An Assignment: Thoughts on Learning about Identity and its Universality

Like so many others, I LOVE Shtisel. So why has it found a place in so many of our lives? I think it’s because of the universality of the appeal of these flawed, conflicted, confused, very human characters who flip out, love, question, and experience every other aspect of life with which we can relate, regardless of religion, ethnicity, sexuality, gender, race, family line and every other identifying marker of who we are and what our identity is. I just love stories like this!

When choosing my recreational reading pursuits, I look for the same – stories of identity, including all of the inherent conflicts, imperfections, aspirations and everything else that comes with being human. Having just recently completed Snow by Orhan Pamuk, telling the story of an exiled Turkish poet, one notes the universality of the identity journey. The Namesake, traces Gogol’s story as the son of immigrants from India in his American life and the conflicts that tear at him from the past and the present, often working at crossroads with each other. I found the same in so many memoirs from various cultural groupings, ranging from Arabic to Native American, from Eastern European to African writers. For all of these important authors who are witnessing history while recounting their individuated journey, they are sharing with us their personal stories while we shake our heads and remark, “that’s just like my life.”

I remember years ago there was a critique from Chinese writers that Fiddler on the Roof was actually their story (that someone else apparently co-opted) about generational transformation and the difficulties of maintaining one’s traditions while navigating the challenges and realities of the present world. Then there were Jewish women who were perplexed by The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan, and specifically incensed that it is women who play Mah Jong, not men!

So here is a thought in our very fractured world where too often people cannot even see each other anymore, and to my dismay, I believe too many have stopped caring that this is even a concern.

Let’s all accept the assignment to read identity stories, especially from those cultures we supposedly do not understand and/or think so foreign and far removed from our own lives. When we come to the realization that what parents want for their children is generally universal, and that generational conflicts exist in all of our cultures, that inequities of social justice plague way too many of us, that our foods actually reflect cultural influences from various sources, and that we are all sharing this world, maybe then…. We will realize that there are so many aspects of life we can and should be working together to resolve. Then perhaps we will see each other as partners on our collective journey instead of the enemy in a race that no one seems to be winning.