Thoughts On My Own Self-Betrayal...

In my personal culture quick conformity and prompt obedience have always been valued traits. My father was a mechanical engineer and my mother was an English teacher, so structure and order and rules and laws were always paramount. Form followed function and whimsy was almost never acceptable.


Even in play, we were taught the principles of "success". One of my mother's favorite games was "Scrabble". If you want a more rule-bound game, I don't know if you will find it. Points are clearly defined, words are perfectly spelled, and placement on the board is governed by a rigid grid.

My father is a terrible speller who did not enjoy "Scrabble", but who, when he did play, liked rule-bound games as well. "Hide-and-Seek" became an exercise in reducing noise and movement, avoiding silhouettes and shadow casting, precise movement and patient waiting.

Creativity was not forbidden. It was simply never a consideration.

In religious practice, I had two examples, as well. My father was almost obsessively committed to the physical rituals of the church. He was determined to attend every meeting and to fill each assignment as if it were the only thing he had to do.

My mother was never moved by the faith, but she doggedly followed the culture, attending women's meetings, teaching Sunday School when asked, and trying to keep up with expectations. She always had a smiling face and a cheerful answer when anyone asked about anything. Even when it wasn't true.

Discipline was strict and physical from both of my parents, and its enforcement was far from capricious. In fact, it seemed to me that every chance to correct behavior was taken. Failure to comply with a firm set of rules resulted in pain.

So, when I graduated high school and enlisted in the Army, following direction and obeying rules was the least of my concerns. I did that almost automatically.

My level of compliance was convenient. It required almost no thought and did not allow for introspection. In retrospect I can see that self-betrayal was the price of that convenience.

The first time I am aware of betraying myself in favor of compliance, I was a junior in high school. My ambition then was to be an architect and to design homes and mixed-use spaces. Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo, California had a fine architecture program and ran a summer architecture experience for young people like me. I was excited to attend and to launch my education and begin my career.

On the first day of the three-week work shop we were given an assignment to design a living space much like a condominium. I was completely engaged until the instructor told us that we should not consider whether or not our design was buildable, but only think about the form of the thing. Alarm bells went off inside my head. The engineer-father scoffed at the notion; the grammarian-mother couldn't even consider the possibilities of working outside the world of the expected.

And in that moment, even before I realized it, I betrayed myself. I submitted my dreams to the authority of my parents. I decided that architecture was not for me.

I don't say that submission to authority is always wrong. In fact, sometimes it is exactly the thing to do. I do say, however, that questioning authority with the purpose of understanding; and questioning self for the same ends, is not only good, but right for each of us to do.

Since that moment - and probably long before - self-betrayal has been a way of life for me. I did not want to let others (read: parents, peers, teachers, employers, spouse, etc.) down, and I never learned to consider myself. Only recently have I begun questioning the institutions that have been most sacrosanct in my life - my work, my country, my religion and my family.

What began as a scary proposition - this questionning - one that was completely foreign and virtually forbidden, has become a painful and pleasurable, exhilerating and confusing, dark and enlightening journey. I have found more faith and less blindness, more love and less fear, than I ever imagined in the world.

I am determined to learn how to help my children avoid the self-betrayal and faithless following that has taken me so long to even recognize.

And I am still waiting to find the self that I began betraying before I knew I was doing it.