A Reflection on the American Theme of Identity
Because I am beginning to see the end of my high school years, I have been thinking a lot about my identity. I look at myself now, and I can barely see the connections to my past self, even from three years ago. I forced some of these changes, but many of them were unintentional. For example, I chose to focus on community service in the summer and at school, but I no longer consider this a major aspect of my identity. I consider myself more to be a choreographer, an aspect of myself that I had not expected to emerge than I do to be a service learner. This change was something I did not ever expect to occur, but now I cannot imagine my life at Rivers without it. My biggest fear is that I will lose my current identity as I leave high school. While I know it is bound to happen, it is terrifying not to know what I am going to be doing less than two years in the future. I am worried that I will not be able to find something I am passionate about like I did at Rivers. But I must remind myself that I have stumbled upon joy before, and I will stumble upon it again.
This accidental encounter with a new part of myself has not only occurred with choreography, but also with teaching in general. Choreography has not only allowed me to explore dance in a new direction, but it has also reintroduced me to my love of teaching. From a young age, I knew that I loved to help others, whether it be my younger brother or peers. In fifth grade, I did my science fair project on Jean Piaget’s theory of cognitive development, and I got to work with every single child in the school. Through middle school and the first few years of high school, I forgot about this passion and let it retreat into the background. When I started as an assistant choreographer as a sophomore, this instinctive nature kicked in. While sometimes it can be a bit overbearing or boastful, I work hard to restrain myself. I enjoy trying to figure out how to tell someone something in a way that they will understand, especially if they don’t get the first way in which I approached it. Watching the musical this year was a humbling experience; to see everyone on stage performing with what I had taught them was just an indescribable feeling. While I may not be a choreographer in the future, I can continue to teach and experience that same emotion in the future.
I have no idea what I want to do as an adult, except that I know I want to be an adult as soon as possible. But I’m learning to be okay with the unknown that lies in the future. My identity can never disappear completely; As long as I am still able to speak for myself, I can choose who I want to be. While I understand control over one’s identity has a limit, I am okay with seeing how the future plays out because so many of the essential parts of who I am now have come unexpectedly. I don’t believe in fate, but I do know that certain parts of my personality will never change, and from those small fractions of myself I know that I will end up where I belong.
Identity is a tricky thing in high school. The increase in self-awareness combined with the desire to fit in forces students to strip away the parts of themselves that would separate them from the rest. But those pieces that are tossed out for artificial relationships are really what should be nurtured and developed; it is those pieces that can help us determine who we want to become. It’s a lesson that’s been overproduced in movies, TV shows, and books, but it is still one of the most frustrating and difficult lessons to learn. While I cannot say that I do not try to fit in with my class, I can say that I am learning to at least recognize and acknowledge those parts of me I used to suppress.
