My Response
Who am I? When I initially posed the question to myself several days ago I was lost. I searched within myself for the perfect answer, an answer that would be so profound that it would give my life purpose and meaning. I found no such answer, just more questions. I hoped that some of my closest associates and friends would be able to provide some direction to the answer for my own question by answering that simple question for themselves. Unfortunately, I did not discover in them an answer that helped me define who I was. Once again I was left with more questions. How do I define myself?
Some define themselves by their ethnic background. I’m black, white, African, African-American, Chinese, Korean, Irish, Egyptian and so fourth. I simply see myself as American. Now as plain and uncontroversial I thought that was, I have come under attack several times for that label. “You are a race hater. You hate yourself. Why are you denying your heritage,” are just some of the things that have been said as a response to my self classification. I do not label myself as an African-American and that upset some persons within the “black” community. I’m not a sell out and have not been brain washed into disowning my past. However, I embrace both my past, my present and future. Thus, I do not claim to be someone that I am not. I was born in America, so were my parents, their parents, their parents’ parents and a few more parents’ parents. My family can trace back their history into slavery, but nothing further. Should I claim to be of African decent when I could actually be of Cuban decent, or some other country that laid between the path from Africa to America? Since I can trace my roots to America and I know with no doubt in my mind I’m an American, I call myself American. Is that wrong? (Yet another question)
As a homosexual male, I get the feeling that I’m supposed to define myself by my sexuality, wear a sign around my neck that proclaims to the word: I’M GAY!!!! I know this is not who I am. Yes, I am a homosexual male, but that only defines who I choose to be romantically involved with not who I am as a person. I do not feel the need to walk around and draw attention to the fact that I’m attracted to other males. But as I think on it deeper, are those persons who wear their sexuality like their skin closer to finding out who they are than I am? I am a gay man; it’s a fact, but not who I am.
So who am I? Honestly, I no longer know the answer to that question. I realize while writing this that I have been living a lie. Most of who I think I am is nothing more than a front, an image of the person I wish I was. I’m not the fun party animal that I sometime portray myself to be (or at least that’s how I think I’m seen at times), I’m not witty, “hood,” or social able. All those things are characteristics I wished really defined the person within. I force myself to have fun, try to make friends and be the center of attention. These are things I lacked in my childhood and I’m trying to capture them back. But being fun, needing to grasp attention and making friends is more of a job to me than something that comes natural. And like a job, some days I just don’t want to put the front on. I’m rude, I seclude myself from everyone and I’m a down right bore to be around. It is at that very moment I begin to search for who I am. Am I really just a miserable human being that hides behind brutal honesty? When I’m in my non-caring, natural feeling mood, I really don’t care about other people’s feelings. My reasoning for not caring and not being a bad person for not caring is simple, I’m honest.
Now I’m convinced that there is more to me than all of this. Yes everything in the prior paragraph is a part of me, but now the question is, how much of a part of me is it? As I sit and think about who I am, I take comfort in knowing who I’m not. I’m not a liar, I’m not someone who is afraid to admit when they have made a mistake and I’m not afraid to ask for help. Maybe I’m making this too difficult on myself. Maybe who I am really lies in who I am not. Maybe the fact that I stand by my own values and beliefs is who I am. I am my own person. Is that the true answer to who I am?
Some define themselves by their ethnic background. I’m black, white, African, African-American, Chinese, Korean, Irish, Egyptian and so fourth. I simply see myself as American. Now as plain and uncontroversial I thought that was, I have come under attack several times for that label. “You are a race hater. You hate yourself. Why are you denying your heritage,” are just some of the things that have been said as a response to my self classification. I do not label myself as an African-American and that upset some persons within the “black” community. I’m not a sell out and have not been brain washed into disowning my past. However, I embrace both my past, my present and future. Thus, I do not claim to be someone that I am not. I was born in America, so were my parents, their parents, their parents’ parents and a few more parents’ parents. My family can trace back their history into slavery, but nothing further. Should I claim to be of African decent when I could actually be of Cuban decent, or some other country that laid between the path from Africa to America? Since I can trace my roots to America and I know with no doubt in my mind I’m an American, I call myself American. Is that wrong? (Yet another question)
As a homosexual male, I get the feeling that I’m supposed to define myself by my sexuality, wear a sign around my neck that proclaims to the word: I’M GAY!!!! I know this is not who I am. Yes, I am a homosexual male, but that only defines who I choose to be romantically involved with not who I am as a person. I do not feel the need to walk around and draw attention to the fact that I’m attracted to other males. But as I think on it deeper, are those persons who wear their sexuality like their skin closer to finding out who they are than I am? I am a gay man; it’s a fact, but not who I am.
So who am I? Honestly, I no longer know the answer to that question. I realize while writing this that I have been living a lie. Most of who I think I am is nothing more than a front, an image of the person I wish I was. I’m not the fun party animal that I sometime portray myself to be (or at least that’s how I think I’m seen at times), I’m not witty, “hood,” or social able. All those things are characteristics I wished really defined the person within. I force myself to have fun, try to make friends and be the center of attention. These are things I lacked in my childhood and I’m trying to capture them back. But being fun, needing to grasp attention and making friends is more of a job to me than something that comes natural. And like a job, some days I just don’t want to put the front on. I’m rude, I seclude myself from everyone and I’m a down right bore to be around. It is at that very moment I begin to search for who I am. Am I really just a miserable human being that hides behind brutal honesty? When I’m in my non-caring, natural feeling mood, I really don’t care about other people’s feelings. My reasoning for not caring and not being a bad person for not caring is simple, I’m honest.
Now I’m convinced that there is more to me than all of this. Yes everything in the prior paragraph is a part of me, but now the question is, how much of a part of me is it? As I sit and think about who I am, I take comfort in knowing who I’m not. I’m not a liar, I’m not someone who is afraid to admit when they have made a mistake and I’m not afraid to ask for help. Maybe I’m making this too difficult on myself. Maybe who I am really lies in who I am not. Maybe the fact that I stand by my own values and beliefs is who I am. I am my own person. Is that the true answer to who I am?
posted by Jay at
5:06 PM
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