Sunday, January 12, 2025
Eight years ago, about four months into Donald Trump’s first term as president, the Herald published an op-ed I wrote entitled “What American Dream?” in which I lamented the ever-growing financial burden on Long Island’s middle class.
Despite all the hard work I put in, I wrote, I was decidedly worse off than my mother and father were a generation earlier. I laid equal blame on Democrats and Republicans, who had rotated in and out of Washington all my life and done little to stop the downward spiral. “And his promises notwithstanding,” I added, “President Trump will likely do little to change our trajectory.”
He did not.
And, in all fairness, neither did President Biden.
Eight years ago I noted that my wife and I worked full time as teachers, but that she had to care for our kids alone during the week, while I tutored after school to keep up with ever-rising expenses.
Today I tutor two to three times as much as I did then. Not out of greed, but necessity. My wife continues to do the lion’s share of the work with the kids, but she, too, has taken on a second job, doing early intervention for special-needs 2-year-olds. So, eight years ago, we basically needed three incomes to make it. Now we need four.
Some of my colleagues at school were elated after Election Day that we have another four years of Trump coming, almost as if their team had won the Super Bowl. It has always surprised me how any teacher can support the guy whose Supreme Court appointee, Neil Gorsuch, rendered the decisive vote in Janus v. AFSCME, a case that weakened public-sector unions like the ones we belong to.
To be fair, others at school were crestfallen.
I, on the other hand, for the first time in my adult life, paid absolutely no attention to this election, and did not watch one minute of election night coverage. Although I voted for Kamala Harris, I did not shed a tear.
That’s because I’ve heard this song before. I know how this movie ends. It doesn’t matter who’s in the White House — our lives here on Long Island are not going to get any easier.
That’s because we’ve witnessed a steady erosion of the middle class since 1973, when real wages started to fall against the backdrop of an energy crisis and pronounced inflation. The true death knell was President Ronald Reagan’s taking office in 1980. Reagan slashed taxes for corporations and the wealthy with the idea that the financial benefits at the top of the economic food chain would trickle down to the rest of us. Only they didn’t.
I’m by no means an economist, but consider this: When I entered kindergarten in 1983, my mother was one of a few moms who needed to get a job to help make ends meet. The embarrassment of getting picked up by another classmate’s mother will forever be etched in my memory. Years later, my mother told me how the guilt I laid on her at the time absolutely broke her heart. Sorry, Mom. I love you.
But by the time I graduated from eighth grade in 1992, working moms were the norm. I can only recall one or two classmates whose mothers didn’t work. Things had certainly changed, and they only continued to get worse.
I’m not piling on Republicans, because there were 20 years of Democratic presidents as well between then and now. My colleagues, both jubilant and dejected after this past Election Day, might remember that the roles were reversed in 2008, when Barack Obama was first elected. Regardless of who has led the country, things haven’t gotten a whole lot better.
That’s because the people at the top — the corporate interests that really run America — don’t want them to. As the late, great comedian George Carlin said, “Our country’s a big club … and you ain’t in it!”
Nobody should have been surprised that Trump trounced the incumbent-backed Harris. Middle class voters have been drowning for 50 years, desperately hoping someone would toss them a life vest that never seems to come.
I wish I shared my Trump-supporting colleagues’ optimism, or even the Harris supporters’ melancholy, but I just don’t. I don’t think any real help is coming, regardless of who is in office.
I will gladly eat my words in four years if my wallet is fatter and prices are lower. But I doubt that’s going to happen.
Nick Buglione is a teacher, a freelance journalist and a former editor of the East Meadow Herald.
