Had to write a personal statement for Show & Tell II, revealing myself from an angle. Figured I might as well reveal that here too:
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The Meadowlands is a really ugly place. I don’t mean the nice marshlands that serve as a sanctuary for scores of species of migratory birds, but rather the monstrous stadium complex given the same name. Much like the Turnpike by which it sits, it serves as a collection site for all the tri-state area’s traffic and garbage — a dumping and passing ground which everyone can jointly revile. To some, it’s an eyesore, a tragedy, a sign of what’s gone wrong in sprawling development. To me, it’s my spiritual animal.
Born in Manhattan but exported to northern New Jersey as a small child, I’ve been grappling with my own geographical identity my whole life. From what I gather in speaking to people who’ve experienced moves in their lifetimes, generally you develop an identity based on where you’ve been, and then share the particular details of that experience with the folks you meet in your new habitat. You may encounter stereotypes based on your former residence, and that often leads people to pre-judge you a bit, but as I’ve discovered, few statements can scar you as quickly in this discussion as saying “I’m from New Jersey.” This triggers a host of reactions, from quizzical eyes and raised brows to laughter and scorn to some even backing away slowly, or simply replying with an earnest “really? Why?”
Growing up in training to defend something you’re not even personally attached to is a strange experience. No matter how quietly you try to say the dreaded J-word, it’s never ignored. You develop defense mechanisms, generally playing the comments off with dismissive, self-depreciating humor. You accept that people will expect less from you. You finally understand that some people will instantly assume you to be mildly mentally deficient.
What this has meant in my case is that I’ve led my life fighting a war that usually doesn’t exist. I assume people will assume that I’m less, and therefore I have to be more. Of course, in most cases, the other party couldn’t care less, and I’m walled for a battle that will never occur, but it’s likely been one of the greatest facts shaping my overall mental state.
And so, without question, I’ve allowed myself to find roles that support my fears. In my recent past, I’ve chosen the jobs of journalist, bassist, and photographer. These are self-determined supporting roles; paths chosen to highlight the work of others, while only putting one’s own stamp on the subject in passing. Less about creation, more about filtration and lenses. I’ve become obsessed with the ways in which the reporting eye shapes the interpreted facts. How ideas are formed, shaped, re-shaped, and then melted down and shaped again.
All of which has led me to be overly introspective, chronically paranoid and massively overcaffinated as a rule. It’s led me in all the directions of my life. At every point I’ve prepared myself for a fight, and thus led myself to always have something in my back pocket, which as led me to be one step outside. If you look at this particular essay, I’ve just spent the vast majority discussing my personal character by way of an arbitrary statehood line.
However, in the past year or so, I’ve come full-circle on this. While I came into this grad school experience in the same self-doubting, self-isolating frame of mind I’ve so often employed when in new situations, I’ve found such strength, power and sheer goodness in my background. There’s nothing I’m more proud of than this adaptive nature — the fact that I don’t tend to feel in place has prepared me much better than I knew. I think what this all boils down to is that I’m not only happy with New Jersey at this point, but proud. Hell, someday I may just raise a child of my own here.
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