In brief
The story follows Abdi Nor Iftin, a Somali refugee who won a diversity visa and settled in Maine, only to face job loss and rising doubts about the American Dream. Interviewees like actor‑turned‑writer Luke Mullen point to shrinking entertainment opportunities, while polls reveal that only a third of Americans believe the dream still exists. Historians trace the dream's origin to ideals of opportunity, yet decades of wage stagnation, widening inequality, and tightened immigration policies have eroded its promise. Despite this, many still see the dream as a beacon, insisting that it can be revitalised for the coming centuries.
Abdi Nor Iftin was a young Somali refugee in one of Kenya’s roughest slums until 2013 when he won one of 50,000 diversity visas that the United States awards every year. He dreamed of America so intensely his friends nicknamed him “Abdi America.” After arriving in Maine, he worked installing insulation, became a U.S. citizen, but recent layoffs have cost him both a job and health coverage. He told our reporter, “The American Dream is alive, but not well.”
Meanwhile, actor‑turned‑writer Luke Mullen, 24, is leaving California for Canada where film taxes and new studio deals promise more job prospects. “Wealth is getting consolidated in this country and the opportunities are dwindling,” he notes. His move echoes a larger trend: more Americans are applying for citizenship abroad and seeking work in the UK, Ireland or Canada.
Across the country, polling from the Associated Press‑NORC and Pew Research shows that only around a third of respondents actually believe the American Dream still exists, and that most Americans feel the country’s best days are behind it. Surveys highlight a deep partisan divide: Republicans and older voters are more skeptical of the dream’s demise, but younger adults, particularly 18‑29‑year‑olds, are the most cynical.
Historically, the American Dream began as a promise that anyone could turn a new life into a better one, attracting settlers, farmers and dream‑chasers alike. Since the 1970s, however, globalisation, wage stagnation, the 2008 financial crisis and recent immigration restrictions have eroded that promise. Research by Harvard economist Raj Chetty shows that children born in the 1940s out‑earned their parents 90 % of the time, but this drops to about 50 % for those born in the 1980s.
For many, the dream goes beyond material wealth—it is a promise of freedom, opportunity and individual rights that began with the nation’s founding documents. Historically excluded groups—Native Americans, slaves, women and ethnic minorities—have struggled to claim that promise. Black Americans, in particular, see the dream as a myth unaligned with the realities of slavery and segregation.
Amid this climate of doubt, some remain optimistic. Polls in the Times and by The Archbridge Institute suggest that about 61 % of respondents still believe in the concept. Advocates argue that focusing only on the negative risks making the dream’s demise self‑fulfilling and call for a renewed commitment to “re‑ignite the American Dream.”
Reflecting on his choice, Abdi states that, if he could start over, he would still pick the U.S. “because it is my first love.” But for now, his story, and those of many others, illustrate how the American Dream has survived 250 years—only just.
