Identity

Identity.

There are the facts of my life, where I was born, my upbringing, education, qualifications, occupation, habits, religion, nationality, skin colour, etc. and there is no problem with these ? they are not a source of conflict. But then there is my and other?s interpretation of, and attitude to, the facts. I was born and brought up in England and now I live here in Wales ? ?No problem.? I say, but to some people there is a problem; ?Wales for the Welsh, English go home.? The facts of my life have become an identity ? I have been identified as English. I?ve lived here for 15 years, my children have been brought up here, I vote for the national assembly, but there is no point in argument pitting fact against fact. The question is what is the importance of the facts, to me and to the other fellow. Ownership, entitlement, honour, this is where there is conflict; my country, right or wrong? my religion, right? my profession, under-paid? my people, sadly misunderstood?

Why do we adopt and impose these identities?  Perhaps it is for security, not to be alone; perhaps for convenience, to take advantage of other people; perhaps we cannot bear the feeling of being nothing. Even the identity of ?madman? has its uses as an excuse. There is such comfort in knowing who you are, and knowing that it is ?good? to be that thing, that people will happily die to maintain it, indeed that is the very stuff of being a good Englishman or Christian or whatever.

If I am a teacher, you know not only who I am and how I?m likely to behave, but also how to respond ? to listen and learn and ask polite questions. But if I am not the teacher, then you don?t know what to expect or what is expected of you. Then there is the encounter of two unknowns, and the past cannot help us.