Who Are We If We Let Them Identify Us?

In our class, we often explore individuals that don’t quite fit in to society or the situations they find themselves in. These individuals are subject to those who look but don’t actually see them because they lie outside “normal”. We watch as society tries to put these characters in boxes instead of attempting to understand their unique identities, a circuitous cycle that builds up and breaks down the individual’s identity over time. These one-sided perceptions I speak of create and promote prejudice, stereotypes, generally accepted principles of thought that become second nature to the universal psyche. I love how Ellison puts it in The Invisible Man, a lens that leaves out “the beautiful absurdity of (the) American identity” (Ellison, 451).

Before the world went virtual, I had planned on seeing Wangechi Mutu’s work The NewOnes, will free Us at the Met. This collection includes four bronze sculptures, individually titled The Seated I, II, III, and IV. Common to Mutu’s portfolio, these pieces are influenced by gender and racial politics. I was drawn to the pieces after randomly coming across a description of the exhibit by the Met, reading, “the artist has reimagined a motif common to the history of both Western and African art: the caryatid, a sculpted figure, almost always female, meant to serve as a means of either structural or metaphorical support.”

                       

 Figure 1. Images from Wangechi Mutu’s

The NewOnes will free Us, 2019

In spirit of Mutu’s work (and the encouragement of my family), I decided to watch the French film Les Intouchables. It was everything I expected from a racial-socioeconomic dramedy and so much more.

 Figure 2. Laurie Block, Les Intouchables, 2011

The film is based off a true narrative of a millionaire white man, Philippe, who is quadriplegic since a extreme sporting accident, who hires a young, ex-con black man, Driss, as his reluctant live-in caretaker. We watch them meet at the interview for the position, Driss only showing up to get a signature to keep up his unemployment welfare. Philippe instantly takes to him, as Driss offers no pity and treats him like a man. The contrast is stark and refreshing after a slew of candidates, eager to say the right things, unfailingly patronize Philippe in the interview. He hires him, ignoring the advice of aristrocratic friends with concerns over his criminal background and “violent and reckless” demeanor, one who warns (and patronizes), “Don’t let just anyone into your home, especially in you state” (35:32). The two men could not contrast more, yet they develop a beautiful friendship both despite of and because of their differences. The imputes: both men reject to assume the other’s identity. Writers and directors Olivier Nakache and Eric Toledano shock the audience with a subversive and hilariously playful tone, and we watch as Philippe shows Driss the finer things in life while Driss shows Philippe how to properly live it.

In our class we often follow a character’s journey of escaping or succumbing to a social pressure, seldom one and not both. We saw Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man struggle with his identity, finally escaping the chaotic streets of Harlem by crawling into a dark manhole. The shock is he consequently finds his light and is free from invisibility when he goes into hiding. We witnessed the character Jason, a black prostitute living in New York City, illustrate his experience of exploitation as a beautiful tragedy in front of the camera, stirring feelings of both desire and pity inside me.

Our society puts people in boxes by letting general perceptions drive our reality. These narratives manifest the struggles of resistance and the consequences of that actuality. A lesson to be learned from these movies, sculptures and novels is we must not assume the identities of those around us or rely on others to identify for us. The path of self-identification will always be influenced by others in history, but we must not set expectations based on that history.  We must work every day to cultivate our own identity and prosper together.

By Maggie Sablich