I walked into the interview for a full-ride scholarship at seminary, sat down, and the first question they asked me was: “Who are you?” I was floored! Didn’t they already know who I was from my application? Besides, they invited me to apply! What kind of question was this?
I slowly began to answer, naming various roles in my life that I play. “Who are you?” I named my identity markers such as ethnic, racial, gender, class, sexual orientation, religious affiliation. “Who are you?” I described my theological bents. “Who are you?” I listed my hobbies, passions, talents, and skills. “Who are you?” I described my family upbringing. “Who are you?”
Silence. I had had enough. I wanted to say, “When will you stop asking me this question?” I felt more and more discomfort as the layers of my identity peeled away. Finally, I said “I am human.” They took pity on me and moved onto other questions. When I left the room, I had no idea where I stood in their minds and whether I ‘passed the test.’ That was probably the point. To be nudged into ‘not knowing’ even about my most basic sense of self. Because, ultimately, do we really know who we are in all our aspects at all times?
Maybe you are familiar with the exercise that I underwent in that interview, maybe you’ve played it with someone. If not, I recommend it. Who are you, really?
It turned out that I was a student who was awarded a scholarship. For the rest of my years, especially at seminary, I knew I was a human being with humility and vulnerability at my core. So now, I ask you: “Who are you?”
Yours,
Dena
Rev. Dena McPhetres, Associate Minister