Yesterday I told my students how enraged American colonists burned effigies of tax collectors after Britain passed the stamp act. I meant to say effigies but I really just said burned tax collectors and someone said “Wow!” They all looked so shocked and I thought well I guess that is pretty shocking. And then like 10 hands went up. One girl said “Is this because of the transportation act of 1718? Were all these convicts suddenly out of control?” And I thought, yeah, that probably was part of it. Then someone else said “Did the tax collectors resist?” I’m getting confused now…someone else asked “why would you become a tax collector anyway?” And then this girl said “My research tells me it is because you are so lonely.” And then I just started laughing, and it was the kind of laughing where I started tearing up and I just couldn’t stop. So they started laughing. And then I said “Did I forget to say it was effigies of tax collectors?” And then they went “ohhhhh.” I continued to try to compose myself and then cleared up that it was not ACTUAL tax collectors who were being burned and then I realized that my class remembered from the last lecture that 1) there was a transportation act of 1718, and then 2) applied it to the class that was in motion. I was so happy I gave them all an extra point on their test and they were confused but delighted at their crazy teacher’s madness.And that is one true event that describes what it is really like to be me. I show up to a little portable 3 times a week and make my students have to think about why things happen in life and what that means. Sometimes I forget that they are listening to me and taking me so seriously that if I wrote pumpkin pie as the reason for the French and Indian War they would write it down. The only time in the day when I am unaware of how much time is passing is when I’m teaching. It is also the only time I forget about every terrible thing that happened earlier (I’m talking about you smart car that tried to kill me on the 75/635 interchange) and forget my plans for what I’m going to eat that won’t make me look too bloated in my spandex workout pants at my job that night. Teaching turns off any awareness I have of myself and while this does cause me to accidently fling dry erase markers at my students and to say the Frances (instead of the French) it is the only time that I feel what is happening actually matters. And because it has meaning, I don’t have to have the thoughts run through my head of what is the point of this? (And yes I really do think that about everything else I do from eating a Pop Tart to putting gas in my car).
That’s something that is real about me but I don’t share that with people. When I ask myself why that is, I think that it is because I am not immune to the online craze where identity is defined by 300 characters, a couple line picture comments, and clever, short, back and forth exchanges. I think that subconsciously, we are all creating these little online versions of ourselves that we laugh about taking too seriously..but we do take them seriously. I will say, oh that’s just facebook, it doesn’t really matter. But that’s such a lie, because when I flip through it with a discerning eye, it is either people trying to get attention, trying to pretend they are above getting attention, mocking someone who posts too much (when you only know that because you have been online all day too). Articles keep talking about the extreme depression facebook users get from reading about weddings, babies, jobs, etc and comments keep denying that is true. ”I don’t care how awesome people are doing, it’s just facebook.” Yeah, yeah you do because all of your posts make it sound like you are a big ball of awesome that never sits around folding laundry, eating chicken wings. I know you are really folding laundry and eating chicken wings but you have one hand on your laptop wondering why you aren’t doing something better than folding laundry and eating chicken wings.
I don’t think these observations are mind blowing or anything, but I do think it makes it so hard to connect with anyone because I don’t think anyone can tell who they actually are anymore. I peaked into online dating this last week and I kept thinking about that. In an online dating profile, people try to tell you who they are. They answer personality questions, but my problem with this is, I know my answers will be lies. Not intentional lies, but I know that in an effort to try to put a good foot forward, I’ll promote that facebook persona without realizing it. And that is kind of a representation of who I am, but it isn’t really me. I know the other person is doing that too, and it feels like robot dating. Online dating is great because it lets you connect with people based on issues and opinions that you both share. But are both of these people being honest with themselves when they fill out these profiles? Probably not.It’s almost like dating is like historiography (I know that sounds ridiculous) but instead of learning about someone through what they wrote down you have to think about why they would write down what they did. Do I care if they like a certain band because of the music or do I look at that and think why they would have chosen to write that down? What more clearly defines your identity what you do/what you write or how you feel about what you do/or write?
So the guy that told me he wanted to chat with me, that he makes puppets that look like people, and he only uses small coffee cups because large coffee cups are reserved for his lord and savior Jesus Christ, I can only wonder what he was intending. While he is clearly odd, I think my motives are just as difficult to decipher. In an age where physical action comes second to digital communication, how do I know if I’m clearly communicating my identity? I think that is why dating in general is so hard for me. I don’t have a list of criteria, and I tend to go with how I feel/how that person or event makes me feel. Gets me in trouble, and I’ve been told I need boundaries and ground rules. (No stabbing me is a pretty concrete rule) But I’m not a robot. And I know multiple people that like Game of Thrones, but I feel differently about all of them.
So if I had to pick one thing that I don’t put on display as part of my true identity, I think I’ll pick that I listen to violent, rap music and eat ice cream sandwiches at 4am before i go to work.