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Thoughts about who I am
Aug. 28th, 2004 10:24 amNow look at me: spend six hours on the internet yesterday, until after midnight. And here I am again.
But luckily, there is no new political post from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
theferrett yet, that's where I always get into long discussions. Yesterday, I was discussing war in general, Iraq, Vietnam, terrorists and a little bit of 9/11 with two others, and before I dropped out due to being tired to death, we had also come up with GDR.
There was one statement that had me thinking quite a bit this morning. I have not reached a conclusion yet, but maybe writing it down helps.
I said during the discussion that I know how it is to live in a country were pretty much everybody is spied on. Then the other person said I can't possibly know that, being born in '82 and not really having lived in GDR.
Now, from a logical standpoint, that seems true. But I still feel I know.
We all know there is such a thing as collective memory. For me, this is not limited to the things you learn in school. There are certain feelings that are maybe not inherited but somehow close to that. The things that surround a child from the first day of its life do leave, in my opinion, a mark on that child.
And it is even more than that. I feel close ties to my family, to my ancestors. I might have never met them, but they are part of me.
In America, I had a hard time guessing people's age. They all seemed to be much younger than they actually were. This might sound strange, but I think this is because the USA are a young nation. Yes, I know it was founded long before the Germany of today, but we are "Old Europe". My Grandmother used to make funny remarks about the fact that in her largely blonde family, a few people had dark hair. Reminders of the invasion of the Tartars, she joked. And it was as if the mixture of Slavic and more Scandinavian heritage had happened yesterday, or a year ago, not centuries ago.
With jokes and family traditions, with things we learn at school and from history books and things we feel in our families, our characters are formed in a certain way.
I can feel the pain my Great-grandfather felt when my great-uncle died in the war and he realized that he would not have a male heir, that nobody would carry on the family name. I know how important that was to him from stories my grandmother tells, and from seeing my Great-grandfather's initials on everything he contributed to the farm, the same initials as his father's, grandfather's and son's. My father bears the typical first name of this side of his family as a middle name. His own first name is the name of a great-uncle who died in WW I and of an uncle who died in WW II.
The house I live in and the people I live with are more than just a house and my family, they are my history, my past. And that past reaches back further than until 1982.
But luckily, there is no new political post from
theferrett yet, that's where I always get into long discussions. Yesterday, I was discussing war in general, Iraq, Vietnam, terrorists and a little bit of 9/11 with two others, and before I dropped out due to being tired to death, we had also come up with GDR.There was one statement that had me thinking quite a bit this morning. I have not reached a conclusion yet, but maybe writing it down helps.
I said during the discussion that I know how it is to live in a country were pretty much everybody is spied on. Then the other person said I can't possibly know that, being born in '82 and not really having lived in GDR.
Now, from a logical standpoint, that seems true. But I still feel I know.
We all know there is such a thing as collective memory. For me, this is not limited to the things you learn in school. There are certain feelings that are maybe not inherited but somehow close to that. The things that surround a child from the first day of its life do leave, in my opinion, a mark on that child.
And it is even more than that. I feel close ties to my family, to my ancestors. I might have never met them, but they are part of me.
In America, I had a hard time guessing people's age. They all seemed to be much younger than they actually were. This might sound strange, but I think this is because the USA are a young nation. Yes, I know it was founded long before the Germany of today, but we are "Old Europe". My Grandmother used to make funny remarks about the fact that in her largely blonde family, a few people had dark hair. Reminders of the invasion of the Tartars, she joked. And it was as if the mixture of Slavic and more Scandinavian heritage had happened yesterday, or a year ago, not centuries ago.
With jokes and family traditions, with things we learn at school and from history books and things we feel in our families, our characters are formed in a certain way.
I can feel the pain my Great-grandfather felt when my great-uncle died in the war and he realized that he would not have a male heir, that nobody would carry on the family name. I know how important that was to him from stories my grandmother tells, and from seeing my Great-grandfather's initials on everything he contributed to the farm, the same initials as his father's, grandfather's and son's. My father bears the typical first name of this side of his family as a middle name. His own first name is the name of a great-uncle who died in WW I and of an uncle who died in WW II.
The house I live in and the people I live with are more than just a house and my family, they are my history, my past. And that past reaches back further than until 1982.
