Trying to Understand Americans III
The United States: Where Did We Lose Our Way?
When we arrive in the United States, Latinos often see two faces of the same country. On one side, a nation built on hard work, discipline, innovation, and cultural diversity—the land of the famous American Dream, full of opportunities that often seem impossible in our own countries. But there is also another side, one we see every day in the news and on our streets: violence, drugs, political divisions, children frustrated by a struggling school system, online scams, human trafficking, loneliness, and mistrust. The unavoidable question arises: how did a country that became a symbol of progress and freedom also turn into a leader in so many negative trends? Where did we lose our way?
To understand this, we must look not only at America’s successes but also at the costs that came with them.
The United States has always been a country of speed. In just a few centuries, it went from colony to the world’s most influential power. That rapid rise, admirable as it is, also brings instability. Change happens so fast that many families and communities cannot adapt. In this rush to grow, to innovate, to always be a step ahead, the very bonds that hold society together have been weakened: family, community, schools, and trust in institutions.
The Protestant ethic that shaped this country taught that individuals should work hard, save, be responsible, and self-reliant. That mindset was key in building wealth and social mobility. But taken to the extreme, it turns into pure individualism. “Everyone is on their own,” becomes the message. And in a nation where the collective is weakened, loneliness, anxiety, and cutthroat competition take root. This opens the door to drug use as escape, violence as an answer to frustration, and mistrust reflected in politics and daily life.
Education reveals this contradiction clearly. The United States is home to some of the best universities in the world, yet also has a deeply unequal public school system. A child born in a poor neighborhood rarely receives the same quality of education as one raised in a wealthy suburb. That gap fuels frustration, resentment, and lack of opportunity. Many young people grow up without believing the system offers them a future. And when the future looks dark, it is easier to fall into violence, gangs, or drugs.
Added to this is the logic of a marketplace that invades everything. In a country where almost anything can become a business, dark industries emerge as well. The pharmaceutical industry played a role in the opioid epidemic that devastated entire communities. The internet, for all its innovation, also opened doors to scammers and manipulators preying on people’s trust. And human trafficking, one of the world’s worst crimes, finds the United States a high-demand destination—making it a leader in this tragedy too.
The political climate doesn’t help. America was designed as a nation of balance, where different visions could coexist. Yet in recent years, polarization has turned into something close to civil war. Republicans and Democrats seem more focused on destroying each other than finding shared solutions. When politics becomes a battlefield, ordinary citizens lose true representation. That distrust toward leaders, judges, police, and media feeds cynicism—the sense that nothing works, that no one tells the truth, that everyone is left to fend for themselves.
With all this, it’s no wonder many believe the United States is collapsing. But is it really? I don’t think so. Rather, the nation is experiencing a crisis of purpose. It remains powerful, creative, and full of opportunity, but it has lost sight of what made it great: not only individual freedom, but also the strength of community.
When Protestants, Jews, African Americans, and more recently Latinos contributed to this nation’s growth, they did so not through individualism alone but through community. Protestants built towns and universities where everyone could thrive. Jews created support networks ensuring that one person’s success lifted others. African Americans built churches and civil rights movements that reshaped the nation. Latinos have filled entire sectors of the economy and society with life, labor, and culture. Every time a community came together, the United States moved forward.
That is what’s needed today: a renewed sense of shared purpose. America will not fall for lack of money, technology, or even military power. What could bring it down is the loss of cohesion, of common sense, of collective values. And that can only be rebuilt in small steps: in families that grow stronger, in schools that teach not only to compete but to cooperate, in communities that support one another, in citizens who choose to be part of the solution rather than waiting for someone else to fix things.
Where did we lose our way? Perhaps in forgetting that freedom is not only doing whatever we want—it is also using that freedom to build something with others. America must remember that true greatness is not measured by the size of its economy but by the quality of its shared life, by what it can offer all its people.
For us Latinos living here, this reflection is also a call to action. It is not enough to point out what is broken; we must also ask how we contribute to what can be rebuilt. We have already shown that we know how to work hard, that we bring joy, culture, and youth. The next step is to organize more, educate ourselves more, support one another, and become protagonists in the renewal this country urgently needs.
Because living with purpose, in this context, means refusing to give in to cynicism or complaint. It means believing that just as other communities transformed this country in the past, we too can help ensure that America does not collapse—but instead is reborn.