Sartre and Linguistics. I always expected a connection
between these two. As Sartre claims in his paper-cutter example, there is an
odd discomfort in freedom, so we take refuge in establishing identities for
ourselves. I play horn, and I call myself a horn player. However, consider the word play. The form of the word itself tells several possibilities from
the first clause: 1) I am producing a sound with a horn at this very moment 2)
I intend to produce sound on horn right now 3) I regard producing sound on horn
as a profession or a hobby in which I more than often spend my time doing 4) I
act a role in an ensemble as the hornist. However, at what point does that make
me a player? Like learning a
language, when can I proudly say I can speak Portuguese, Japanese, Arabic, or
Russian? The 1st and 4th definitions particularly cover
the objectivity of the matter. The 2nd and 3rd are
subjective, something to be argued perhaps by more experienced horn players,
their ideas of proficiency differing. So, who decides whether I am proficient
enough to be regarded as a horn player and
not just someone who is playing horn?
Primarily, as one, I fall assumedly under the 4th definition, since
I’ve found my niche there over time. Few would argue I am not a horn player at this point, unless there was a
person of considerable pride in his or her experience or expertise to call me
otherwise.
A shared subject of concern young adults hold in development
is Identity. Who am I? What am I? A
common novel type: coming of age. Everyone who approaches developing age and
realizations undergoes this. From what seems evident, everybody explores who
they really are at some point in
their lives—or at several points even.
Millennials were introduced into the world at a unique time,
defined as an age of information. The world is more connected than ever before.
Marriages are increasingly multicultural. Ideas of art, science, and ethics are
expanding rapidly from internet forums and social media. College is the most fertile
environment for such ideas and concepts to grow and be examined by individuals.
The freedom of being broken off from familiar environments—like the company and
ideals of your family—demonstrates a core principle of geographical
development: isolation producing diversity. In addition, especially for those
attending college far away from home, there is a curious mode of interaction
with other students suddenly taken on. This is the point where you are removed
from your own culture.
Something about that apparent isolation tends to bother
individuals, thus causes them to explore. This is where social media and the
internet comes into play. This is also arguably the most knowledgeable age in
human history, where everything seems to have a trail of explanation and
diagnosis. The one that most often is turned to is in the area of psychology.
‘Am I homosexual?’, for instance, can be looked at with
complete freedom at the college age. No matter what one was brought up to
accept as common knowledge, one can now push this knowledge aside and consider
other sources. This is advantageous for coming to the most logical, naked
conclusion. What do I believe? This is such a pressing question for many young
people, looked at as a pursuit for a conclusion or inference for a sense of
stability and direction. Like discovering what sexuality you are, there is
certain security in knowing what you are. So, Sartre notes correctly that we
have some anxiety in freedom. Now, this is from an existentialist’s point of
view. From a deterministic one, anxiety results from the illusion of freedom.
Come to think of it—that either we are in complete control of how we interact
with our environment or that we are predetermined to interact in a certain
way—both possibilities are frightening.
In either case, we find comfort in a definition.
Let’s start with the basics—what we know for sure.
I am.
Everything is. Just look at the world around you without
thinking of words to define it. What do you see? It simply is. It exists. We
exist. I exist. You exist.
What am I? There are a number of ways you could define me. A
writer, a blogger, a philosopher, an idiot, a genius. But I cannot be any of
these without the evaluation and examination of the person who perceives my
existence. So, in every word, there is an opinion—a level of subjectivism.
For a longtime, I thought of myself as a hetero-romantic
asexual. A mouthful isn’t it? My roommate didn’t seem convinced even though I
openly regarded myself as one. In fact, I probably don’t fit in the
conventional label. I like to think of myself as one. But still hasn’t answered
whether I am or not. What does it mean to be a hetero-romantic asexual?
For me, it meant I did not want to have sex, but I still
wanted a romantic relationship. At least that’s what I would tell myself. I
didn’t like the idea of sex, even though I physically enjoy it. But I don’t
like the idea of it to the point I distance myself from association with it, deliberately
cringing at the mention of it, or suddenly becoming Spock-like in reaction. I
was hoping if I act like an asexual, I would become one. But soon I learned,
just like how a homosexual has difficulty being attracted to the opposite sex,
I am indeed straight.
There’s a curiosity to this case, and that is, I feel like I
should know what my orientation is; however, the expected traits of each
orientation seems to have control over me. Can I be gay and act straight? Can I
be a nerd and be interested in sports? Can I be an artist and be socially
healthy? There seems to be a dissonance in these pairings. If I call myself a
writer, will I start acting like one? Personally, whenever I entertain the
idea, I have a stronger affection for cats, a habit to talk in an
intelligent-sounding accent, an increased taste in dark-roasted coffee.
So, where is self in these
pictures if I’m ironically taking on a socially-established identity?
If determinists are correct, and
we are merely complex chemicals conditioned from impressions of our various experiences,
then are labels essentially a list of results? Or are they experiential
influences themselves?
Imagine a world without words. We
would act differently, I’d expect. Words are loaded with links to inferences;
what if those inferences didn’t exist? The association would still be present,
but the absence of sound or written symbols to represent it would allow for
more uncertainty. Everything would simply be.
And that’s all we can say for
sure about anything, including ourselves.
I am.
This essay essentially is about
the influence of labels on our behavior. I just labeled this essay. What did it
mean before I defined it? What is it about now?
You are.
