Making Sense of Making Sense of it All: A Few Thoughts on the Pursuit of Identity

During the climax of the ‘08 presidential campaign—arguably the most hopeful and idealistic election in recent memory—I very abruptly stopped feeling idealistic and hopeful about the future of the old U.S. of A. Youthful idealism sustained the Obama campaign. But youthful idealism also necessitates a significant degree of positive energy and optimism, two traits not traditionally associated with my character. But there was a brief stint during the ‘08 election when I really pined for idealism and hope. I was very committed to the cause politics: I rapped my knuckles on countless doors and distributed an embarrassing amount of frankly worthless leaflets, called unsuspecting and mostly ill-tempered voters—in short, it was unbearable to spend any amount of time with me. And then I voted and the election was over. All was quiet again, yet I was left feeling empty and lonely, and ever since I’ve been trying to understand why my idealism had waned so drastically. And what I’ve come to understand is that my idealism was wiped out by a really American form of identity crisis.

Whether you want to admit it so casually or not, we all have crises of identity, and this is especially true of college students. It’s not as though we don’t hear about this when we enter college, but it’s that what we do hear is terribly inaccurate and “vomitifically” generalized. First off, when you enter college you’re told you’re going to change. Now, if you’re anything like me, you’re really offended when adults tell you what you’re going to be like or how you’re supposed to act. And second, we also aren’t too comfortable with the idea of change. For the most part, change in people isn’t always a great thing, initially. Friendships dissolve, relationships are ruined and, for the one changing, it’s an extraordinarily terrifying experience.

Another thing you don’t hear too much about when entering college is how truly frightening it can be. Because college creates a weird atmosphere in which we live as young adults: we’re shown a brief, intense vision of the reality of adulthood, while we’re simultaneously strongly rooted in adolescence. I don’t want to sound as though I’m taking a dig at this way of living. It’s good that we’re living this way – the only problem is that it’s incredibly hard to find the rational middle-ground between the callous reality of adulthood and the idealistic naiveté of adolescence. And that’s why it’s so damn difficult to create some sort of identity during this unbalanced and unsound time in our lives, and I suppose this is why I don’t have the energy anymore to submit myself to causes.

Our American culture has ingrained the idea of the youthful endeavor of self-discovery. We’re obsessed with the freedom of creating our lives for ourselves. And a key component of utilizing this American freedom is creating an identity or a self that’s true and unique to you. But maybe we’re looking at this wrong. Perhaps an identity isn’t something to be created. Perhaps by consciously creating an identity for myself, I ultimately receive an identity not faithful to who I am, whoever that is. And maybe, just maybe, the great epic effort of discovery or creating your identity is the identity in itself. But who really knows.

Maybe there is something special inside of us all, and maybe it’s good if we think this way. But ultimately, all I know about myself is that I feel incomplete. Now, this isn’t a bad feeling. In fact it’s probably good that I feel this way, because it nudges me in my side and whispers very fervently in my ear that I’ve got something to say, some cosmic promise or truth to uphold, a truth not yet attained and yet a part of us all. Now, I know these last few sentences have gotten somewhat transcendental and come off gaggingly cliché. Nevertheless, I think it’s how a lot of us feel. Sometimes the most fundamental and essential truths lie in the midst of clichés and sentimentalism. So maybe these little crises of identity aren’t so bad after all, depending on your perspective. (It’s all very complicated.)