ID TV

SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY OF IDENTITIES 

Montclair Museum Visit Analysis 

The above picture spoke to me in many ways in regards to identity. I grew up on the beach, even drowned twice.

It was a wave that actually pulled me undertow and knocking me out. Somehow, I loved the beach even more.

Its unpredictability, its serenity, its ability to heal me. Even now, years later, I consider the beach as home. I always

make my way there and feel lost when I depart for too long. I too, am a water sign, a Scorpio, and can relate to

the many depths and shallowness at times. I relate to its tide, being able to push and pull. I relate to its

color, a reflection of the sky, blue with hues of darkness; of grit and its simplicity. I too, relate to its ecosystem, as

diverse as it is. The artist in me would not let me admit otherwise. I too, am a complexity of live creatures, to

be explored and sifted through. I too, build sand castles, but admit that being a mermaid is much better. I too,

find identity in the continuous washing away and renewal of each wave. I too find comfort in the sun rising and

setting along the curvature of its horizon casting translucent colors. The beach represents an ageless identity for

me, enjoyable by families alike. A place where one comes to remember and where one comes to forget.

Glory! Hallelujah! Church! There is an underlying, undeniable, spiritual presence that resides in the black

American community. This identity is embedded mostly by our grandmothers who smeared oil on our foreheads

and prayed on fat knees in front of open bibles while growing up. My spiritual identity was rooted when

my grandmother said, “Baby, come kneel down next to me. Let me teach you how to pray...” I was 5 years old. I didn’t attend

church for almost 20 years later but the seed had been planted nonetheless. Bible shouting believers stay true to the scripture,

“train up a child in the way that they should go and they shall not depart.” And although my grandmother did

not attend the church her family built with brick and mortar, she taught us that God could live in our hearts.

Spiritual identity was rooted by her ancestors and their ancestors; by their ancestors and so on, rooting back to old hymns

sung on plantation fields. I know a lot of believers attribute the black church in America due to slave masters. A

truth too true to ignore. But this fact does not change the fact that spiritual identity existed before slavery and

after. We can not always help how our spirituality is passed down to us. We can only accept it or reject it, as we

learn our own truths.

How does one find themselves in confusion? How does one find peace amongst chaos? Decision.

Intentionality. Education. The above image speaks to my social identity. I grew up in many places. Having

been born to a teenage mother, in a predominately low-income area, I learned what hard work was very early in life. I

learned to be grateful and humble. I also learned that life is short and that most things in life are temporal so

don’t stay too long in a negative headspace. I learned to think above my social norms. I learned to take the

hand that was giving to me and play it to the best of my ability. Based on my social identity, the predictions

would be negative. Having an absentee father, being an only child, seeing loved ones and friends pass away by

gun shots, drugs and disease, even at early ages, statically, I was not suppose to make it. Statically, I have already

beat the odds against me. Geographically, I should have multiple children, never been married, never to have

owned a home and/or achieved a high school diploma, let alone a college degree. Yes there is shit that comes in

and out of our lives. No, it does not have to destroy us. The impact social identity has on my psychology is

up to me.

“Sexual identity differs from racial identity in that awareness of one’s self as a sexual being, and especially awareness

of one’s possible deviation from sexual norms, typically occurs later in one’s life than awareness of one’s race

or ethnicity. Although implications of this difference have not been explored directly,

most models of sexual identity are similar to those of racial identity.”

(SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY OF IDENTITIES 377)

I took this quote from the reading for a few reasons. The above image depicts a clothed white man and a black

naked woman hidden in the corner. His head is down. By the looks of it, he is ashamed yet she is exposed,

unashamed. Their relationship, inconvenient and unforgiving by societal conventions causes them both a bit of

distress. They are both aware of the implications that such a thing would cause.

I’d like to talk about sexual identity here. Sexual identity is a slippery slope. It crosses many borders. All

borders- it intersects with any and all identities. It is one of the few things that causes the most tension, having

originally been deemed as an conjunction with love. As that definition changes, it is more 

excepting now then ever to express sexuality, even amongst gender and race.

 My only wish as a hopeless romantic is that as sexuality progresses, so does love. That love

remains in the forefront. For a fight for sex without a fight for love leaves our flesh satisfied but our hearts empty.