On Identity
There is a tendency, one that I believe to be misguided, to try and reduce things down to something singular. Whether that is via the form of grouping things into a simple classification, or whether it is trying to find a specific, singular foundation, there appears to me to be a reticence to engage with the complexity of some things.
Identity is complex. There are forms of identity we are given no choice over: our biological sex; our height; our family; the culture we are surrounded by; etc. There are others which we can choose: our job; our fashion; communities; etc. However, further to this, there are ways we engage with these identities. For example, how strongly we subscribe to an element of identity, how large a role it plays in public or personal life, what brings out certain emotions or drives.
To what extent can one choose their identity? To what extent must it be grounded in something concrete? Is it appropriate for me to consider myself a writer, having published no books? Is it appropriate for me to consider myself a gamer when I don’t like all games? Is it appropriate to do away with family identity if one becomes estranged from one’s family? Is it appropriate to feel national pride for your home nation, even if you were not born there? Such questions, I think, are attacking the problem incorrectly. They assume a rubric by which one can measure “real” identity, which is almost on its face indefensible.
I think identity is something that is significantly more flexible that people give credit: however, only if one can be critical with their identity. For many, identity is closely tied to emotion, and when this is the case, identity becomes much more static. One’s political identity, for example, often leads to a kind of emotional tie to certain positions, which then leads to entrenchment in whatever politics one subscribes to. Criticism of such political positions becomes infuriating, and feels like an attack on oneself rather than on the held position. But politics is only one example. What of national identity? National pride? How this can turn into nationalist tendencies? What of communities like religion? How the religious become almost instinctively defensive when a criticism is levied at the religion as a whole, rather than directly at them? It seems to me one of the healthiest things one can do is to distance themselves from identity such that emotions no longer play as large a role.
Alas, having weaker ties to ones identity creates an elegant pathway to identity crisis. Identity crisis is an experience that is, perhaps, one of the most psychologically challenging to deal with in a healthy manner. When one’s identity is in flux, especially on a significant level, this can be brutal. But why should it be so? Perhaps because society demands identity. Lack of belonging raises concerns in others: you become an unpredictable element, untrustworthy to the group. Infighting and purity testing seem to be to originate here. This, I believe, is a social sickness to be done away with.
This is not to say that identity itself should be viewed with suspicion. Finding that which you truly identify with is important, even if by its very nature it must always be in flux. Temporal, geographical, epistemological changes can and ought have an impact on what you identify with. But perhaps this is how we can really find ourselves: through understanding how much we change, and refusing to assign something static to such a changeable thing as a human. But it’s hard. There are things I used to identify with strongly that I now despise. It is not straightforward to disallow that from warping into self-hatred, even if that is of the past self. In fact, I feel it is wise to incorporate previous identities into your current and future ones: who you are now must necessarily be informed by who you were in the past.
As for core identities, I suspect there is no such thing. The infinitude of ways one can incorporate aspects of their identity into how they navigate life, the vastness of what one can choose to identify with, seem to explicate this. What does this mean for authenticity, then? Perhaps authenticity must also always be in flux, in which case, what does the term even refer to? For most, authenticity is also something relatively static. It is a way of being, one that is not affected by temporal, cultural, societal, or other change. Can we think of authenticity as being something in flux, the same as and perhaps even necessitated by flux in identity? Surely this is the only way to make sense of it. Perhaps even more pressing: how does one decide what to identify with, and to what extent, and in what manner?
It seems to me that we must be the continual authors of ourselves, never allowed to put down the pen, ripping out pages and writing new ones, revising, changing, adding, subtracting. Further, it is authorship with no template. No lines on the page. No structure, grammar, or syntax. So I ask - mainly myself - is this something to be in crisis over? Or is it the greatest opportunity for creativity we all possess?