Anastasia Hayes: New York’s Liminality

Paris may be France, London may be England, but New York, we continue to reassure ourselves, is not America. (Beyond the Melting Pot, page 2)

New York’s otherness is something I have actually thought quite a bit about over the course of my travels. Since age 9, I, through a combination of my parents’ generosity and sheer luck, have been traveling abroad. I’ve confronted and been confronted by people’s conceptions of the United States. The visions have been varied: in Russia, America was viewed with some real mistrust; in southern Italy (Sicily, to be exact), an antiquated vision of the United States featuring streets paved with gold survives; Germans located themselves somewhere in the divide between these two opinions. Many expressed themselves confused by American naivete, a trait that they perceived with a bemused wist. Whatever the opinion on my country at large, almost all I have met on my travels agree that New York is not the United States. I have often agreed with this assessment, many times very eagerly. New York is culture; the United States is not. New York is learning; the United States is not and so on and so forth. I am not sure that after the election I can totally agree with the authors’ assessment that the nation is being remade in the city’s image. Perhaps it was but I think the results push back at that notion. I do think however that New York continues to be one of the best examples of American principles, prizing pluralism and diversity. It would be naive of me to render it some kind of utopia in which difference does not matter. But as I have forced myself to think more about the country’s intellectual tradition and the concept promoted by Alexis de Tocqueville that democracy in America did not need to be imposed as it was in Europe, unified here as it has been with the common sense of every citizen, I have come to recognize my city much more as a integral part of the United States. It is no longer an entity I wish to divorce from its larger context because, at its core, the tradition is beautiful (if deeply flawed).

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