Between and In Both

On my reading list, I have finally come to Sherman Alexie, the Native American storyteller and writer. His voice is courageous and mesmerizing. Both The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, for young adult readers, and The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven, a collection of short works, layer humor and heartbreak with extravagance and understatement.

Also, here's the podcast in which he talks about his experience moving between two cultures, which he describes as being like a job. He speaks in the context of going to high school off the reservation but continuing to live on the reservation. (It starts at about 29 minutes in.) "In the end, when you cross borders and boundaries, you end up becoming an alien in both worlds, and you end up having to really work hard in both places, and so it ended up feeling like a job."

I would add that it is sometimes possible to feel at home in each culture, just not fully. Actually, I think most people don't feel fully at home in their "home" culture, if they get beyond flag-waving and speak honestly. If you define "American culture" as "everything happening culturally in the U.S.," you've created a complex multifaceted shape. No one person could conceivably fit into it exactly. Same with "Canadian culture" -- two official languages, for starters.

But a sure way to see your "home" culture with new eyes is to move to a new one. And when you find a way to fit into the new culture, you have a new way to experience the feeling of "home." A new vocabulary.

Moving between the cultures of Canada and the U.S. is of course not as wrenching as moving between the Spokane Reservation and the dominant white culture of eastern Washington state. It's a different kind of cultural contrast, like the difference between night and...later that night.

Which is another example, albeit a trivial one. That last line -- the difference between night and later that night -- is from television. I was too young to understand the full range of angst on thirtysomething, and too old to be one of the Friends. Yet I own a Filofax in part because Ellyn gave one to Hope in a thirtysomething episode. From Friends, I know I appear as Monica but inside, I'm Phoebe. (And I know how to express a slight difference, between, say, a guy named Ross and a guy named Russ, or between aspects of Canadian culture and U.S. culture, from Friends.)

Although I don't fit exactly into either TV show's demographic, I can understand both. I move between them. I'm not fully at home in either, but I'm somewhat at home in each one.

The advantage of experiencing that alienation and hard work Alexie talks about (though the "hard work" of my privileged life was nothing compared to his experience) is that now I have two vocabularies with which to explain myself to someone. I have two vantage points from which I can examine (and experience) the world.

And being in both places lets me rest more easily in each one.