I imagine the residents of the little boxes as people who have worked their way up from poverty. Steven Jay Gould’s family is an example. “Papa Joe, [Gould’s grandfather] who possessed extraordinary artistic talents that remained undeveloped and underutilized, lived an ordinary life as a garment worker in New York City. He enjoyed periods of security and endured bouts of poverty; he and my grandmother raised four children, all imbued with the ordinary values that ennoble our species and nation: fairness, kindness, the need to persevere and rise by one's own efforts. In the standard pattern, his generation struggled to solvency; my parents graduated from high school, fought a war, and moved into the middle classes; the third cohort achieved a university education, and some of us have enjoyed professional success.” “September 11, 1901" http://hermiene.net/essays-trans/september_11_1901.html
Shouldn’t those who sing for ordinary people in songs like “This Land is Your Land” congratulate rather than sneer at the ones who make it into the middle class?