Know Thyself


Wherein Our Heroine Explores the Concept of Individuality.
I went to a high school that was very keen on the concept of individuality. Of course, when you get a group of teenagers together you usually get one of two things: rampant conformity or rampant oddity. We had both: a common joke was, "Go to C.A. and be an individual just like everybody else."

Individuality as a concept is something of an oddity itself. Organic creatures can't help being different. We're all spun out of the same four little DNA bricks, but limitless combinations ensure we all end up unique. And yet there is something in most humans that aspires to a herky-jerky Stepford sameness at many points in our lives. In times of stress or upheaval, conformity looks like a safe haven. People will accept you for what you look like or sound like, rather than questioning who you are. Snuggle back into the values and priorities of the society you have chosen - be it a school, a family, a corporation, or a town - and disappear.

So, in adolescence (is there a time of greater stress and upheaval?), we found ourselves "conforming" to the priority of individuality. And yet, as different as we all started out, there was a startling sameness to our attempts at expressing difference. Small children have vivid imaginations, but teenagers seem to have very little. We splashed out in the most boring ways imaginable, mostly having to do with clothing and appearance. Since it was the mid-eighties, the results were both horrifyingly predictable and grotesque.

Both adolescence and the 1980's make for cheap jokes. But have we changed much as adults?

It seems that in adulthood, despite the potential for greater choice and latitude, the requirements for conformity seem to grow greater. Workplaces require a certain type of dress, political parties seek consensus, families have expectations based on history and tradition. Each departure from these requirements and expectations entails trade-offs, compromise and consequence. Conformity is often easier. It's appalling to me how often I seem to match my demographic profile. Despite a unique weaving of DNA, an offbeat education, and a somewhat random career path, I still find myself liking things from the Pottery Barn. Horrifyingly predictable and grotesque, indeed.
Posted: Thursday - February 19, 2004 at 07:15 AM         | |

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