls the Story Controls the People (college essay prompt)

    The documentary We Beat the Dream Team suggests that history is not merely a collection of facts but a contest over narrative power. The film explores how individuals and groups compete to shape public memory, define legitimacy, claim symbolic victory, and control the stories that future generations will remember. Although the documentary focuses on sports, it demonstrates that struggles over narrative ownership extend far beyond athletics into race, education, art, film, and cultural identity.

    Using this idea as your conceptual framework, write a 1,200-word argumentative essay comparing two of the following works:

    • Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass by Frederick Douglass
    • “Learning in the Shadow of Race and Class” by bell hooks
    • Summer of Soul directed by Ahmir “Questlove” Thompson
    • Is That Black Enough for You?!? directed by Elvis Mitchell

    In your essay, analyze the claim that controlling narrative, memory, and representation is one of the most powerful ways dominant groups maintain authority and one of the most important ways marginalized groups resist erasure.

    As you develop your argument, examine how the works portray struggles over literacy, education, historical memory, cultural visibility, artistic representation, and identity. How do powerful institutions shape public understanding of reality? How do marginalized individuals and communities reclaim the right to tell their own stories? To what extent do autobiography, education, music, film, and art function as tools of resistance against cultural invisibility?

    You should also analyze the rhetorical and artistic methods used by the creators. Consider how autobiography, storytelling, archival footage, music, imagery, editing, voice, and narrative structure influence audience perception and challenge dominant narratives.

    As part of your essay, address at least one counterargument. For example, some critics may argue that representation and cultural visibility are insufficient forms of resistance because they do not necessarily produce economic equality, political power, or institutional change. Others may argue that dominant cultures eventually absorb and commodify resistance movements, transforming them into marketable products. Evaluate these criticisms and explain the strengths and limitations of cultural expression as a form of resistance.

    As you conclude, consider the broader implications of narrative control. Why do individuals, institutions, and societies fight so fiercely over memory, legitimacy, and representation? What happens when people lose the ability to preserve and narrate their own histories? Finally, consider how social media, AI, and algorithm-driven platforms continue to shape who gets to tell the story and whose stories are forgotten.

    Requirements:

    • 1,200 words minimum
    • MLA format
    • Compare two of the four works
    • Include a clear thesis with mapping components
    • Include at least one counterargument and rebuttal
    • Analyze specific scenes, passages, or examples rather than merely summarizing
    • Develop a focused argument about narrative ownership, cultural memory, identity, and power
  • Can Philosophers Keep Their Souls in Silicon Valley?

    Can Philosophers Keep Their Souls in Silicon Valley?

    In “Someone Finally Wants to Hire Philosophers,” Lila Shroff reports what would have sounded like a punchline only a decade ago: philosophy majors may finally be getting the last laugh. For years, philosophy occupied an awkward place in the public imagination—a discipline associated with coffee-shop debates, existential handwringing, and the noble art of explaining to relatives why you were unemployed. At best, the philosopher was a thoughtful gadfly. At worst, a professional overthinker. But the rise of artificial intelligence has suddenly transformed philosophy from an intellectual curiosity into a marketable skill. Major technology companies are hiring philosophers. Universities are recruiting scholars who specialize in both AI and philosophy. The old joke about philosophy leading nowhere is beginning to age badly.

    As Shroff notes, this development should not surprise us. Philosophers have been wrestling with questions about intelligence, consciousness, morality, and the possibility of artificial minds for centuries. Long before Silicon Valley executives promised to change the world, philosophers were already asking whether a machine could think, reason, or possess something resembling a mind. Today, thinkers such as Nick Bostrom have become influential voices in the AI conversation. His book Superintelligence warned more than a decade ago that humanity might create machines whose capabilities outstrip our ability to control them. What once sounded like speculative science fiction now reads more like a boardroom agenda.

    The marriage between AI and philosophy arises from a practical concern. Technology companies want their products to appear ethical, trustworthy, and safe. A machine that accidentally promotes fraud, discrimination, or social chaos is difficult to market. Consumers are more likely to embrace AI systems that project wisdom, fairness, and restraint. In the increasingly crowded AI marketplace, virtue has become a product feature. Safety, ethics, and responsibility are not merely moral concerns; they are branding opportunities.

    Yet Shroff’s essay leaves several uncomfortable questions lingering in the air.

    First, philosophers disagree about nearly everything. That is practically the job description. If ethical questions routinely produce competing schools of thought, which philosophers do AI companies choose to hire? A utilitarian, a virtue ethicist, a libertarian, and a nihilist might evaluate the same problem and arrive at wildly different conclusions. When an AI company claims to be guided by philosophy, whose philosophy is it talking about?

    Second, corporations do not operate in a vacuum. They pursue growth, market share, influence, and profit. Given those incentives, it seems unlikely that technology companies will eagerly recruit philosophers whose views fundamentally conflict with corporate objectives. The philosopher who questions the legitimacy of the enterprise may not receive the same warm welcome as the philosopher who helps polish its public image.

    Third, what happens to philosophy itself when it becomes a lucrative career path? If technology firms reward certain ethical frameworks and ignore others, philosophers may gradually adapt their views to become more employable. Intellectual independence has always been easier to defend when no one is writing the check. Once prestige, influence, and six-figure salaries enter the picture, even the most principled thinkers may find themselves sanding off inconvenient beliefs.

    This is why I remain skeptical of any celebration of philosophy’s new status in the AI economy. There is no such thing as pure philosophy floating above human ambition. There are only human beings, complete with incentives, blind spots, loyalties, and self-interest. The partnership between AI and philosophy may produce genuinely useful ethical guidance. Or it may become an elaborate exercise in corporate virtue theater—a dazzling display of moral concern performed beneath bright lights while the machinery of profit hums steadily backstage. Whether philosophers become the conscience of artificial intelligence or merely its public relations department remains an open question.

  • Voyeurs of Violence: Media Spectacle and the Commodification of Crime

    Voyeurs of Violence: Media Spectacle and the Commodification of Crime

    Few crimes provoke stronger public outrage than the exploitation of children. In the digital age, however, the pursuit of justice has increasingly merged with the logic of entertainment, viral media, and online spectacle. Social media platforms, livestreams, YouTube channels, and reality-style investigations now allow audiences to consume criminal exposure as a form of emotional entertainment. While many of these productions claim to protect vulnerable victims and raise public awareness, they also raise troubling ethical questions about voyeurism, vigilantism, humiliation, and the commodification of suffering.

    The 2025 documentary Predators and the film Nightcrawler both explore societies increasingly addicted to turning pain, fear, scandal, and criminality into spectacle. Predators examines the culture surrounding online predator stings, public exposure, and internet vigilantism, asking whether these efforts genuinely serve justice or merely transform human tragedy into viral entertainment. Nightcrawler similarly critiques a media culture in which violence and suffering become profitable content consumed by emotionally detached audiences. Together, these works suggest that modern media systems often blur the line between public service and exploitation.

    Write a 1,200-word argumentative essay responding to the following claim:

    The transformation of crime, suffering, and public humiliation into entertainment ultimately corrupts justice by encouraging voyeurism, emotional exploitation, and spectacle-driven morality.

    In your essay, you may defend, challenge, or complicate this claim. As you develop your argument, consider questions such as: Does public exposure deter criminal behavior and raise legitimate awareness, or does it encourage reckless vigilantism and mob psychology? At what point does crime reporting become entertainment? Can media exposure serve justice responsibly, or does the pursuit of ratings, clicks, and viral attention inevitably distort moral judgment? Why are audiences drawn to spectacles involving humiliation, revenge, fear, and public punishment?

    You should also analyze how both works critique audience complicity. To what extent are viewers themselves participating in the commodification of suffering? How do modern media systems reward emotional extremity, outrage, and voyeuristic curiosity? Does the public consume these stories out of genuine concern for justice, or because tragedy and scandal have become emotionally addictive forms of entertainment?

    In addition to analyzing the themes of both works, examine the rhetorical and cinematic methods used by the filmmakers. Consider how tone, imagery, editing, suspense, emotional manipulation, interviews, satire, and spectacle shape the audience’s reaction. How does Nightcrawler especially critique the relationship between media consumers and those who profit from violence and tragedy?

    You must also include at least one counterargument and rebuttal. For example, some critics may argue that aggressive public exposure is necessary because traditional institutions and law enforcement often fail to protect vulnerable victims. Others may argue that disturbing media coverage serves an important social function by forcing society to confront uncomfortable realities. Respond to these objections by evaluating the ethical responsibilities of media creators and audiences alike.

    As you conclude your essay, consider the larger cultural implications of these works. What do Predators and Nightcrawler suggest about modern society’s relationship with violence, humiliation, revenge, and spectacle? What happens to a culture when entertainment and morality become increasingly inseparable?

    Requirements:

    • 1,200 words minimum
    • MLA format
    • Use evidence from both works
    • Include a clear thesis with mapping components
    • Include at least one counterargument and rebuttal
    • Analyze specific scenes, quotations, or examples rather than merely summarizing
    • Develop a focused argument about media spectacle, voyeurism, justice, and audience complicity

  • The Loneliness Crisis: Social Isolation and the Rise of American Hostility (college essay prompt)

    The Loneliness Crisis: Social Isolation and the Rise of American Hostility (college essay prompt)

    Read David Brooks’ essay “How America Got Mean” and Derek Thompson’ essay “The Anti-Social Century.” Then watch Roy Wood Jr.’s comedy special Lonely Flowers.

    In the comedy performance Lonely Flowers, Roy Wood Jr. argues that increasing loneliness and social disconnection are contributing to rising anger, hostility, tribalism, and violence in American culture. Brooks and Thompson similarly describe a society that is becoming more fragmented, isolated, distrustful, and emotionally brittle. Together, these works raise an important question: What happens to individuals and societies when meaningful human connection begins to collapse?

    Write a 1,200-word argumentative essay analyzing the claim that social isolation is a major cause of America’s rising hostility, cruelty, and social dysfunction. Your essay may support, challenge, or complicate Roy Wood Jr.’s argument, but you must engage deeply with the ideas presented by Brooks and Thompson as you develop your position.

    As you develop your argument, consider how these writers and performers describe the psychological and cultural effects of loneliness, alienation, and declining social trust. How do social isolation, digital life, political tribalism, economic pressure, social media, declining community institutions, and weakened friendships contribute to anger and resentment? To what extent do modern Americans increasingly experience one another not as neighbors or fellow citizens but as abstractions, enemies, audiences, or online avatars?

    You should also consider competing explanations for cultural hostility. Is loneliness truly the central problem, or are broader forces—economic inequality, political polarization, consumer culture, technological addiction, family breakdown, declining religion, or social media algorithms—more responsible for rising social tension? Does loneliness cause hostility, or does hostility itself drive people further into isolation?

    In addition to analyzing the ideas presented in these works, examine how each creator communicates their message. Consider the differences between Brooks’ social criticism, Thompson’s cultural analysis, and Roy Wood Jr.’s use of comedy, storytelling, exaggeration, and observational humor. Why might comedy be an especially effective way to address painful subjects such as loneliness, disconnection, and social fragmentation?

    You must include at least one counterargument and rebuttal. For example, some critics may argue that modern technology and online culture have actually expanded social connection rather than weakened it. Others may argue that Americans are not truly isolated but are instead forming new kinds of communities online. Respond to these objections by evaluating the quality and depth of modern social relationships.

    As you conclude your essay, consider the larger implications of these works. What do they suggest about the future of friendship, community, empathy, and civic life in America? If loneliness and social fragmentation continue to grow, what might happen to the culture, politics, and mental health of the nation?

    Requirements:

    • 1,200 words minimum
    • MLA format
    • Use evidence from all three works
    • Include a clear thesis with mapping components
    • Include at least one counterargument and rebuttal
    • Analyze specific examples, scenes, or passages rather than merely summarizing
    • Develop a focused argument about loneliness, social fragmentation, and cultural hostility
  • Who Controls the Story Controls the People (college essay prompt)

    Who Controls the Story Controls the People (college essay prompt)

    Using Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass by Frederick Douglass, bell hooks’ essay “Learning in the Shadow of Race and Class,” Ahmir ‘Questlove’ Thompson’s documentary Summer of Soul, and Elvis Mitchell’s documentary Is That Black Enough for You?!? as your central texts, write a 1,200-word argumentative essay analyzing the claim that art, music, film, education, and literacy function as weapons against cultural erasure and oppression.

    As you develop your argument, examine how dominant cultures maintain power not only through physical oppression and economic inequality but also through controlling memory, representation, literacy, visibility, and storytelling itself. Consider how marginalized groups are often denied the power to narrate their own existence and how reclaiming narrative ownership becomes an act of resistance, survival, and humanization.

    In Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, analyze how slavery denied enslaved people literacy, birthdates, ancestry, and historical identity in order to reduce them to property rather than persons. Consider how Douglass presents reading and writing as revolutionary acts that allow him to reclaim his humanity and resist a system designed to silence him. How does his memoir itself function as an act of historical recovery and resistance against cultural erasure?

    In “Learning in the Shadow of Race and Class,” analyze how bell hooks describes education as both a pathway toward empowerment and a site of alienation, performance, and cultural conflict. How does hooks show that race and class shape access to power, belonging, and self-definition? Why do marginalized students often feel pressure to erase or reinvent parts of themselves in elite educational spaces? To what extent does education demand assimilation into dominant cultural codes?

    In Summer of Soul, analyze how the Harlem Cultural Festival celebrated Black artistry, spirituality, joy, and political consciousness during a period of racial upheaval. Why was this massive cultural event largely erased from mainstream historical memory while Woodstock became mythologized as the defining music festival of the era? How does Questlove use archival footage, music, interviews, and storytelling to recover a forgotten history and challenge the marginalization of Black cultural memory?

    In Is That Black Enough for You?!?, analyze how Elvis Mitchell critiques Hollywood’s long history of reducing Black identity to stereotypes while marginalizing Black filmmakers, actors, and stories. How did Black cinema in the 1960s and 1970s challenge Hollywood’s control over representation? How does Mitchell argue that recovering overlooked Black films and artists becomes an act of cultural restoration and resistance against historical erasure?

    As part of your argument, analyze not only the ideas presented in these works but also the rhetorical and artistic methods used by the creators themselves. Consider how autobiography, music, archival footage, imagery, storytelling, editing, voice, and film structure shape audience perception and resist cultural invisibility.

    You must also address at least one counterargument. For example, some critics may argue that art, music, and representation alone are insufficient forms of resistance because symbolic visibility does not necessarily produce economic equality, political power, or institutional change. Others may argue that mainstream culture eventually commodifies resistance movements and transforms them into profitable entertainment. Respond to these objections by evaluating the actual power and limitations of cultural expression.

    As you conclude your essay, consider the larger implications of narrative control. Why do oppressive systems repeatedly attempt to regulate literacy, storytelling, education, historical memory, and representation? What happens to individuals and societies when marginalized groups lose the power to preserve and narrate their own histories? Finally, consider how modern digital culture, social media, AI, and algorithm-driven entertainment continue to shape which voices are amplified, marginalized, archived, or forgotten.

    For your introductory paragraph, explain how the struggle for the dominant narrative is presented in the documentary We Beat the Dream Team and how the film shows that battles over narrative power extend far beyond race into many areas of culture. Analyze how individuals and groups compete to control public memory, define legitimacy, shape historical perception, and claim symbolic victory. Show how the documentary demonstrates that the fight for the dominant narrative is ultimately a struggle over identity, status, recognition, and cultural power.

    Requirements:

    • 1,200 words minimum
    • MLA format
    • MLA Works Cited page with 5 sources
    • Use evidence from all five texts
    • Include a clear thesis with mapping components
    • Include at least one counterargument and rebuttal
    • Analyze specific scenes, passages, quotations, or examples rather than merely summarizing
    • Develop a focused argument about the relationship between narrative ownership, cultural memory, identity, and power

  • Learning to Speak Rich

    Learning to Speak Rich

    Known publicly as bell hooks in honor of her grandmother, hooks explores in her essay “Learning in the Shadow of Race and Class” a deeply conflicted relationship with education, class mobility, race, and selfhood. Her story is not a simple celebration of academic success. It is the story of a woman who discovers that entering elite educational spaces often demands a painful reshaping—even partial erasure—of the self.

    hooks describes growing up in a deeply religious working-class black family defined by economic scarcity and moral restraint. Her parents taught her not to expect luxury, comfort, or indulgence. Desire itself carried a faint odor of danger and shame. Material appetites were viewed not as healthy ambitions but as temptations capable of corrupting the soul. As a result, hooks explains that she learned “the art of sublimation and repression,” training herself to suppress wants, ambitions, and emotional needs in the name of survival and moral discipline.

    When she entered college close to home, she found herself stranded in an overwhelmingly white social environment populated by affluent young women whose values seemed completely foreign to her own. Many of these students treated her with ridicule, cruelty, and casual contempt. hooks describes them almost as alien life forms—young women so economically secure and psychologically entitled that they moved through the world with complete confidence in their own importance. They expressed their desires openly and unapologetically, behaving as though comfort, pleasure, beauty, and success were their birthrights.

    To the young hooks, raised in a culture of modesty and self-denial, this behavior was shocking. She associated upper-class aspiration with vanity, ostentation, envy, and cruelty. Yet she also recognized that these women possessed a kind of social confidence unavailable to her own world of repression and apology. Their existence revealed how class shapes not only material conditions but body language, speech, appetite, ambition, and assumptions about one’s place in the world.

    Not all of the white students fit this mold. hooks found friendship with several women from modest economic backgrounds who shared her skepticism toward vanity and excess. These relationships gave her temporary relief from the alienation surrounding her.

    Still miserable at the college, hooks encountered an English professor educated at Stanford University who encouraged her to leave and attend Stanford instead. Her parents reacted with terror. To them, California represented a modern Babylon where humility dissolved into narcissism, vanity, materialism, and sinful desire. Yet hooks could not imagine remaining at the all-white college. Stanford at least offered the possibility of intellectual and racial community, so she persuaded her parents to let her go west.

    Stanford overwhelmed her senses immediately. The campus radiated wealth, ambition, appetite, and institutional power. The architecture itself seemed to proclaim that greatness—especially economic greatness—was the natural destiny of those who studied there. hooks realized quickly that elite universities do not merely educate students academically; they train them socially and psychologically for membership within elite classes. Networking, status management, and the performance of confidence were woven into the institution’s culture as thoroughly as lectures and exams.

    The message Stanford communicated was unmistakable: if you were already wealthy, your job was to become even wealthier and more powerful. If you were poor, your task was to abandon the habits, assumptions, insecurities, and cultural signals associated with poverty and remake yourself in the image of the elite.

    Although hooks found less overt racism at Stanford, she encountered something she found equally disturbing: unapologetic class contempt. Wealthy students and professors openly mocked and dismissed working-class people. She recalls hearing students speak about poorer Americans with startling derision, as though poverty itself reflected stupidity, vulgarity, or moral failure.

    Most shocking to hooks was discovering that this elitism extended into segments of the black intellectual community as well. She describes encountering members of the “black diaspora” who displayed the same contempt toward the poor and working class that she had seen among affluent whites. Poverty was treated not merely as an economic condition but as a psychological defect requiring correction and purification. hooks realized that race alone did not guarantee solidarity; class divisions fractured black communities from within.

    Over time, hooks came to believe that academic success for poor students often requires a painful form of self-renunciation. To become educated within elite institutions meant learning new codes of speech, dress, posture, behavior, and intellectual performance. One had to absorb the language and cultural signals of the privileged classes while distancing oneself from working-class origins. In effect, students from poorer backgrounds often succeed only by engaging in a kind of controlled self-erasure.

    Education, then, becomes morally complicated. It is not simply enlightenment or liberation. It is also performance. Mimicry. Adaptation. Sycophancy. Reinvention.

    By the time hooks earned her doctorate and became a professor herself, she felt not uncomplicated pride but deep ambivalence. She had entered the world of privilege while remaining emotionally loyal to the working-class culture that shaped her identity. She occupied elite academic spaces while refusing to sever her connection to the people and values from which she came.

    I have had the privilege of teaching hooks’ essays to college students since the 1980s—across five different decades of teaching. Of all her works, “Learning in the Shadow of Race and Class” remains my favorite because it exposes the emotional and psychological costs hidden beneath the mythology of higher education.

    Next semester, I plan to assign an essay asking students to evaluate the claim that hooks ultimately portrays higher education as a process requiring painful self-transformation. According to this interpretation, success in college often demands that students distance themselves from their past, imitate the language and cultural behaviors of professors and elites, and absorb the social signals associated with wealth and status. Education therefore becomes not merely intellectual growth, but a complicated mixture of genuine learning, shame, performance, ambition, self-betrayal, and social reinvention.

    Here is the 1,000-word argumentative essay prompt:

    In her essay “Learning in the Shadow of Race and Class,” bell hooks presents higher education not simply as a path toward knowledge and liberation, but as a psychologically painful process of social transformation. As a working-class black woman moving through predominantly white and elite educational spaces, hooks experiences education as both empowering and alienating. She discovers that academic success often requires students from poorer or marginalized backgrounds to adopt new forms of speech, dress, behavior, ambition, and self-presentation associated with wealth and class privilege. At times, this transformation feels less like intellectual growth and more like self-erasure.

    hooks argues that elite colleges and universities do more than teach information. They also train students to perform class identity. Students learn not only what to think, but how to speak, dress, network, express ambition, suppress insecurity, and project confidence in ways that signal belonging within elite professional culture. For hooks, the process becomes morally complicated because upward mobility often demands distance from one’s family, working-class roots, cultural identity, or former self. Success may require what hooks describes as forms of repression, performance, mimicry, and reinvention.

    Write a 1,000-word argumentative essay in which you evaluate the following claim:

    To become successful and “educated” within elite academic culture, students from working-class or marginalized backgrounds often feel pressure to reinvent themselves by adopting the language, behaviors, attitudes, and social codes of the privileged classes, even when doing so creates feelings of shame, alienation, self-betrayal, or disconnection from their past.

    In your essay, analyze how hooks portrays education as both liberating and psychologically costly. To what extent do you agree with her argument? Does higher education genuinely expand human freedom and opportunity, or does it pressure students into performing a new identity in order to gain acceptance and success? Is adapting to elite academic culture a necessary form of growth and professional development, or does it require students to abandon important parts of themselves?

    As you develop your argument, you may consider some of the following questions:

    • How do class, race, and economic background shape a student’s experience in college?
    • What social “codes” do elite universities teach beyond academics?
    • Is there a difference between education and social performance?
    • Does professional success require conformity?
    • Can students remain loyal to their working-class roots while entering elite institutions?
    • Does higher education reward authenticity or performance?
    • Is self-reinvention a healthy form of growth or a form of self-betrayal?
    • How do speech, clothing, confidence, networking, and cultural tastes function as markers of class?
    • Are elite universities spaces of liberation, assimilation, or both?

    You may use personal observations, contemporary examples, films, books, interviews, or other sources to support your argument. Possible connections could include social media culture, networking culture, corporate professionalism, influencer culture, first-generation college experiences, code-switching, or the pressure to cultivate a “successful” personal brand.

    Requirements:

    • Clear argumentative thesis
    • At least three mapping components in the thesis
    • Counterargument and rebuttal
    • Specific references to hooks’ essay
    • MLA format
    • Approximately 1,000 words

    Your goal is not merely to summarize hooks’ experiences, but to evaluate the larger argument her essay makes about education, class mobility, identity, and the hidden emotional costs of social advancement.