Ask most people how they define the American Dream and chances are they’ll say, “Success.” The dream of individual opportunity has been home in American since Europeans discovered a “new world” in the Western Hemisphere. Early immigrants like Hector St. Jean de Crevecoeur praised highly the freedom and opportunity to be found in this new land. His glowing descriptions of a classless society where anyone could attain success through honesty and hard work fired the imaginations of many European readers: in Letters from an American Farmer (1782) he wrote. “We are all excited at the spirit of an industry which is unfettered (无拘无束的) and unrestrained, because each person works for himself … We have no princes, for whom we toil (干苦力活)，starve, and bleed: we are the most perfect society now existing in the world.” The promise of a land where “the rewards of a man’s industry follow with equal steps the progress of his labor” drew poor immigrants from Europe and fueled national expansion into the western territories.
    Our national mythology (神化) is full of illustration the American success story. There’s Benjamin Franklin, the very model of the self-educated, self-made man, who rose from modest origins to become a well-known scientist, philosopher, and statesman. In the nineteenth century, Horatio Alger, a writer of fiction for young boys, became American’s best-selling author with rags-to-riches tales. The notion of success haunts us: we spend million every year reading about the rich and famous, learning how to “make a fortune in real estate with no money down,” and “dressing for success.” The myth of success has even invaded our personal relationships: today it’s as important to be “successful” in marriage or parenthoods as it is to come out on top in business.
    But dreams easily turn into nightmares. Every American who hopes to “make it” also knows the fear of failure, because the myth of success inevitably implies comparison between the haves and the have-nots, the stars and the anonymous crowd. Under pressure of the myth, we become indulged in status symbols: we try to live in the “right” neighborhoods, wear the “right” clothes, eat the “right” foods. These symbols of distinction assure us and others that we believe strongly in the fundamental equality of all, yet strive as hard as we can to separate ourselves from our fellow citizens.