By Tabitha Bozeman
Can reading actually change who we are as people? Are we bound to the people and places that produce us, fated to turn out one specific way because of them? Each of us carry the people, places, ideas, and beliefs of those before us whether we realize it or not. We can see this in the old wives tales and superstitions we seem to unconsciously know. We see it in how we view ourselves and our ideas about who we should be as individuals. We see it in the goals we set for ourselves, the dreams we have for our children, and the way our individual definitions of “success” differ from another’s. Often, we view success and relationships in ways that are handed down to us, absorbed by us without even realizing it. But, as Toni Morrison reminds readers, “Definitions belong to the definers, not the defined.”
There are many elements of our daily lives we subconsciously define: careers, education, success, faith, love, friendship. It is useful to sometimes take a moment to consider where our definitions for these things originated, see if they are still serving us well, and develop newer, more complete definitions to carry with us as we continue on our journeys. For example, as a child, I often heard the bible verse that “a friend loves at all time,” and that was something I took very seriously. If I considered you a friend, that was that–”all times” meant no matter what was said or done. As I grew, read more books, and experienced more friendships, though, I began to realize that my definition was not fully developed. I was considering my own response and participation in a friendship, but not paying enough attention to a more elemental part of the exchange: defining “friend.” Reading voraciously as a young person helped me see more examples of friendships: good friends, devoted friends, and even false friends. Reading provided tools to use in relationships as I navigated challenges. For example, I began to define more fully what it meant for me to be a good friend, but I also realized I needed to define what friendship looked like in general.
Something similar has happened to my definition and understanding of “success.” Long before social media, there were still magazines, interviews with celebrities, and observing those around me. All of this influenced my concept of success. Most of us are not as immune as we’d like to think we are to a materialistic definition of success that includes accomplishing as many goals and obtaining as many things as we can. Money, cars, degrees, houses, clothes, accolades–can we even consider ourselves a success if we aren’t at least trying to rack up all of these? My knee-jerk response to that question is that of course we can, because success looks different for each person. But, even though that is my cognitive response, I often still feel the tug of the objectified and quantified definition and examples of success because that is what our world shows us day in and day out.
As Toni Morrison said, though, these are definitions we inherit, and they do not have to belong to us. At least, not in their underdeveloped, counterproductive forms. Did reading all those books as I was growing up show me that worldly goods or all friendships should look and function the same ways? That success is an end goal we should all strive for? Not at all. Do I think material success is worthless? No. What reading did was provide multiple perspectives and definitions of many things in our human experience, and that has allowed me to not only be kinder to myself when goals or friendships do not turn out the way I’d like, but also to have more empathy and grace for those around me. After all, if I am not bound by previous definitions created by others, then those around me are not bound by my definitions, either. This is freeing as we all can continue to redefine these things for ourselves, putting down what no longer serves us and picking up what we need to continue on. We may not be able to choose the places and people and ideas that surround us as children, but we absolutely have the choice to re-examine them as adults, free ourselves from harmful ideas and places and people, and make adjustments along our way. After all, as Morrison continued on to say, “Freeing yourself [is] one thing, claiming ownership of that freed self [is] another.”
