I have a few things to talk about. The connections between symbols and meaning and the conflict between the need for group identification and the need to distinguish the self.
\n
\nTo begin, humanity distinguishes itself most significantly from the rest of the animal kingdom in two regards: the ability to use tools, and the ability to communicate symbolically. I’m more interested in the latter right now. <\/p>\n
While we know that other species are capable of understanding symbols, humans are uniquely capable in the realm of symbols. Setting aside the sign language learned by apes, the salivation of Pavlov’s dogs is sufficient to prove other species’ symbolic capabilities. But we have no evidence to suggest that any other species comes close to matching humanity in the capacity to manipulate and communicate via symbols. Major chunks of our brain are devoted to specific symbolic interactions, of which language is only of the most obvious. Actions have symbolic value. Everything is speech; even murder can be speech, political speech with a power like no other: “I hate the actions your country is taking towards our country.”<\/p>\n
But even the clearest speech can be misinterpreted, or misunderstood. In one language “Oi” is an exclamation very similar in meaning to “oh brother” in American, but the same sound means “here” in Spanish. It’s all a matter of context and mindframe. And that can keep two people fluent in the same language, with similar background, from communicating, regardless of their own desires. Communication depends on the conveyance of meaning, carried through symbols. It can break down anywhere between the formulation of the concept in one party’s mind to the misconception or incomprehension in someone else’s. <\/p>\n
That symbols also shape our thoughts, and the meanings we intend to convey, I will claim without any support. If you disagree, we can have a wonderful philosophical argument later. I’m being too pompous and long winded as is. <\/p>\n
Roughly a decade ago, when I started wearing a cloak as my default outerwear for cold weather, I was engaging in symbolic speech. Speech that said, quite clearly to my mind, “I’m different from you, and I will forge my own path.” It was also probably tied up in hero worship for my older sister, and identification with the fictional characters I felt I had so much in common with. I can come up with any number of explanations for why I did it, but I think it was, fundamentally, to declare my own uniqueness.<\/p>\n
I was extremely socially disconnected in high school. I trusted almost no one, certainly not any of my peers. I spent most of my life living in imaginary worlds, constructed from computer games, fantasy and sci-fi novels, some tv and movies, the occasionally bit of thought towards classwork, and massive amounts of introspection. When I first stuck a toe out the closet door, and even moreso a year after that, when I went to college, that started to change.<\/p>\n
Yes, yes, I still spend more of my life thinking about ‘might’s, ‘maybe’s, and abstract reasoning, than anything else, but I started connecting to people. I started looking into their thoughts, and figuring out how they worked. I started believing that maybe there was something worthwhile to be gained from communication with others, and maybe I could trust people. <\/p>\n
So, I opened up, and started connecting to people. I wasn’t the only one with a battered fedora (which I still have), or the only one who wore a cloak by default (sadly, my cloaks went missing after moving out from my next to last living arrangement in chicago. They are missed, but life oh so definitely goes on). But, I bonded with people who each uniquely symbolically identified themselves, whether by funky hats, carrying stuffed animals with them, or walking sticks (and at one point, we all got lambasted in the tartan<\/a>, the campus paper, as the “…cloak draped, fedora wearing, walking stick toting, Jean-Luc Picard worshipping…” ‘geeks’, an intended insult which I embraced with amusement.) <\/p>\n