Identity Niches: Have You Found Yours?

“O wad some Pow’r the giftie gie us, to see oursels as others see us.” —Robert Burns, “To a Louse”

For some years, I conducted an activity with students in one of my sociology courses. Their instructions were to write down answers that complete the phrase “I am ….” As might be imagined, the list of responses was usually extensive and came quickly enough. People said they were “tall,” “outspoken,” “female,” “from New Jersey,” “Catholic,” “athletic,” and so forth. Every student’s list was different.

I then asked them why they had listed those specific qualities and, more importantly, how they had been able to make those judgments. Inevitably, people concluded that the terms they chose somehow differentiated them from others, even if those categories (like “female” or “Catholic”) included vast numbers of people. Moreover, the terms were sometimes problematic or hot-button matters. That is, women frequently listed “female” while men rarely said “male.” Minority students often declared that status; people in the majority did not mention their advantage.

How did they reach their conclusions, particularly about subtle matters like being good-looking, intelligent, or popular? Although sometimes we receive formal acknowledgment of a trait — as in the cases of positions, awards and documents — for the most part, we rely on the informal give-and-take of everyday interaction. We conclude that we are “funny” because others laugh at our remarks; we decide we are “good-looking” because they want to date us.

Those understandings of who we are and how we operate in the world are what social scientists call the “self.” They include judgments not only about physical and psychological characteristics but also about social involvements, geographical placements, cultural beliefs, favored activities, and distinctive experiences. To have a self is to be aware of one’s ever-precarious standing in society.

As Burns’s famous lines lament, it would be nice to have some sixth sense that allows us to know what others “really” think of us. But that more public identity — or should I say identities, for different individuals and groups see us differently — forever eludes us.

Managing Identity

Few issues in our social existence are as fundamental as the tension between identity (who others think we are) and self (who we think we are). Like a child who argues they are “old enough” to stay overnight at someone else’s house, all of us understand well that a vast range of rights and responsibilities result from how this issue is resolved. We harbor visions of an “idealized” identity, one that conforms to our ideas of how others should treat us.

Pointedly, that vision of public treatment may encounter blockages and other forms of resistance. Seemingly arrayed against us, groups and organizations restrict entry to their premises, even if that access is just money-based. Inside those premises, there are various kinds of treatment. Even individuals (as at dances or parties) make judgments about whether to interact with us based on the characteristics they perceive us to have.

Not surprisingly, negative treatment from others — think of bullying, sexual abuse and public humiliation — commonly has lasting effects on the self. Oppositely, promotions and praise make us shine.

There are situations where the only options are to somehow endure demeaning treatment or to escape. Young children in abusive families commonly confront that predicament. So do laborers in impoverished societies. However, most of us ponder ways to change that treatment. Perhaps we can change ourselves to become more acceptable to the authorities and, by increments, receive advances in our standing. Alternatively, and more interestingly, we can change the system of expectations that makes our lives so miserable.

Identity Niches

All of us want a setting where we can operate productively, one where we possess an identity that is acceptable to us and that provides us with opportunities to have a fulfilling life.

That concern was the focus of a classic book in the social sciences, Distinction, by the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu. Bourdieu’s initial interest was whether working class people in France were bothered by their standing in France’s rapidly developing class society, which organized opportunities increasingly on economic terms. Would they have the “class-consciousness” that Marx predicted as a response to advanced capitalism?

To be sure, people were fully aware that they did not have the wealth and privileged existence that the higher social classes enjoyed. Advertising and other forms of mass media made it clear that there were consumer goods they could never afford. Nevertheless, this perception of “lack” did not preoccupy them. Quite the opposite, they focused on the more limited opportunity systems of their local communities and on the similarly situated people who lived there. Each of those settings, what Bourdieu called “class-fractions,” typically had its own beliefs, customs, and favored environments. Each class-fraction unapologetically preferred certain styles of food, music, sports, hobbies, nightlife, jargon, dress, and sexual expression. Within those contexts, people sought not only a solid acceptable identity but also “distinction,” that is, recognition for being successful at the forms in question.

Identity Essential Reads

The Link Between Neurodivergence and the LGBTQ+ Population

How Silence Shapes LGBTQ Identity

Mass society today — with its proliferation of broadcast and internet culture and its increasing reliance on money as a medium of exchange — challenges further that quest for appropriate standards for living. Precisely for that reason, it is critical that people maintain face-to-face relationships with others who care about them and who respond to their concerns. If remote styles of working no longer provide people with enriching colleagues, then they should turn to interest-based associations, such as clubs or hobbies. Family and neighborhood connections may return to the center of life. Helping others takes precedence over helping oneself.

I call this search for appropriate life-centers the quest for “identity niches.” These are contexts where people know your name. They have some knowledge of your general life history and your personal quirks and passions. Members of the circle feel comfortable sharing life details with one another. They express interest in what you are doing. They look out for their comrades.

I would argue that our activity-based, on-demand style of interpersonal relationships has weakened many of these commitments. Even nuclear families may be little more than refueling stations for private exploit. Although we may not “bowl alone,” as one critic famously dubbed it, we commonly see the activity itself — perhaps golf, painting, or exercising — as much more important than the people we find there.

All this is a misfortune. Relationships to others — in a variety of contexts — both thicken the self and give it stability. More than providing an enduring sense of place, they provide chances to experience placement, or “distinction.” Our newfound activity, perhaps quilting or restoring an old car, introduces a new set of skills and a new vision of our own development. It puts us in contact with people we would otherwise never meet. It affords chances to become better at what we do and to receive acknowledgment for that development. Oddly, it presents us with a new land to live in.

When work becomes less fulfilling or family members and friends move away, those once “secondary” commitments become even more important. Finding one or more of these niches is the way to return existence to human (that is, manageable) scale and to experience the better forms of personal satisfaction.