Who am I?: self and other

As the former Archbishop of South Africa, Desmond Tutu once said, “a person is a person through other persons.” This statement alludes to the fact that belonging is critical to our sense of self as a person; often we define ourselves through the quality of these relationships. Likewise an Age columnist, Ross Gittins reminds us, “we are, above all, social animals.” After we have secured our physical survival, the most important thing in each of our lives is our relationships: with friends, neighbours, workmates and, above all, with our families”.

Author and social commentator Hugh Mackay states, “we are defined more by our interdependence than our independence”. Also, “we are individuals with a strong sense of our independent personal identity and we are members of families, groups and communities with an equally strong sense of social identity, fed by our intense desire to belong.”

Likewise, Dr Michael Schluter, an important social thinker and founder of Britain’s Relationships Foundation draws attention to the fundamental importance of relationships in our lives and its role in securing our wellbeing. As Ross Gittins also asks, “take away all our relationships and who would have much reason to keep living?”

Because we are social animals, we gravitate towards groups that become instrumental in shaping our views and values, our attitudes and behaviour. Frequently, we find ourselves conforming to the dominant views and values of the group to such an extent that we may risk losing our individuality. At such times, it may be necessary to challenge the group’s expectations or assert our individuality.

Family relationships are obviously central to an individual’s identity. Parents provide guidance, shape expectations, and nurture talents.

In the absence of strong parental role models and family and kinship relationships, many aborigines who were the victim of the “stolen generation” were denied a strong and proud cultural identity. The NSW Link-Up submission (Bringing Them Home, p. 233) states: “Going home is fundamental to healing the effects of separation. Going home means finding out who you are as an Aboriginal: where you come from, who your people are, where your belonging place is, what your identity is.”

Typically, Helen (p. 229 Bringing them Home) was removed from her family at the age of four and placed in an institution. She had no family to support her and no idea of where she came from. In the absence of parenting models, substitute attachment figures and family support, she was later unable to cope with her own children and became depressed and alcoholic. She was unable to trust others and unable to form and maintain intimate long-term relationships.

It is the 1930s. “Peggy” is four years old when she is separated from her mother in the Cherbourg mission and sent to school. She spends much of her childhood sitting at the wire grill fence yearning for a glimpse of her mother with whom she is not even allowed to share her birthday cake. “I didn’t get to know her. To me she was just the woman who comes and goes.” Denied intimate attachments, Peggy becomes angry. She is the victim of endless punishments as the school and the dormitory transform into a goal. She is forced to stifle her emotions; those who cry are punished. Singing prayers loudly, she is punished. Not doing chores on time, she is punished, which often involves a humiliated shaved head. The “pee-the-beds”, who were often terrified of the “woop woops” at night, were isolated; they had to sleep on the verandah and were constantly insulted through the ignominious label of “pee the bed”. Stripped of their identities, they were typecaste according to their “crime” and stigmatised in offensive ways. Peggy says, “No identity at all. Absolutely nothing”.