Place & Being

Where are you?

Who are you?

The place that we occupy and our identity is unavoidably connected and this connection is meaningful. We are born with certain biological traits and with a certain degree of individual nature: a special smile, a unique laugh. As we grow, however, we begin to build a cohesive identity that holds us together, a personal essence if you will. In large part, this “personal essence”, this identity, is heavily influenced by our environment, the culture around us.

I was thinking about this recently when I pondered how different I would be as a person if I had been born and raised in another country. I was originally inspired to this track of thinking by these words by John Mark McMillan:

“What is a country? Dirt under our feet? Lines on a piece of paper? Is the value of a person determined by the dirt? And what value do we hold in relation to the dirt, and is our love hemmed in by these lines? Or did our ancestors not dream and die for something more? What if a “country” was a way of life? And what if preserving the “place” means we’ve sacrificed the “way”? What “country” do we have then?”

His poetic musings inspired musings of my own. It made me consider the abstract and arbitrary nature of nations and the almost-unnatural power our place has on our being. It made me ask these questions: what percentage of my identity been touched by my national affiliation? What amount of my worldview, personality and faith is due to the places I’ve been occupying throughout my life? How much significance has the borders, lines, place names on a map, and claim-staking flags had on shaping me to be who I am today.

I think the answer is: quite a bit more than I realize at the outset.

Where we are has a lot to say about who we are. I find it surreal to think that if I was born at the same moment, to the same parents, in a faraway place, that I would be a completely different person than who I am today. If all that changed was the place, it would be enough to radically transform my identity.

This same sentiment in poem form:

Place & Being

Where are you?

Who are you?

 

Your place,

This spot that you occupy,

Your coordinates in the cosmos,

Mean more than you think,

 

Your identity,

The essence of you,

The special glory of (insert your name here),

Stands on many pillars,

 

Time of birth: 12:48am,

Place of birth: America,

Who was born?

That’s the question,

 

I could give you a name,

Even a face,

But identity will have to wait,

(How long?)

Perhaps forever,

 

Born on this continent,

Inside these lines,

I’m who I am,

Thanks to the frontier,

 

I’ve been assigned to a flag,

I’ve been handed loves and hates,

It all comes back to the delivery room,

In St. Louis Park,

 

And if it was a delivery room in Mombasa?

Or Hong Kong?

Born to the same parents,

I wouldn’t recognize myself,