Who are you?
So there I was, having just read a short essay about some dead Greek Philosopher Dude. And then an old friend of mine came in the room.
“Who are you?” I said.
“You’re kidding, right? you know who I am.”
“Humour me, please.”
“Ok, I’m Steve. But you knew that already, right?”
“‘Steve’ is just a label. Who are you, really?”
“I’m not sure I get what you mean here.”
I grabbed the nearest can of food and threw it at him. He caught it with his usual agile ease. “What’s that?” I said.
He read the label, then threw it back to me. “Its a can of beans” he said.
“That’s just a label.” To illustrate my point, I ripped the label off and threw it back to him. “What is it?” I asked again.
“Ok, its a can.” he threw it back to me.
I caught it. “Just another label.” I said. To illustrate my point, I opened the can. Inside there was some pineapple cubes in syrup. “See? Those were nothing but labels. Your name is nothing but a label. I ask you again, who are you?”
“What do you want me to answer?”
“Ok, you have a father and mother, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you are male I presume?”
“Last time I checked, yes”
“So it follows then that you are a son!”
“Ok, yes, you’re right of course. I am indeed a son. So what?”
“I agree - so what! That is in no way the entirety of who you are. You are a son. I am a daughter. I am also a cousin, an aunt, a niece, a sister, and more!”
“So I guess you also want me to say I am a grandson, a great grandson, a great great grandson, and so on?”
“Only if you knew them.”
“Eh?”
“Only if you knew them. Most people, and I assume here for the sake of argument that this includes you, have had meaningful contact with their parents, and usually their grand parents too. But great grand parents? For most people, these guys are dead by the time they are old enough to start forming long-term memories. And if you have no personal knowledge of them, they are hardly a part of your identity, of who you are, true?”
“I disagree. I may not have known my great grand parents personally, but I know about them. For example, I know they were all from Germany…”
“So that means that ‘being German’ is a part of your identity, nothing more. A valid part of you of course, and very important for some people. It naturally implies ‘being European’. Im not sure where in Germany your folks were from, but I have no doubt that a regional identity forms a part of who you are too.”
“Ok, cool, we’ve established I am a set of relations to my family, and where I come from forms a part of who I am. Surely there’s more to it than that?”
“Of course. You work, right?”
“yes, I’m a translator.”
“And when you go home, you are a traveller. When you cook your dinner you are a chef. When you phone your girlfriend you are a seducer. Each of us wears many hats. Our role in our family, our role in society, our place of origin, even all of this put together is only an approximation of who we are.”