“The paradox of identity
is that it is always
in the making
and never complete.”
~ Amartya Sen

It was a Tuesday evening in 1982. I was sitting in what was known as the “small hall” at Saint Christopher Church in San José. Thirty-five or so members of the high school youth group were gathered for our weekly meeting. The topic for discussion that evening was “Who Are You?” As the youth minister for the parish, my role was to facilitate the discussion.

There is much I do not recall about that evening. It was 42 years ago. What I do remember is the activity with which we began the discussion. I asked for volunteers. Several students willingly agreed to participate. One at a time, I asked them, “Who are you?” Most responded by giving their name. “Who else are you?” I then asked. This question required a little more thought.

“I’m the son/daughter of my parents” was often the next response. As I repeated the same question over and over, each student had to dig deeper into who they were. “I’m a brother, sister, friend, neighbor, grandchild, student, athlete, Capricorn, 49ers fan,…”

This memory emerged this morning as I pondered the topic of the impermanence of identity. I was 28-years-old when that discussion was held with the Saint Christopher youth group. Who I was then is quite different than who I am today. In 1982, I was young, single, energetic, hopeful, and physically active. I was a teacher, coach, youth minister, athlete, and part-time night security guard at a local cemetery. I lived alone in a small house in Santa Clara and drove a 1972 Volkswagen bug. I was inexperienced, yet confident about myself and my future. I had so much to prove to myself and to the world.

Fast-forward to 2024. I wouldn’t say that I’m old, but I’m definitely not young. I’m married, less energetic than I was in my twenties, and definitely less physically active. I am retired from a career in teaching. I live in a comfortable home in West San José and drive a 2005 Honda Accord. I have a good amount of experience in a number of areas. I’m a brother, friend, husband, father, and “Papa” to five beautiful grandkids. I am a published author, an occasional speaker, and a promoter of gratitude and positivity in the world. 

Who I am today is quite different than who I was in 1982, and yet, at the core, I’m very much the same person. While I am considerably less competitive, judgmental, impulsive, and critical, I am significantly more patient, tolerant, empathetic, and content with my life. Today, I have nothing to prove to myself or to the world. It’s a wonderful feeling.

I wholeheartedly embrace the myriad versions of myself. I would like to believe that, like a good bottle of wine, I’ve gotten better over time. Author Doug Cooper made an excellent point when he wrote, “Identity cannot be found or fabricated, but emerges from within when one has the courage to let go.”