[LINK] "Class divergences and the Astor Place election"
At Open Democracy, John A. Gronbeck-Tedesco writes compellingly about the long history of the place of socioeconomic class in American politics.
While touring the United States in 1849, English Shakespearean William Charles Macready suffered a string of attacks. Known for his title role in Macbeth, Macready received considerable support from cultural luminaries, among them Herman Melville and Washington Irving, urging him to continue undeterred by the nightly ne’er-do-wells. Scheduled to perform at the posh Astor Place Opera House on the night of May 10, Macready was interrupted by a crowd led by Bowery ruffians and encouraged by Tammany Hall notables. Thousands of working-class New Yorkers rose up against the paragon of foreign refinery, preferring instead the American Shakespearean Edwin Forrest, a longstanding rival of Macready’s who was also playing Macbeth at the Broadway Theater. The feud had ballooned into something nationalistic and rooted in class sensibilities around the politics of artistic tastes and public spaces. Forrest’s Five Points supporters wanted an American at the top of the playbill rather than an Englishman. This night was particularly violent, with protesters overrunning the streets. The National Guard intervened and by the night’s end at least 22 people were killed and dozens more injured.
Just as the Astor Place riot is emblematic of class divergences taking place in Jacksonian Democracy, so too will the 2016 election be seen as a referendum on neoliberalism and the class politics of American whiteness. In Forrest and Macready’s day, the upper echelons of New York society were leery of the European revolutions of 1848, and while Astor Place was a local matter, it was also symptomatic of broader changes taking place nationally on the issue of class. Astor Place proved that class was something much more than wealth. Tastes, values, aesthetics, and language were cultural variables that also comprised one’s social standing. This was evident in the changing theater decorum of the day. For a long time, working-class audience members had been able to make their presence known in the stage pit, where they could interact with the actors on stage by voicing their opinions in raucous ways. But Astor Place was built with privilege in mind, following new protocols and conventions in arts appreciation. Those who previously could attend performances and participate in the collective banter would no longer be able to do so at Astor Place, which adopted a dress code (men had to wear white gloves) and higher ticket prices.
Today we stand witness to new class divisions that are holding tight to cultural attachments ensconced in whiteness and heterosexual masculinity. But often the class portions of these dynamics remain invisible. America’s minimization of class struggle entered a new phase after World War II, when the ideal American now belonged to a middle class that was to be a tireless purchaser of consumer goods. Since the 1950s, America’s culture of abundance has relied on the notion that most Americans are part of, or have access to, the middle class. Year after year, polls have confirmed that most Americans have identified with some form of middle class (including upper- and lower-middle classes). In doing so, Americans have been able to cling to the myth of classlessness. If we’re all some part of the middle, we’re all the same.
Just as the Astor Place riot is emblematic of class divergences taking place in Jacksonian Democracy, so too will the 2016 election be seen as a referendum on neoliberalism and the class politics of American whiteness
In six decades of civil rights movements, Americans by and large have not confronted inequality along class lines as vigorously as they have along race, gender, and even more recently sexuality. Class is still allowed to structure inequality in ways race and gender are not. It is why in New York City there can be differential treatment of tenants based on the rent they pay in mixed-income or rent-stabilized dwellings. In some buildings, tenants who do not pay market-rate rents must enter through different doors or are prevented from some building amenities like courtyards or gyms. If these same buildings were to make African Americans or Jews use a different entrance or prohibit women from using a gym, Americans far and wide would cry foul. Such classism has spread across America’s stratified income landscape.
While touring the United States in 1849, English Shakespearean William Charles Macready suffered a string of attacks. Known for his title role in Macbeth, Macready received considerable support from cultural luminaries, among them Herman Melville and Washington Irving, urging him to continue undeterred by the nightly ne’er-do-wells. Scheduled to perform at the posh Astor Place Opera House on the night of May 10, Macready was interrupted by a crowd led by Bowery ruffians and encouraged by Tammany Hall notables. Thousands of working-class New Yorkers rose up against the paragon of foreign refinery, preferring instead the American Shakespearean Edwin Forrest, a longstanding rival of Macready’s who was also playing Macbeth at the Broadway Theater. The feud had ballooned into something nationalistic and rooted in class sensibilities around the politics of artistic tastes and public spaces. Forrest’s Five Points supporters wanted an American at the top of the playbill rather than an Englishman. This night was particularly violent, with protesters overrunning the streets. The National Guard intervened and by the night’s end at least 22 people were killed and dozens more injured.
Just as the Astor Place riot is emblematic of class divergences taking place in Jacksonian Democracy, so too will the 2016 election be seen as a referendum on neoliberalism and the class politics of American whiteness. In Forrest and Macready’s day, the upper echelons of New York society were leery of the European revolutions of 1848, and while Astor Place was a local matter, it was also symptomatic of broader changes taking place nationally on the issue of class. Astor Place proved that class was something much more than wealth. Tastes, values, aesthetics, and language were cultural variables that also comprised one’s social standing. This was evident in the changing theater decorum of the day. For a long time, working-class audience members had been able to make their presence known in the stage pit, where they could interact with the actors on stage by voicing their opinions in raucous ways. But Astor Place was built with privilege in mind, following new protocols and conventions in arts appreciation. Those who previously could attend performances and participate in the collective banter would no longer be able to do so at Astor Place, which adopted a dress code (men had to wear white gloves) and higher ticket prices.
Today we stand witness to new class divisions that are holding tight to cultural attachments ensconced in whiteness and heterosexual masculinity. But often the class portions of these dynamics remain invisible. America’s minimization of class struggle entered a new phase after World War II, when the ideal American now belonged to a middle class that was to be a tireless purchaser of consumer goods. Since the 1950s, America’s culture of abundance has relied on the notion that most Americans are part of, or have access to, the middle class. Year after year, polls have confirmed that most Americans have identified with some form of middle class (including upper- and lower-middle classes). In doing so, Americans have been able to cling to the myth of classlessness. If we’re all some part of the middle, we’re all the same.
Just as the Astor Place riot is emblematic of class divergences taking place in Jacksonian Democracy, so too will the 2016 election be seen as a referendum on neoliberalism and the class politics of American whiteness
In six decades of civil rights movements, Americans by and large have not confronted inequality along class lines as vigorously as they have along race, gender, and even more recently sexuality. Class is still allowed to structure inequality in ways race and gender are not. It is why in New York City there can be differential treatment of tenants based on the rent they pay in mixed-income or rent-stabilized dwellings. In some buildings, tenants who do not pay market-rate rents must enter through different doors or are prevented from some building amenities like courtyards or gyms. If these same buildings were to make African Americans or Jews use a different entrance or prohibit women from using a gym, Americans far and wide would cry foul. Such classism has spread across America’s stratified income landscape.