A Question of Identity

Recently, with the whole Brexit fiasco and some personal things, I’ve been thinking about the question of identity. Specifically, the idea of the meaning of identity, and how my beliefs and opinions fit into the identities to which I subscribe. In the past few years, how I see myself has changed because I have stopped aligning myself with the narrative of those communities. This has the practical problem that this leaves me somewhat adrift.

We’re so sorry, Scotland
To see such division
We are banking on you
To reverse the decision
Although we were warned
That this course was unwise
Many Sassenach bampots
Believed all the lies

‘So Sorry Scotland’ by Fascinating Aïda

In the macro-political sense, I’ve had an identity crisis brewing since I moved to Scotland in the middle of the 2014 Independence Referendum. At that time, I did not understand the point of holding the referendum at all, and would still were it not for the disaster coming for us at the end of March. This stemmed from how I strongly identified as British, not of either nation individually, because it encompassed my heritage of effective dual-nationality within the framework of the current geopolitical situation while distancing myself from the assumptions made about me because of the way I speak.

I came into a Scotland where being anti-English sentiment was low-level but widespread, moreso if you come from anywhere describable as South. Loudly self-identifying as British meant that I sidestepped it, and encoded my belief in a move towards full federation. The referendum failed (by a narrow margin, indicating that something must be done, but independence wasn’t it) and things started to improve again.

Two years passed, and I started to question this position, and after the 2016 referendum had to start reminding people again that just because I sound like I work for the BBC in the 1940s doesn’t mean that I necessarily think of myself as English. This is indicative of the ‘them and us’ narrative of which I’m not fond --- the UK versus the EU, the Scots, Welsh and Irish against the English, the nation of Scotland locked in mortal combat with the government in Westminster. This tendency towards clique-forming is a human trait, but it is a terrifying one, forcibly fracturing my secure identity into several parts. Several members of the SNP in recent debates in Westminster have used the phrase “I do not have confidence in the government, but then again, I never have”, which echoes the feelings I’ve seen expressed around me ever since the 2015 election. I started to identify as a European, knowing that at some point that would be forcibly taken away from me, and as a Liberal Democrat, despite the fact that among student circles that means you’ve sided with the traitors.

I have been joking recently about setting up a European ‘adopt-a-Briton’ agency, so that those of us who want to remain European, moving towards an ever closer union of independent states along with all the rights and responsibilities of being part of a larger community, can. Well, maybe half joking.

I put on some make up
And turn up the eight track
I’m pulling the wig down from the shelf
Suddenly I’m this punk rock star of stage and screen
And I ain’t never
I’m never turning back

“Wig in a Box” from ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’

I try not to hide my identity, but there’s a natural tendency in us all to put on a façade in the name of self protection. In many ways, we become entirely different people when we decide what image we want to present to others, and what assumptions we want others to make about us. To control the narrative, continue the act, construct our identity to plaster over our insecurities and to avoid awkward interactions. When we start to be controlled by our false identities, this becomes a problem; to maintain control, we must at least understand the implications of the identity we’ve fabricated.

I can no longer comfortably identify as British, because I no longer understand what that means, and it’s often with shame that I must admit it. Recently, I re-watched the film ‘Handsome Devil’ which has a slightly clunkily exposed moral that one should always use one’s own voice, and not re-echo that of others, because through our own voice we express our identity. Maintaining a voice of our own when we’re surrounded by people shouting louder and more often can be almost impossible, especially if what we’re saying runs against the flow of those around us; however, we can sometimes find that in fighting against the standard narrative, we’ve not actually taken time to accept that maybe the world isn’t quite as we see it.

I will have to work out my identity before long, but I suppose I can live with the uncertainty in the interim.