You can honestly respond with “Ok, but it depends on who is asking.”
Some thoughts on identity…first, I’ll start with my title and lead-in.
Before I go any further, it is important to know that my primary
interest is non-formal education, specifically the camp industry, and I
have worked at a summer camp for the past 13 years of my life, as a
counselor and now Program Director. With that in mind, I recently (and
successfully) defended my comps exam. Many of my questions centered
around applying youth development concepts and theories to the world of
summer camps. Afterwards, my committee complimented me by sharing, to
paraphrase, that I am somewhat of an expert on camping. That made me
feel good.
Since I just built myself up, it is only fair that I knock myself
down. If I told my colleagues at the summer camp that, they would
laugh at me and probably ridicule PSU’s credibility for making such a
statement. Part of their warm response is because we are all sarcastic
jerks to each other and this is how we keep our egos in check. But I
think the main reason this response is that none of us see any one of
us as any more of an expert on camping than the rest of us (wow, that’s
quite the usage of “us” in one sentence). My camp colleagues see me
merely as one of them.
At the same time, the camp colleagues have declared me an expert on
youth development and literature, and often ask me for advice and to
recommend sources when they are in need of help. Please note, this is
in direct contradiction to the aforementioned sarcastic jerkiness
theory. Ahh, I feel good about myself again.
But here comes the kick in the knee: I will be the first to admit that
my research and academia skills are quite inferior, particularly
compared to the great minds that I theoretically encounter on a daily
basis in State College. Some of my PSU colleagues would likely laugh
at the thought of me being a youth development or literature expert
and, unlike the camp colleagues, they are generally nice, encouraging
people.
My point is this: I am a member of two different communities, the
summer camp community and the PSU research community. I don’t conduct
myself any differently in either community; in fact, I often try to do
things and complete projects that satisfy the demands and
responsibilities of both communities at the same time. Yet the
perception of my identity is different despite my uniform actions in
both communities. The camp community sees me as an expert in youth
development because I read more literature and am more familiar with
the academic community than the rest of the community, though my
research skills are quite ordinary in the academic community. On the
other hand, the academic community sees me as an expert on camping
because of my vast experience, understanding, and philosophical
abilities of the camp community, though my camp knowledge is quite
ordinary in the camp community.
Interesting how two different communities see me as an expert in the
opposite world, yet not in their own. My actions are important, but my
identity is dependent upon the context of the observer. Perhaps my
identity is not that I am an expert in camping or an expert in youth
development and literature, but that I am an expert in bridging these
two communities?
What do you think? Do you have any similar experiences, where two
worlds observe you as two different people based on the rest of the
community?