On the margins of this article that I just got accepted for publication, my former thesis advisor wrote, "Why this schizoid obsession with identity?!?" She was right in that I have been studying collective identity for years with a scary dedication. The reason I'm so interested in collective identity is that I'm not comfortable with the one I have been assigned by being born into my culture. The Russian-speaking culture, that is.
Today, for example, we went to a Russian grocery store in St. Louis. I dressed with more care that I put into dressing for the opera. Then, I applied make-up for 40 minutes, which is something I never do unless I'm about to meet my fellow Russian-speakers. I know that people will be judgmental, they will stare and make disapproving sounds if you are not 100% put together. If you are a woman, that is. Nobody cares what you look like if you are a man. And then people will make strange comments, whose meaning I will not be able to decipher. Which will make me feel like a complete idiot.
This was the reason I left my country 12 years ago. I was extremely uncomfortable with my own people. And they aren't bad people, or anything. There are many great things about the Russian-speaking culture. The problem is that I always felt completely alien to it. When I moved to North America, I lost out financially. I don't think I will ever have the same level of economic well-being here as I had there. I obviously lost out in social status because an immigrant is always an immigrant. I really lost out in terms of food because now I have to schlep all the way to St. Louis to get my favorite food. But it was all worth it because now I'm around people I get. And who get me. And that's worth more than I can explain to anybody who has not experienced life in a culture where you feel you have no idea what people are doing and why.
So here is the reason why I study identity, trying to figure out how it works.
24 comments:
Have you reach Sharansky's Identity book? I just recently finished it and am still mulling it all over. I'd love to know your thoughts about it.
Welcome back, Serene! :-)
I obviously disagree with every word of Sharansky's 'Defending Identity." I feel a lot of compassion for what he went through as a GULAG prisoner but his analysis is very one-dimensional and lacks profundity. He has convinced himslef that the Soviet leadership made efforts to erode identity when the opposite was true. As many Soviet-era dissidents, he believes that there is this paradisiacal realm of "democracy" (represented by the US) where everything is good and rosy. That is, indeed, how the world looked from behind the Iron Curtain. But this vision is, at the very least, very dated.
Here's where I'm going with it so far, though as I said I'm still mulling... I think that we in the US are too afraid of identity. Or, rather, progressive/left-leaning/liberals or whatever. We're afraid of strong identities and on that point I think Sharansky's right. I think our fear of strong identities has us erring on the side of too much tolerance. We put up with really bad behavior in the name of cultural differences/identity.
That said, I think his definition of identity is (as you said) dated. The notion that identity needs to have long historical roots, for example, is bizarre to me.
As human beings I think most of us have some desire to fit into a group or groups, and that's where I think identity can play a positive role.
More on this later. And, yes, I'm sort of coming back into the public sphere. In some spaces. :-)
(Any chance you could fix that "reach" typo to read "read?" If not, I'll breeeeeeathe through it. :-)
--Heather
I also wanted to add (I said I was obsessive about this!) that Sharansky seems to believe that there is a difference between a collective identity imposed by the state and a collective identity that isn't (religious identity is a strong example for him). But in reality, there is no difference. Every collective identity uses the same mechanisms to form and impose itself. All differences are purely cosmetic.
These mechanisms of identity formation are what I analyze in my work.
I totally agree with your also wanted to add comment. He's deluding himself. Did you see my brief critique blog post on the book?
"We're afraid of strong identities and on that point I think Sharansky's right. I think our fear of strong identities has us erring on the side of too much tolerance. We put up with really bad behavior in the name of cultural differences/identity."
-There is a contradiction here, I think. If we put up with a lot for the sake of tolerating identities (which we do, that's true), this isn't fear. It's kind of the opposite.
No, not a contradiction, just sloppy writing. A fear of offending other people, a fear that we might imply we think our identity is better if we point out flaws in other people's identities. I'm thinking in particular of something like "honor killings" or other women's rights issues. We (speaking for the left) are so afraid of seeming like we're the judgmental fools who actually do believe their identities are superior (the Dominionists) that we remain too silent and passive.
Is that more clear?
I think it's brave to accept other identities as equally valid. In fact, I remember a conversation in some freshman class in college where the teacher pinned me down when I said I believe all cultures are equally valid. She raised her voice, stood next to me in front of the class and said, "What about infanticide!" And I said, totally believing it at the time (still conflicted, honestly, as I don't believe in imposing my values on others, or, at least, this is my current conflict), "If infanticide is an accepted part of the culture, then it is okay for that culture."
Now I'm rambling.
I haven't been able to reach your blog for a while. It looked blocked, or something. Or maybe it's my technical ineptitude. But now I tried and I can access it.
That's for sharing an entirely new perspective. A whole lot of diaspora writing wrt India revolves around NOT feeling at home in America (eg. Jhumpa Lahiri's, The Namesake). It is interesting to know that for you it was quite the opposite.
My identity is, I think, summed up by my name here. I am a Pagan. I am a Topologist. I am sometimes troubled a bit by a comment I heard about the latter, when someone told me several years ago, that identifying oneself by occupation was a white skin privilege. I hope this is not true.
I can identify myself in many other ways, also, of course: A white Appalachian male who never fit into that culture. A devoted fan of science fiction and fantasy literature. A lover of music who cannot sing on key at all. A heterosexual married polyamorous male. But all these seem secondary to the first two.
The reason I am posting this is to say that the idea of studying identity must be very difficult, since it is so very individual and maybe even chaotic. I am deeply impressed that you are doing so.
"I am sometimes troubled a bit by a comment I heard about the latter, when someone told me several years ago, that identifying oneself by occupation was a white skin privilege."
-Identifying oneself through one's profession is usually pretty unproblematic because it is something you chose, not something that has been imposed on you by the fact of being born into a certain culture, certain religious group, etc. The most problematic identities are the ones that aren't chosen, but rather, the ones that exist outside of our choice.
“There are many great things about the Russian-speaking culture. The problem is that I always felt completely alien to it.”
I know exactly how you feel. When I was younger, I went on a camping trip with a group of Aussies across part of Russia. When we were in Vyborg just north of Leningrad, we stayed at a camp ground on the Baltic coast. From the front it looked like a penal colony in the Gulag. In the evening they had flood lights, guard dogs and a ten foot fence with barbed wire on the top. We got bored so we explored the back of the camp and discovered that the back fence had big gaping holes in it and people were walking in and out so instead of feeling like prisoners we ended up drinking on the beach with some hot Russian chicks. By the way. If you ever go to Russia don’t wear a t-shirt that says “Canadian National Drinking Team” on the back of it. Really bad idea!
I love the nickname "Canukistani." :-)
I can see that you found a way to be a lot more comfortable with my people than I am. :-)
Speaking of identity: I am somewhat surprised that a Ukrainian speaker would consider her self a member of the Russian speaking culture. You once confessed to resenting the Poles for their claims to Western parts of the Ukraine well I would think that most Ukrainians would resent the Russians as well for submerging an independent state into the Russian Empire and then into the Soviet Union.
Richard, you are right, as usual. :-) My post-colonial resentment against Russia is profound. I grew up in a city that's located on the norder with Russia, in the north-eastern part of Ukraine. We spoke Russian at home. Measures were taken by Russian Empire first and the Soviet Russia second to make Ukrainians feel ashamed of their language and culture. I love Ukrainian culture and literature deeply but it's difficult for me to speak Ukrainian because I never had a chance to speak Ukrainian in my daily life.
So by virtue of my mother tongue, which is Russian, I am - against my wishes - an unwilling member of the Russian-speking culture.
This is why I always feel that I have no language of my own. The language I speak at home I associate with colonial domination and genocide, which is very traumatic.
I could have never imagined that this post would generate such an enthusiastic response from people. I guess it means I should keep writing about identity.
Your background certainly explains your identity issues. You grew up speaking the language of your country’s oppressors, who were and are largely anti-Semitic to boot. I would say that you have done very well for yourself in maintaining your equilibrium with that kind of background.
“My post-colonial resentment against Russia is profound.”
I understand your feelings and I understand why USSR fractured so soon. When I was there the Byelorussians resented the Russians, the people in St. Petersburg looked down on the Muscovites and the Muscovites looked down on everyone else. I remember talking to a Russian hottie name Tanya who asked me why I was visiting the worker’s paradise. I said that I was taking time off from my day job of oppressing the masses. She asked why would do that? “Conditions determine consciousness (Lenin)” I replied. She didn’t get the joke. I guess she missed Commie 101. Are you following Lenin’s lead on Identity?
"I would say that you have done very well for yourself in maintaining your equilibrium with that kind of background."
-This is precisely why I have immersed myself into the English- and the Spanish-speaking cultures. This is my attempts to substitute for my own lack of linguistic and cultural identity.
"When I was there the Byelorussians resented the Russians, the people in St. Petersburg looked down on the Muscovites and the Muscovites looked down on everyone else."
-That is very true. And it still is. I can't watch any TV show from Russia because the number of nasty jokes about Ukrainians is offensive to me.
The problem with Lenin is that as a very astute politician he always said and wrote whatever was politically expedient at that time. This is why his message is so often so contradictory.
How curious that this obsession is 'schizoid'!
This was one of the nicer things my thesis director said to me. :-)
Identity - wow!!!
Want my story? But first I want to say that I never felt so good and so in place like here in US. this is my country!!!
I was a child of a mixed marriage. Not only different countries, languages, religions, continents - everything is different between my parents countries - Bulgaria and Syria. Then the divorce. Then first grade in this pure, middle class, all Bulgarian neighborhood.... "You must change your kids name, it sounds different..." the principal of the school to my mother. So here goes my first name change. I grow with the awful feeling of this name not being me!!!...
AroUnd my 11 y. my father came to Bulgaria to visit. the yelling, the screaming that I am an Arab, not Bulgarian (hehe - just few years ago mom changed my arab name to pure BG name - I got all my BG grandfathers names)'......
Than my mom in my 13 y. of age decided that I have to go and visit my father.
I went and since that year I began going to Syr every so few years. .... Do i have to go and explain all the manure(I would use the other word, but not here in this blog) my folks pored onto me becouse of their hatred towards each other??? Spare me! The point is that I was the BG slut - becouse in country like BG every woman is such, and lazy and stupid woman, becouse all women is Syria are like that. You thing that's the end?
yeee right! At my 16 birthday I got all my papers, went and named myself the way I was feeling is right - a first name I loved and returned my father's names, becouse that's how it is suppose to be. Ooooo, I was happy!!! Till the day I got the wonderful opportunity to go and study higher education in Moscow. Since it was trough Syria I had to go with a Syrian passport... and since my father would care less and never changed my name from the burth name to the one I liked, I had to leave with my first name, which I absolutely hated!!!! Oooooo, do I make any sense? Do you follow??? So I got called in Moscow again with different name......... all together in my life so far I had 5 different names - 3 different firs names and 2 different sir, and last names(there was period when I had my grandpa's first name and my fathers family name.... that's before I myself changed the name) Not to forget the teasing from some classmates in middle school.... Ooo, and even in my 20s and 30s, I was the BG-Syr whatever for my parents, till the day my mother passed away. Ooh, just remembering how hard I tried to please them!!! All in vain. I am still not the good Arab woman I am supposed to be in my fathers eyes. I don't know I haven't seen him for the last 5 years, haven't heard if his opinion on the matter changed.....
I LOVE USA, I FINALY BELONG WITHOUT JUDGING ME AND I CAN SAY WHO I AM WITHOUT THE FEAR OF HURTING SOMEBODY'S SUPEREGO and without the hearing of unsolicited opinion on who am I!!!
Identity - wow!!!
Want my story? But first I want to say that I never felt so good and so in place like here in US. this is my country!!!
I was a child of a mixed marriage. Not only different countries, languages, religions, continents - everything is different between my parents countries - Bulgaria and Syria. Then the divorce. Then first grade in this pure, middle class, all Bulgarian neighborhood.... "You must change your kids name, it sounds different..." the principal of the school to my mother. So here goes my first name change. I grow with the awful feeling of this name not being me!!!...
AroUnd my 11 y. my father came to Bulgaria to visit. the yelling, the screaming that I am an Arab, not Bulgarian (hehe - just few years ago mom changed my arab name to pure BG name - I got all my BG grandfathers names)'......
Than my mom in my 13 y. of age decided that I have to go and visit my father.
I went and since that year I began going to Syr every so few years. .... Do i have to go and explain all the manure(I would use the other word, but not here in this blog) my folks pored onto me becouse of their hatred towards each other??? Spare me! The point was that I was the BG slut - becouse in country like BG every woman is such, and lazy and stupid woman, becouse all is Syria are like t.... You thing that's the end?
yeee right! At my 16 birthday I got all my papers and went and named myself the way I was feeling is right - a first name I loved and returned my father's names, becouse that's how it is suppose to be. Ooooo, I was happy!!! Till the day I got the wonderful opportunity to go and study higher education in Moscow. Since it was trough Syria I had to go with an Syrian passport... and since my father would care less and never changed my name from the burth name to the one I liked, I had to leave with my first name, which I absolutely hated!!!! Oooooo, do I make any sense? Do you follow??? So I got called in Moscow again with different name......... all together in my life so far I had 5 different names 3 first names and 2 last...(there was period when I had my grandpa's first name and my fathers family name.... that's before I myself changed the name) Ooo, and even in my 20s and 30s, I was the BG-Syr whatever for my parents, till the day my mother passed away. Ooh, just remembering how hard I tried to please them!!! All in vain. I am still not the good Arab woman I am supposed to be in my fathers eyes. I don't know I haven't seen him for the last 5 years, haven't heard if his opinion on the matter changed..... Like I care anymore, I am 44 now!!!
I LOVE USA, I FINALY BELONG!!! NO JUDGING WHO AM I , NO FEAR OF SAYING WHO I AM SO NOT TO HURT SOMEBODY'S SUPEREGO, WITHOUT HEARING UNOOLICITED OPINIONS ON THE MATTER... I FINALY FEEL FREE!!!!!!!!!!!
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