Simply put--
I see "social mobility" as best left to the Austens and Dickenses and Fitzgeralds...
To words and books and the imagination alone--
Because from where I'm sitting, there IS no such thing, or if there is it's so intangible and so small-scale, so beyond the pall and so beyond my own reach that I'd sooner believe Oliver Twist or Jay Gatsby's stories than it actually happening for anyone I know, including myself.
If there is any mobility today, it is downward or sideways--
Born to wealthy parents, and you'll live without a care for cash.
Born to rich parents, and most likely you'll live richly.
Born to the upper-middle class, and you'll strain at the bit to make the leap--but likely won't.
Born to the middle class and, like myself, the best you can hope for is not to fall farther.
Born to the lower-middle class and, unless you're beautiful or can play ball, you're screwed.
Born to the poverty-stricken, and yours is the sidewalk-set face the above trample on.
Born to immigrants, and good luck learning the language or gaining acceptance.
The Millenial Generation is, as articles increasingly indicate, a Lost Generation--
The original Lost Generation found itself among the wreckage of a World War...
We find ourselves among the wreckage of a financial system that was set up for short-term gains by a political system built upon that most basic and assured of human qualities, namely, that immediate instinct and desire will overpower the majority and compel them towards a cliff if you place a succulent enough pie at the precipice.
We will live worse than our parents and our grandparents...
D.H. Lawrence's "Lady Chatterly's Lover" famously begins with one of my favorite lines in all of literature--
“Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.”
So we'll keep living--but the sky has fallen on us, and we won't move out from under that rubble, not in my generation, so one might as well make peace with a mortgaged future and make the best of it, to whatever end they wish to do so--
Because there IS no social mobility--it was a myth in the time if Fitzgerald and Lawrence, and ours is an age in which myths and the mythic have died out...and even if they haven't, there are fewer and fewer who know or read the myths of literature and politics, and fewer and fewer still each year who know or care about them, about anything at all.