Reinventing my identity in my temporary home? Easy.
I’ve moved many times throughout my life to the point where I’ve achieved professional-bubble-wrapper status — a useless skill that would do more harm than good if listed on my LinkedIn profile. I’ve moved from one neighborhood to the adjacent one, and each time, I feel like I have a new canvas, but moving more than 7,000 miles away from home is more like a public mural rather than a measly canvas. I can splash paint around in new interpretive styles, make a mess, and leave without a trace. They say there’s only five degrees of separation, but I don’t feel that way in Sydney — I feel I have the opportunity to reinvent myself as if I was the new kid on Mars.
Little did I expect to have an “Under the Tuscan Sun” moment so early in life, but here we are practicing for when I really need it. It helps that things are so similar here in Sydney because my focus is less toward survival than it is plunging myself into the local day-to-day lifestyle. That’s just me, though — diving in head first into the kids’ pool.
The existential question of ‘Who am I?’ clearly plays a role in this scenario which forced me to think. I started to think about where my personality comes from, how it’s manifested in my life, and informed my decisions. The first thought is my heritage.
I typically introduce myself in California according to my heritage — avoiding calling myself an American. My family has deep roots in the Mexican-American culture in Los Angeles, and my mother is from Central America. However, in Sydney I’ve noticed myself embracing being an American. My family immigrated from Mexico, Cuba, and Honduras which made me feel odd about labeling myself “American” up until this point. I always felt detached from the kind of America seen in a Norman-Rockwell-type painting. My family hasn’t been in the states for generation upon generation. None of them fought in any of the wars or set off in a wagon across the country on the Oregon Trail.
There’s something about being abroad that makes me want to connect back to the US in some way I can. There’s a sense of pride in where I’m from that I’ve never felt before. I’ve met locals and they, like everyone else, have grievances with how things are in one way or another. This trip is helping me to truly understand that people, no matter where you go, are just like me in so many ways.
I’m learning an important in lesson in the role that where I come from plays in my life. It’s a part of who I am and not the center of everything that makes up who I am. It’s not as important as what I choose to do with it. If I were to simply categorize myself I’d be cheating myself — possibly losing the opportunity to constantly surprise myself.
I have to have a bit of fun with the fact that absolutely no one knows who I am here. As a story-teller, I’ve crafted a few outrageous personalities and background stories. In one instance I claimed I’m a New York wasp trying to get away from my dysfunctional family and clear my head as far away as possible. Thanks, “Gossip Girl.”
I’m interested to see how my identity navigates itself here in Sydney.
Cheers!
Just Josh Abroad 