NAME ______PERIOD ______

Full-Class DBEQ

INSTRUCTIONS:

·  The class will be divided into five groups of four students each.

·  Each student will read and analyze one of the four documents assigned to that group.

·  Each group should choose a spokesperson to present the findings of that group to the entire class.

·  Each group will identify the major criticisms of American society during the 1950s illustrated in their documents and put the four documents into a category of social criticism.

QUESTION
The postwar era witnessed tremendous economic growth and rising social contentment and conformity. Yet in the midst of such increasing affluence and comfortable domesticity, social critics expressed a growing sense of unease with American culture in the 1950s.
Assess the validity of the above statement and explain how the decade of the 1950s laid the groundwork for the social and political turbulence of the 1960s.
Document 1
Pressures on children to conform, to be popular, to achieve and generally to fit in with the group amount to a squeeze. They…have no time left for daydreams….
Suburban life, for children, is over-organized; the father has little time at home because of commuting demands; the mother becomes sole disciplinarian and 24-hour chauffeur; population turnover is great, with a resulting lack of stability; materialism is glorified, with sports cars, patios, hi-fi and country clubs set upon an altar….
Despite the dedication to the child's interests, children in the suburbs do not distinguish themselves in tests devised to measure mental health.
Source: Anne Kelley, "Suburbia -- Is It a Child's Utopia?" New York Times Magazine, February 2, 1958.
Document 2
..a recent survey-found that in the suburbs of New York teenage crime has been increasing faster than the teenage population….The report continued: "Social workers generally said they sensed (in these suburbs) an increase in youthful offenses involving alcohol and sex. Several… noted that…10,000 (suburban) youngsters in trouble last year came from...‘good homes’.
Source: Dwight MacDonald, "A Caste, a Culture, a Market," New Yorker, November 22, 1958.
Document 3
The ultimate outcome of the suburb's alienation from the city became visible only in the twentieth century. . . . In the mass movement into suburban areas a new kind of community was produced, which caricatured both the historic city and the archetypal suburban refuge: a multitude of uniform, unidentifiable houses, lined up inflexibly, at uniform distances, on uniform roads, in a treeless communal waste, inhabited by people of the same class, the same income, the same age group, witnessing the same television performances, eating the same tasteless pre-fabricated foods, from the same freezers, conforming in every outward and inward respect to a common mold, manufactured in the central metropolis. Thus the ultimate effect of the suburban escape in our time is, ironically, a low-grade uniform environment from which escape is impossible….
Our cities are being destroyed for the same superstitious religious ritual: the worship of speed and empty space. Lacking sufficient municipal budgets to deal adequately with all of life's requirements that can be concentrated in the city, we have settled for a single function, transportation, or rather for a single part of an adequate transportation system, locomotion by private motor car. . . .
The absurd belief that space and rapid locomotion are the chief ingredients of a good life has been fostered by the agents of mass suburbia
Source: Lewis Mumford. The City in History: Its Origins, Its Transformations, and Its Prospects, 1961.
Document 4
Little boxes on the hillside, little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside, little boxes all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tack and they all look just the same....
And the people in the houses
All went to the university,
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same,
And there’s doctors and lawyers,
And business executives,
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.
And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
Where they all are put in boxes
And they all come out the same…..
Source: Words and music by Malvina Reynolds, 1962.
Document 5
When the (feminine) mystique took over,…a new breed of women came to the suburbs. They were looking for sanctuary [safety]; they were perfectly willing to accept the suburban community as they found it (their only problem was "how to fit in"); they were perfectly willing to fill their days with the trivia of housewifery. Women of this kind, and most of those that I interviewed, were of the post-1950 college generation…[They] refuse to take policy-making positions in community organizations; they will only collect for Red Cross or March of Dimes or Scouts or be den mothers or take the lesser PTA jobs. Their resistance to serious community responsibility is usually explained by "I can't take the time from my family." But much of their time is spent in meaningless busywork. The kind of community work they choose does not challenge their intelligence -- or even, sometimes, fill a real function.
….
A distinguishing feature of these suburbs is the fact that the women who live there are better educated than city women, and the great majority are full-time housewives…..
The decision to move to the suburbs "for the children's sake" followed the decision to give up job or profession and become a full-time housewife, usually after the birth of the first baby, depending on the age of the woman when the mystique hit. With the youngest wives, of course, the mystique hit so early that the choice of marriage and motherhood as a full-time career ruled out education for any profession…
Source: Betty Friedan, The Feminine Mystique, 1963.
Document 6
This book is about the organization man….
They are all, as they so often put it, in the same boat. Listen to them talk to each other over the front lawns of their suburbia and you cannot help but be struck by how well they grasp the common denominators which bind them. Whatever the differences in their organization ties, it is the common problems of collective work that dominate their attentions, and when the Du Pont man talks to the research chemist or the chemist to the army man, it is these problems that are uppermost. The word collective most of them can't bring themselves to use--except to describe foreign countries or organizations they don't work for--but they are keenly aware of how much more deeply beholden they are to organization than were their elders. They are wry about it, to be sure; they talk of the "treadmill," the "rat race," of the inability to control one's direction. But they have no great sense of plight; between themselves and organization they believe they see an ultimate harmony and, more than most elders recognize, they are building an ideology that will vouchsafe this trust….
Source: William H. Whyte’s The Organization Man, 1956.
Document 7
(Keats uses the fictional "Rolling Knolls" as representative of all suburbias.)
In Rolling Knolls, ..., there were no husbands. Men were overnight lodgers or casual weekend guests. They left each morning for the city, which satisfied their need for change and the society of others. When they came home at night, they were apt to want to stay there. They seldom visited their business acquaintances socially, for such acquaintances might well live miles away in some other development at the far end of the metropolitan sprawl. Husbands came to Rolling Knolls ... to eat and sleep, and when they left in the morning, ownership of Rolling Knolls passed by default to a matriarchy...
Source: John Keats, The Crack in the Picture Window, 1956.
Document 8
….many women feel frustrated and far apart from the great issues and stirring debates for which their education has given them understanding and relish. Once they read Baudelaire. Now it is the Consumer's Guide. Once they wrote poetry. Now it's the laundry list. Once they discussed art and philosophy until late in the night. Now they are so tired they fall asleep as soon as the dishes are finished. There is, often, a sense of contraction of closing horizons and lost opportunities. They had hoped to play their part in the crisis of the age. But what they do is wash the diapers.
Source: Adlai Stevenson's Commencement Address to women graduates at Smith College,
June 6, 1955.
Document 9
I drive my car to supermarket / The way I take is superhigh / A superlot is where I park it / And Super Suds are what I buy. / Supersalesmen sell me tonic / Super-Tone O, for relief. / The planes I ride are supersonic. / In trains I like the Super Chief. / Supercilious men and women / Call me superficial, me! / Who so superbly learned to swim in / Supercolossality. / Superphosphate-fed foods feed me / Superservice keeps me new. / Who would dare to supercede me / Super-super-superwho?
Source: John Updike, 1954.
Document 10
In the years following World War II, the papers of any major city--those of New York were an excellent example--told daily of the shortages and shortcomings in the elementary municipal and metropolitan services. The schools were old and overcrowded. The police force was under strength and underpaid. The parks and playgrounds were insufficient. Streets and empty lots were filthy, and the sanitation staff was underequipped and in need of men. Access to the city by those who work there was uncertain and painful and becoming more so. Internal transportation was overcrowded, unhealthful and dirty. So was the air. . . .
The discussion of this public poverty competed, on the whole successfully, with the stories of ever-increasing opulence in privately produced goods….
The contrast was and remains evident not alone to those who read. The family which takes its mauve and cerise, air-conditioned, power steered and power-braked automobile out for a tour passes through cities that are badly paved, made hideous by litter, blighted buildings, billboards, and posts for wires that should long since have been put underground. They pass on into a countryside that has been rendered largely invisible by commercial art. . . . They picnic on exquisitely packaged food from a portable icebox by a polluted stream and go on to spend the night at a park which is a menace to public health and morals. Just before dozing off on an air mattress, beneath a nylon tent, amid the stench of decaying refuse, they may reflect vaguely on the curious unevenness of their blessings. Is this, indeed, the American genius? . . .
An affluent society, that is also both compassionate and rational, would not doubt, secure to all who needed it the minimum income essential for decency and comfort. . .
Source: John Kenneth Galbraith. The Affluent Society, 1958.
Document 11
The millions who are poor in the United States tend to become increasingly invisible. Here is a great mass of people, yet it takes an effort of the intellect and will even to see them.
I discovered this personally in a curious way. After I wrote my first article on poverty in America, I had all the statistics down on paper. I had proved to my satisfaction that there were around 50,000,000 poor in this country. Yet, I realized I did not believe my own figures. The poor existed in the Government reports; they were percentages and numbers in long, close columns, but they were not part of my experience. I could prove that the other America existed, but I had never been there....
Poverty is often off the beaten track. It always has been. The ordinary tourist never left the main highway, and today rides interstate turnpikes. He does not go into the valleys of Pennsylvania where the towns look like movie sets of Wales in the thirties. He does not see the company houses in rows, the rutted roads (the poor always have bad roads whether they live in the city, in towns, or on farms), and everything is black and dirty.
Source: Michael Harrington, The Other America, 1962.
Document 12
We must be willing, individually and as a Nation, to accept whatever sacrifices may be required of us. A people that values in privileges above its principles soon loses both.
These basic precepts are not lofty abstractions, far removed from matters of daily living. They are laws of spiritual strength that generate and define our material strength. Patriotism means equipped forces and a prepared citizenry. Moral stamina means more energy and more productivity, on the farm and in the factory. Love of liberty means the guarding of every resource that makes freedom possible, from the sanctity of our families and the wealth of our soil to the genius of our scientists.
And so each citizen plays an indispensable role. The productivity of our heads, our hands, and our hearts is the source of all the strength we can command, for both the enrichment of our lives and the winning of the peace.
Source: President Eisenhower's First Inaugural Address, 1953.
Document 13
The mosquito control plane flew over our small town last summer. Since we live close to the marshes we were treated to several lethal doses, as the pilot criss-crossed over our place....We consider the spraying of active poison over private land to be a serious aerial intrusion.
The 'harmless' shower bath killed seven of our lovely song-birds outright. We picked up the three dead bodies the next morning, right by the door....The next day three were scattered around the bird bath. (I had emptied it and scrubbed it after the spraying, but YOU CAN NEVER KILL DDT.) On the following day one robin dropped suddenly from a branch in our woods.