To begin, I should probably state my simultaneous comfort and discomfort at an assigned blog post. I know - I knew that I was in for this, because it says so right on the syllabus: "Occasionally I will prescribe writing exercises to be posted on your blog, but this will largely be your own space to create a self for public display." (Why yes, I did just quote the class syllabus on my blog...) When I first saw that, I was relieved. I am typically the kind of person who works better under direction; ask me to draw/write/whatever "anything" for you, and you will likely stump me. Tell me to do something specific, and I promise you, it will get done. So, when I saw that I would at least be given some guidance, sometimes, my first thought was something along the lines of "Huh, this won't be so bad." And then, either somewhere along the way, I got a little too attached to this thing as "my own space," or maybe I'm just nervous because the idea of an "assignment" seems like a much more legitimate thing than me being angsty about writing about myself or recounting my epic zoo adventures.
...Anyway, that's all I really have to say about that. There's no real resolution or point to it, but there you go. And that I've gotten that out of the way, I promise that I will actually do my homework now.
I'm really with Smith and Watson (of Reading Autobiography: A Guide for Interpreting Life Narratives) on the idea that the "unified story" and "coherent self" are "myths of identity." "We are always fragmented in time," they go on to say, "taking a particular or provisional perspective on the moving target of our pasts, addressing multiple and disparate audiences" (p.47). Even within the comparatively small timespan of a day, I feel as though there are multiple selves that I present to the world; I feel "fragmented." I really don't do this intentionally, or, at least I don't think I do. It isn't always anything as drastic as putting on a mask, either. (Although I do admit to doing that when I feel it's appropriate.) But I unconsciously present myself differently to different people.
Take the blood drive, today: I came in, signed in, found some friends to hang out with while waiting, and was generally pretty relaxed, social - working on coordinating our schedules and getting some more business-y things done. When one of the nurses reprimanded us for not being organized and knowing what order we were donating in (no one gave us numbers or anything; no one seemed to know whose job it actually was to know this), I immediately jumped up, absconded with the sign-in list from the people working at the sign-in table and started calling out names and assigning numbers. I assure you, I didn't do this because I like to, as my friend so eloquently put it "run shit," but as a defense mechanism - I don't like being criticized, and my immediate response (other than to feel extremely guilty) is to correct the problem by any means necessary, whether I created it or not. (I'm sure my even writing this could be interpreted as "defensive"... maybe it is?) Finally being called to take blood, I was nervous and chatty with the nurses, and subsequently extremely apologetic (Like, let's play: how many "I'm sorrys" can you fit into one conversation?) when I was rejected for low iron. Then, I was scheduled to volunteer at the drive from 4-6 anyway, and while there, I was mostly in what I guess is most accurately described as my "social/professional" zone (probably originally developed at the shelter), in which I attempted to project helpfulness, cheerfulness, competence - and was talkative to the nth degree. (This is alternatively probably seen as extremely put-together and/or extremely annoying, depending on who you are, what kind of day you've been having, and whether or not you actually want my help.) As I left for dinner at 6:30 with another friend (who was also working at the drive), I had the actual, palpable sense of, like, turning the hyperdrive off on my personality, and just being able to chill and be (mostly) myself around her, on the walk to dinner.
I went through all of these different "projections" (I use quotations to indicate that they were not, in fact, merely projections, but actually different versions of how I was/am, depending on the circumstances) in the span of a few hours, having to shift between them instantaneously as the need arose - without even realizing I was doing it. God-forbid I actually had to write down all of this and pretend to be one, cohesive person! I'm not one, cohesive person. I don't think anyone is. Not only do we obviously change from year to year, from experience to experience as we grow and change and learn and refine our "selves," but as I've just demonstrated, we even change projections depending on the time of day, who we're talking to, and really, even, just how we happen to be feeling at that moment.
Trying to force all of that into a single, unified thing would be stifling; it would be a hollow, empty shell of a person, and probably a life narrative that would be pretty dull to read.
Life is inconsistent, people are inconsistent, I am inconsistent.
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