Identity and the World

In the hope of continuing the trend of positivity I started out to write a post about my two month anniversary of not watching television. Instead of television I ended up with a long string of thoughts on cultural homogenization. What follows (I hope) is a coherent summation of those thoughts.

Ray McKinnon (O, Brother; Deadwood; Chrystal) wrote, directed, and starred in a film called "The Accountant" that deals with the loss of cultural/regional identity. An Oscar winner for best short film in 2002, it is a powerhouse of humor, rhetoric, and morbidity (I know I'm breaking my own rules of "hyping" a movie and not sticking to the binary scale but it is tough to find. I was able to watch courtesy of Derek T. Miller).

There are countless reasons, causes, and sources for the supposed "death" of the south as a regional identity (McKinnon's title character blamed it on Hollywood) and the homogenization of America. This loss has in turn created a sort of panic within certain southerners, causing them to grasp for an identifier and as a result ape a characturized stereotype of what they're supposed to be instead of what they are: a displaced people. No longer separated from the nation--brought together by the cultural mediums of the nation, most notably television and movies. I'm sure there are countless academics who've tackled the subject a bit more thoroughly, albeit with less aplomb and passion than McKinnon.

It seems to me that this broad homogenization is a world wide phenomenon occurring in stops and starts on a global scale. Unbeknown to me, several events over the past few days have led me to this line of thinking. First is the new found independence of Kosovo and with it the larger situation of eastern Europe in general. A surge towards a more "western" world and the competing pull back by another side. This is readily evident in the divisiveness of Ukraine, split between desires to join the west (NATO and the EU) and retain the traditional eastern allegiances, i.e. Russia.

Next was the 1985 movie, Out of Africa with Robert Redford and Meryl Streep. It's based on the life of Karen Blixen (pen name: Isak Dinensen) in Africa. Blixen (Streep) wants to create a school for her Kikuyu. Finch (Redford) bristles at the notion, "I just don't think they should be turned into little Englishmen." He and the Kikuyu chief both recognized the new knowledge was going to come at a cost to their culture. And now Kenya, long the "model nation" of Africa, is embroiled in political upheaval and violence.

And then yesterday afternoon I came across an article about the Guarani tribe in a remote part of Argentina that has initiated a resistance to the outside world. The tribe instituted a a law to ban its adolescents from leaving the village until they are well into their twenties. This measure was created to put a stop to the destructive effects alcohol was having on the village and to stem the tide of despair many felt about their place in the world.

Perhaps it is ill conceived to string these events together to make a point, even a broad one, but I can't help but see similarities in them all. Violent Serbs rioting at the loss of their supposed heartland to the "West." Kenyans chaffing under the system imposed upon them long ago. Village watchmen prowling the edges of a community with wooden sticks in an attempt to keep youngsters from leaving--to keep the world at bay.

And there was our own great struggle. The rural nature of the south has long separated it from the "north" and the rest of the nation. Unique cultures sprang out of the earth with broad variations of accent, entertainment, and economy. This sense of identity, the sense of separation was heightened through slavery, secession, and war. An "us" verse "them" mentality solidified the mentality of separateness.

We've always been a nation and long thought of ourselves as such but there has also been a connection to the land, the region of our birth, the land of our fathers. This connection was just as much a piece of our identity as was our status as an American. And perhaps our own transformation as a nation can be seen as a homogenization not just of culture (television, movies) but as a collective loss of "roots." The mobility of our world has created a society on the move, striving for the brass ring at the expense of a traditional association with a place.

I know I jumped around a bit and I apologize. I suppose I still haven't sifted these thoughts into something truly cohesive yet. In an attempt to summarize my aims: I wanted to highlight the continual battles between identities on a global and national scale--a silent war of ideologies and economic mobility.