Amanda Reid |Owning labels

Reid About It! | An American Identity Crisis

By Amanda Reid 09/12/16 11:13pm

I’ve never doubted who I was. Asian, White, Mixed, Girl, Young — any of these could apply, but none of these mattered. So, more precisely, I was never aware of what I was.

Having attended an international school, my cultural and ethnic identities were of little concern, and could not define me. How can labels completely explain my me-ness, and the experience I took to get there? A Westernized, Asiatic, passport-carrying American with ethnically ambiguous facial features? No checkmark can bring together the entirety of that being. As such, I didn’t rely much on cultural identity as an introduction to who I was.

I distinctly remember filling out the Common App and coming to terms with the checkboxes that defined my racial category. I was about to tick off “Asian” before my father stopped me and said that it was a bad idea considering the applicant pool for Asians is more competitive, and the odds would be stacked against me. I ticked it anyway, but the question reappears so often that the decision gains more weight as time goes on.

The United States is diverse, but complicated in its diversity. For instance, looking at the U.S. Census Bureau in 2000, there are five different checkboxes for the question: “Is this person Spanish/Hispanic/Latino?” when the question is phrased in a yes/no form. There were different answers that distilled someone’s ethnicity and background into separate and distinct categories.

One of the most beautiful, powerful resources in the United States is diversity: diversity of opinion, of culture and of experience. Ignore the hackneyed expressions that sometimes conveniently deny racial conflict; the concept of diversity is enough to sustain that part of Americanism that is rooted in values and not physical identity. “Being an American” isn’t tied to hereditary, ethnic or racial markers, rather it is supposed to be a culmination of “wanting to be here.”

Diversity allows us to move beyond our differences to gain an extensive knowledge of our collective humanity. But with diversity comes the unfortunate need to differentiate ourselves, whether it be for safety, comfort or the sheer need to be recognized as an individual.

Coming to America was an experience that left me stranded. I found myself in a Walmart aisle of people I could be, people I am and people I’m definitely not. There was a collection of labels I could try on, but other labels like gender, race and ethnicity seemed to eclipse the rest of me.

Knowing oneself is power, but hyper-awareness of oneself is not. We’d like to think we own the labels we’ve put on ourselves, but this is rarely the case. In a diverse society that is deeply mired in complex racial and ethnic strife, to form group clusters that are defined by a common oppression is a safeguard, or physical marker, under a unifying label.

On top of the other identity-specific problems — like issues around ethnicity or gender — the frustration also lies in the almost totalizing weight of being aware, constantly, of your identity. Instead of letting the characterization of my own self unfurl and progress naturally, I’m somehow deeply aware of the labels that precede me. People remark on my ability to speak English fluently, as if that’s something strange, and I feel the need to gravitate toward the Asian interest groups to be legitimate as a person.

Self-labelling feeds into an identity crisis that already exists within many young, developing 20-year-olds’ lives. This identity crisis is induced when we are constantly aware of ourselves, and leads to an isolation from groups that don’t define themselves with our label. Alternatively, when we are with a group that does, not fitting in seems like a deeply self-rooted flaw.

Labels are good for being aware of the societal burdens that a person outside yourself might experience. Acknowledging that someone is different than you can help develop your sensitivity toward others, and can prevent future awkwardness.

Labelling yourself under a single label places a constraint on self-exploration. The modern American identity crisis is exaggerated by the need to self-identify correctly. For instance, instead of ticking the box that says “Mexican, Mexican-American, Chicano,” it’d be easier to just say “I’m American,” or “I really like riding horses,” identifiers that aren’t tied down to racial labels.

“American” is potentially too big of a label to put yourself under because it doesn’t describe the subtleties of one’s cultural heritage and experience, especially if one is a minority. However, the added labels that allow oneself to find solace in a communal experience is in fact a destabilization of the self as well.

Only when the Penn community learns to let go of consciously identifying people by their labels can it find a way to reason with its inner differences and empathize with each of its members.

Please note All comments are eligible for publication in The Daily Pennsylvanian.