By Jun Ogata
Who we are lays the foundation for what brings us joy. It’s not a revolutionary idea, our identity is our world. What muddies the waters is the introduction of an internalized panopticon of authenticity. Ask yourself: what does it mean to be authentic? What is a person observing when they observe someone else’s authenticity?
In 2021, I decided to explore my Japanese heritage, beginning with assaulting myself with questions about what it meant to really be Japanese. What should I do to engage this part of myself? How could I be more Japanese as a mixed individual? I read Japanese philosophy, fiction, history, and language books. I listened to Japanese music, cooked a lot of Japanese food, went to the Japanese garden, stared at Japanese art, watched Japanese movies – all with the hope of pinning down some kind of essential Japanese authenticity I could recognize within myself.The cultural critic Rey Chow writes about the concept of coercive mimeticism, or the expectation for ethnic people to resemble what is recognizably ethnic. The expectation is internalized and enforced through interpersonal and societal coercion – often from members of the in-group. I highlight the word “recognizably” because authenticity itself has come to be represented by its physical or social manifestations.
This places us in a positive feedback loop where what’s recognizable (maybe even stereotypical) is conflated with authenticity, and authenticity with identity, and identity back into a performance that should be recognizable from the outside. Around and around we go, supplanting stereotypes with new stereotypes that limit autonomy. This doesn’t just apply to ethnic identity, though. Coercive mimeticism can apply to any identity.
I’m pansexual. Must I “prove it” to be authentic? I’m genderqueer. What’s authentically genderqueer of me to do besides being genderqueer? I live with bipolar disorder, OCD, and dissociative identity disorder. How unhinged do I need to look to be believed to be struggling? These are concerns borne from a desire to avoid the gaze of gatekeepers. We want to know that our gatekeepers – friends, family, colleagues, or even strangers – can see our authenticity and delineate our real identities from the fake. We want to be worthy of acceptance, even if that acceptance is contingent on whether or not we serve a predictable presentation of our marginalized cultures. We append ourselves to the images and stereotypes of our labels so we may fit in at a glance rather than demand that our true selves be enough.
This isn’t joy, this is a tightrope act. The experiences themselves could be enjoyable, but, as prerequisites to embody my own identity, they knock me off balance. I never stopped loving the Japanese things I engaged with during my exploration in 2021, I only stopped loving what they presently reify.
As long as we internalize the need to self-regulate and self-discipline for validation (or even love), there will be anxiety.
I’m Japanese. You can’t put that on a scale and quantify it.
I’ve realized there’s no happiness in seeking an authentic identity because it’s impossible. Trying to be authentic is a pursuit without end. The most authentic Japanese person does not exist, and I am not obligated to aspire to become them. A desperate misery lies in vying for that validation and agonizing over whether I’ll meet expectations.
But our identities should conform to us – not the other way around.
You are who you are. The idea is so simple, yet we keep convincing ourselves that being ourselves requires more. Ultimately, it’s taken stepping outside the surveillance of authenticity for me to find joy. I’m not trying to look for a mythical authentic figure to aspire toward. I do what I like. I do who I like. I am who I am.
BIO
Jun 純 (any/all)
Jun is one of those college dropouts who just didn't have a couple extra thousand dollars lying around for tuition. Now Jun works in a lovely bookstore in the same city where they were born and raised. They aspire to write all the stories in their head and study pretty much every language in existence (but fascism is too much of an existential threat).
Other essays in this series":
Ghost Pansy by Bruce Owens Grimm
Joy as Protection by Alice Harding