Irving Berlin knew what he was talking about. You can be anyone you want to be, or anyone someone else wants you to be, too. All it takes is a costume, a shift in your pitch, and a willing suspension of disbelief.
I've been ruminating on the concept of identity. Does it belong to us, or is there something in the idea that reality is in the eye of the beholder; that once I close my eyes, everything ceases to exist? "I am whatever you say I am..."?
As humans, it's rather necessary for us to require an "us" and a "them" in order to properly organize the world in which we live. I've can personally apply this line of thought to a few parameters: friends and foes; gay and straight; parents and children; boss and employee, et cetera. In all these relationships, identity inevitably becomes a kind of currency, able to be traded to gain certain priveleges or services. Our boss thinks we're one person, which becomes her reality concerning your place in the organizing of her life. Yet, when we're not in the office, that identity ceases to be, and another identity takes its place with our family/friends/enemies. We're someone different when we're with our partner than who we are with friends.
So which identity is true? Is it that fluid? Does this particular coin of trade really belong to us, or is it another tool with which others manipulate and shape the world around us to suit their particular wants and needs? Or is the currency of identity used to buy and sell on behalf of those others ("I'm ________ because ________ is what I think/perceive you want/need me to be.")
Who gets to decide who I am?
Are we doing people favors (good!)? Are we lying to them (bad!)? Is it all really as Berlin said...a show? As long as the audience loves you, you're a star.
They smile when they are low
Even with a turkey that you know will fold
You may be stranded out in the cold
Still you wouldn't trade it for a sack o' gold
Let's go on with the show
Let's go on with the show!
The show!
The show!
