In my reading this week about blogs and self-identity, I came
across a mention of the book “Diary of Anne Frank.” I was immediately taken
back to reading it for the first time when I was about 12 or 13, and remembered
being incredibly moved by her story. Not because of her situation within the Nazi
holocaust (I’m not sure at that point I had any real idea of what that actually
meant), or even because of her situation as a virtual prisoner in her home, but
because she put on paper the things that I—as a fellow early adolescent girl—was
thinking and feeling. I identified with her life and story so strongly that she
became alive to me through the words on the page. Because of her influence, I began
to keep a diary, to record my thoughts as she did, and began to construct my
identity through written language. Off
and on throughout my life, I have kept a written account of my thoughts and my days—most
often during times of stress, but also when traveling or just trying to work
out some idea or another. Writing has given me the opportunity to know what I
think, and to find my many selves within the words on the page.
Have you ever noticed that you speak differently in conversations with
different people, choosing different types of words? Most of us do, whether we
are aware of it or not. When you speak to your boss or co-workers, your language
choices are likely not the same as when you talk to your kids or your best friend. If
you blog, your writings will take on a tone that is different from the email
that you send to the professor you hope will help you with the paper you want
to get published. In some instances, we choose our words very carefully because
we want to offer a certain kind of impression—and other times we say the first
thing that comes to mind, not even caring if its hurtful or untrue. We just
want someone to know that we are angry!
Over the last few years especially, I’ve spent a lot of time writing. And when I write, the words I choose depend more on my audience (and my relationship to them) than anything else. If I’m writing a lit paper for a very picky professor, every word and idea is chosen with extreme care. Every sentence and paragraph are judiciously constructed, and I agonize over each one. I am trying to present myself as a brilliant and thoughtful scholar who is offering a new idea, or at least one that never presented itself quite so exquisitely before. However, if I am exchanging IMs with a friend…well, let’s just say the best I can hope for is that my sadly-lacking typing skills allow for enough clarity that she has a basic idea of what the heck I’m talking about. Each situation allows me the freedom (or necessity) of creating a different sort of identity.
Over the last few years especially, I’ve spent a lot of time writing. And when I write, the words I choose depend more on my audience (and my relationship to them) than anything else. If I’m writing a lit paper for a very picky professor, every word and idea is chosen with extreme care. Every sentence and paragraph are judiciously constructed, and I agonize over each one. I am trying to present myself as a brilliant and thoughtful scholar who is offering a new idea, or at least one that never presented itself quite so exquisitely before. However, if I am exchanging IMs with a friend…well, let’s just say the best I can hope for is that my sadly-lacking typing skills allow for enough clarity that she has a basic idea of what the heck I’m talking about. Each situation allows me the freedom (or necessity) of creating a different sort of identity.
But, what does it say about who I really am if those “identities”
seem to be at odds? If one identity is a wanna-be scholar and the other is sometimes
sardonic—or silly—is one truth and the others fiction? Do I have multiple
personalities? (Should I be looking for a good psychiatrist?).
I think that all writers present “fictionalized” versions of
themselves and their lives. The minute you try to write about an event in your
life—even (maybe especially) a true one—you are choosing the elements that will
comprise it, deciding what is important and what isn't. You are creating a story that has a goal in the telling,
and that intended goal is what decides the sort of language used.
Anne Frank certainly knew that.
One of the things that I hope to discover through my
research on blogs is the way that writers use language to convey their thoughts
and to construct an online identity. How do bloggers choose which parts of their lives or their days that they pass along to their readers; which stories they tell and how?
What are the goals in their telling?
If you are a blogger, I want to hear from you!
