To be me

When 1980 brings the census taker to my door, I will be polite. I will answer all the questions that label and pigeon-hole me, so that I can take my statistical place with the majority or the minority, whatever the case may be.

But while I am politely answering those questions, I will keep before my thought that I am more, infinitely more, than a single-female-living-alone-on-so-many-dollars-a-year. And I will keep in mind that my next-door neighbor is more, infinitely more, than a divorced-man-with-three-out-of-state-dependents. And I will keep in mind that you are more, infinitely more, than a statistic, a minute part of some category of convenience for governmental record-keeping.

Aren't we each whole individuals, with a completeness yet unseen by ourselves , much less recognized by others?

Would rather be uncategorized than categorized. Categories limit me to one age and one sex. It's not that I want to be ageless or sexless. I want to be all ages: I want to have the spontaneity and enthusiasm associated with childhood, the ambition and vitality associated with youth, the contentment and wisdom associated with maturity. I want to be both sexes: I want to have the power and strength of manhood, the warmth and tenderness of womanhood; I want to express the courage and vigor of manhood, the comfort and support of womanhood. I can express mothering and fathering even though I am childless, and independence even though I am married. I can have abundant supply of "the good life" while earning the minimum wage. I can be all the things I am and want to be and so can you, because categories aren't cages, and maybe one year when the census taker comes on one will fit.

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