I am at risk of sounding a little geeky here, but as soon as I read the “Agency” chapter in the Theory Toolbox, I was immediately reminded of the story of Alexander Hamilton. I guess I have Mr. Lin-Manuel Miranda, creator/writer/composer/star of the Broadway show Hamilton, to thank for that. Before you make any assumptions or read any further, I urge you to watch this video.
Hamilton is exactly what it sounds like – the story of America’s founding father Alexander Hamilton. I previously knew little of the man and, honestly, I thought this sounded boring at first, too, but what’s interesting is that the story is told completely through hip hop and rap music and stars a cast of multiracial actors in roles that embody early American settlers – white men and women. As Miranda explains, he wanted to portray the forming of our country in a way that both looks and sounds like America today. Miranda, recipient of the MacArthur Genius Grant for his work, says that the inspiration for these choices bloomed out of Hamilton’s story itself. Born to a poor, single mother in St. Croix and eventually orphaned, Hamilton quite literally “wrote himself out of his circumstances” (which, as Miranda puts it, is the “hip hop narrative”) and made his way to the future United States. Here, he graduated from Kings College, fought in the American Revolution, practiced law, served as the right-hand to President George Washington, assisted in the writing of the Constitution, acted as the first Secretary of the Treasury, and formed the National Bank. In other words, Hamilton is America’s original immigrant success story. He is one of the first examples in US history of an individual rising far beyond his circumstances to achieve things that may have at first appeared impossible, outlandish, and extremely outside of what our book calls the “social norm” of that time. It was, without question, Hamilton’s own personal “agency” (the power to do something) that sparked events that shaped history. Additionally, it was the agency of many, many individuals of the Revolution that looked at the state of the colonies under British rule and decided that it was in their hands to shape that history. As the TT states on page 255, “we cannot ignore the fact that people create history by doing things; history is made rather than found.” What’s unique about this moment in history, however, is that unlike most of us today who “tend to not see our actions of having much impact on the grand historical stage” (pg. 256), the founding fathers were hyper-aware that the country they were forming the the decision making that went into it would have a great and lasting effect. They were aware of the power that had been exercised over them (Britain), and thus, even more careful with the power they subsequently received.
Similar to Hamilton, Miranda himself is a first-generation son of a Puerto Rican immigrant. His own social context never once implied that he would go on to become a Broadway sensation, one of the most talked-about people in both historical and pop culture realms, or the recipient of a genius grant. However, as we’ve come to understand, the power of agency is the power we have to resist and remake our own contexts; it is the power we have to redefine the status quo.
At the risk of sounding a little geeky myself, I have to admit that when I saw this post was about Hamilton, I jumped up in excitement and ran to tell my suite mates. We are all huge fans of the show, and I even toyed around with the idea of doing my research paper on it. But back to the post: I agree entirely with your analysis of the agency behind the creation of Hamilton. Hamilton flies in the face of “historical correctness,” which, when it comes to race, is often a not-so-subtle way to say, “whites only”. This is a cry often heard to argue against criticism of a movie with mainly white characters. For instance, media about our nation’s history are often focused almost exclusively on the white experience, blocking people of color’s claim to American History. However, Lin Manuel Miranda created a musical that allows people of color to reach out and reclaim history that is theirs as much as anyone else’s. Why else would every main role, save King George, be acted by a person of color? Hamilton forces us to confront our underlying notions that all of America’s early history was about the efforts of white people, and reflects the multicultural nation we live in today. (In addition, it is a piece of lyrical genius!)
One thing you just said really interested me. You mentioned the fact that unlike us in (post)modernity, who tend to consider ourselves impotent of having anything close to a real historical impact, the founding fathers were “hyper-aware” that they were crafting a long-lasting legacy. It is interesting to contrast these two views of history: one of it as inexorable and unwieldy and another of it as something to be carefully tailored to certain enlightened ends.
Also it is interesting to consider what the foundational differences are that determine this altered view of history between us and them, aside from the obvious one that none of us seem to be at the outset of establishing a new nation. It seems to me arguable that there’s more to it than that; that, perhaps, as a consequence of globalization and the Internet’s colonization of the world, we find ourselves dwarfed as individuals by the integrated collective of humanity, while in the 1700’s there was so much left that was uncharted, so many cultures not in communication with one another, that the idea of being the impetus of a drastic change seemed not so absurd. If the system of history is smaller, it seems to follow that less force is necessary in order to startle it. But when it swells to obscene proportions, and balloons into shapes that it seems no one would have intentionally prescribed, the idea of jolting it in one direction or another seems idealistic at best, perniciously naïve at worst.
Okay first of all, I love Hamilton and am dying to get tickets to see it (I’m so glad you made this reference!!). I find it really interesting that you pointed out the “hyper-awareness” of the founding fathers as they made the laws that formed the country. They were certainly aware of their agency–in the case of the founding fathers, and particularly Alexander Hamilton, the individual absolutely did matter, as each opinion that went into the formation of new American ideals had an impact that went far beyond this moment in history and far beyond the individual. Like the person above me pointed out, the idea that the modern individual is somehow less aware of their agency is an interesting and somewhat frightening one–would our choices and actions be different if we were more aware of our impact on the world, even if it is a small one? Our book says that we should confront the idea that “people are subject to their historical contexts rather than master of them” (256). In the case of Alexander Hamilton, he worked to defy the “context” of his birth and initial poverty by making something of himself with his innovative ideas and intelligence. And in the case of the play Hamilton, Lin Manuel Miranda is trying to reclaim a period in history by including representation of women and people of color in a performance set to hip hop music of the present day. As the video says, it’s America today telling the story of America then–and isn’t the ability to do that, in itself, an amazing and very catchy form of agency that is affecting and inspiring many Americans in the form of a popular Broadway play?
Fascinating conversation here. I’m especially intrigued by what the two other commenters latch on to: the contrast between the historic hyper-awareness of one’s agency as an actor on the world stage, and the sense more recently that our impact is necessarily diluted. There’s less physically to discover, we are so fully integrated into a global network of powers that constrain us; we exist in so many virtual realities that to act on the “real” one can seem, as Anthony says, illusory. Ainsley, then, asks if Lin Manuel Miranda himself enacts a crucial form of agency as he re-tells the story, re-frames a dusty American story as an immigrant’s tale–one that empowers and helps us see not only this era of hyper-aware agency, but that this era was more dynamic, more diverse than we might think. In a more pessimistic light, this impact might be viewed as merely “cultural,” merely a re-framing of context, helping us see something in a new light. But in another sense, one might say that all change is cultural: it involves, in the case of the revolution, re-framing issues of rights and inclusion and equality and representation–themes very much taken up by the recent musical. Of course, it’s easy to see Hamilton the musical residing in culture–in a fast-moving culture in which it will eventually fade. Hamilton the historical figure resides, well, in history–a sort of monumental presence subject to re-contextualization but always there. But both acts relied upon a strong sense of agency, of contextual creativity, as out authors call it. And whose to say that in the virtual and cosmic and biological spaces opening up in both macro and micro levels that there is not that much more free space to enact our agency, to reach an audience, and to make changes. Think of the impact that Malala Yousafzai has had, to use a more positive example, or the impact ISIS has had: both use very modern means to convey ideas of hope and carnage, respectively, and both are capital-A Agents in every sense of the word, in what they’ve done and what they’ve inspired. The argument about hyper-saturation of our global world as a barrier to agency is perhaps more of an excuse (and modernity has given us many more excuses) than an explanation for lack of action.