Who am I?
Identity is one of the BIG IDEAS that pulse through literature because this question echoes throughout our lives. I am reminded daily, as I’ve bungled my way through the art of being an empty nester, our life stories change the response to this question.
Ironically, as I shift my writing into the front and center spot, a book about a writer-in-training came up on my Hoopla shelf. The Messy Lives of Book People by Phaedra Patrick, whose main character housecleaner, Liv, moves through the story, taking on the identity of her boss, a reclusive author, and her favorite character. Liv’s growth and discoveries make the reading a fun romp with a few twists as she accepts a role of ghost writer and steps up to what the situation requires, fooling others (and herself) into believing what she’s barely dared dream of doing. While one aspect of the novel becomes an investigation — isn’t all of life? — Patrick underscores one of the pitfalls of living someone else’s life and the importance of becoming one’s authentic self.
In a related gear, though not as fun, I reread No No Boy by John Okada, to keep up with the reading demands of working with my literature students. The story begins when the main character, Ishiro, steps out of prison and returns “home.” Ichiro, one of about 300 Nisei who were taken with family from their homes, later from so-called internment camps, is imprisoned because he refused to fight in WWII. We follow Ichiro, witnessing several factors that have and will shape his identity, but especially the two extremes — his mother, who clings to the belief that Japan won the war, and his friend, Kenji, who has lost his leg in his military service in the war. Born American, the young man longs to believe this land is without prejudice and discrimination. But the Truth is harsh. Throughout the reading, Okada raises questions about loyalty, generational conflict and identity. This week, as my student finishes up the book, he will respond to some daily quick-write prompts about a few of the factors that shape identity: beliefs, people, ethnicity, and events. I’ve encouraged him to consider his own feelings about his parents who I believe are second generation American, and the choices that lie ahead for him. My young student understood Ichiro’s anger toward his mother who has been a dominant parent, and he felt confused about the father’s role who indulges his wife’s bizarre thought process. What kind of man is he? We’ll continue to discuss these questions and explorer the concept of identity.
What has shaped you? What questions are raised with Who am I? What part of your identity whispers too afraid to show up in the light and which part shouts for attention?
Along the same lines of identity and parent-child relationships, I’ve heard plenty of complaints teens have against parents. While I know this isn’t anything new, I do wonder whether these expressions of dissatisfaction affect me more now because I’ve travelled more in this journey. My own two have questions about their decisions and our influence through the years. Given the time I spend reflecting on their questions, rehashing old mistakes, hoping they’ll come to visit, parenthood still is relevant to my identity.
And considering how many friends or family members have been dropped or cancelled for expressing an opinion, I worry about complaints becoming a more insidious trend fed by social media. Toxic seems to be a familiar and overused word. When is the label justifiable? Will social media’s usual over-simplification of life impact our most important relationships – with our family and ourseves?
Trust me when I say that I’ve walked away from people. At the very least, I encourage youth and even peers to choose friends wisely, to consider how to minimize contact with the energy zappers, the confidence thieves, and the whining voices of the privileged and powerful. I know to keep my distance from people who continually ruin my good mood, color my life gray, question or rebuff me at every turn because fighting– words or fist– isn’t attractive nor very useful in my book.
Of course, sometimes we can’t step away. Whether in the case of a parent or a sibling, or our own self, a pause is sensible, if not mature. Isn’t it in our best interest to untangle resentments and find an end to conflicts? The treat of quiet reflection is not easily enjoyed in our noisy world.
What to do?
Why look at me? It’s not as if I have concrete answers. It’s you who holds your answers.
Some people will choose to burn a bridge. The flames that travel higher and hotter warms our resentment and satisfies a base need for vengeance. To watch it burn feels so right. After all, a bridge only invites crossings that may threaten us. Yet, once the bridge is gone, not only is rebuilding such a tough job, but also finding a better crossing point can be impossible.
While some vigilant ones are skilled at conversation distraction and reboot, others will choose to be brave and speak up in respectful but confident ways– as I watched a young woman do in a conversation with an older family who needed someone to wield a can opener to his head. At the very least we can zip it up and walk away, not to ghost one another, but rather to find the right words. A pause allows for the hope that a bridge will open up. In the best case scenario, we examine our own motives, mistakes, and needs.
Trained by my own mom to avoid head on battles at any cost, I willingly admit a novel to escape into is my favorite away path from challenging people. The world can be scary, so I often enjoy the retreat. I read for the life lessons to deal with the conflicts of humanity.
Who am I? And how does the answer help me manage today’s conflict. Am I the mom in Okada’s book clinging to my version of the truth? Am I Phaedra Patrick’s wanna be author who ignores what’s smack dab in front of her and waiting inside of her?
And what do I do armed with this knowledge? Ah, so many questions. And like the old phrase about books, so little time.
If I dare, I’ll advise parents to ask your child for a hug, if you can. As you are trying to figure out who this kid is — because you’re sure an alien has abducted and replaced your child with an impostor– remember that he, she, or they are struggling to answer the very same question.
Hug or no, my other advice is to pick up a good book, one that teases out some of our biggest questions. Put yourself in someone else’s shoes for awhile. Take a new path. If not for the break from this world, do it understand this world. And while on a journey through someone’s story, maybe you’ll not only ask some BIG QUESTIONS along the way, but also find some of the answers you’re searching for.
One Good Mentor is all you need 