WHO AM I? WHO ARE YOU?

I used to do a writing exercise in class where I'd ask students to take out a piece of paper and write the numbers 1 - 20 down the left side, one number per line  (if you want to try it now, go ahead and get a piece of paper or open a new page on the computer word processing program. Go ahead, I'll wait. I need a bathroom break anyhow.

Okay, I'm back, and I am sure you are ready to go. On the top of the page, write (or type/enter): WHO AM I?

For each succeeding line, answer the same question twenty times. #1, you might say "A father." #2 might be a son or daughter (or husband or wife, etc). The first several will be easy. #7 might be a student or teacher. There does come a point when it gets tougher, but I know you can do it.

By now, you should realize we are complex beings who play many, many roles in our lives. Are we the same person for each interaction? Do we treat everyone the same, or are there many versions of ourselves for others? My "famous saying" was, "You don't have to like everybody, but you have to get along." Over the years, numerous students actually thanked me for that insight in their interactions with others (family, customers, etc).

Are there people/groups on the list you wish you could do better with? Go ahead, it's not hard (in most cases, it shouldn't be). At the end of the day, however, "To thine own self be true," but you have to find out who you really are first.

We are many people, and there is a process most of us go through to find the real us. During that process, we learn a lot. "Don't laugh at a youth for his affectations; he is only trying on one face after another to find a face of his own."

In my case, a different approach. Who am I? My students generally called me Mr. Berman (many still do some 40+ years later), but along the way as familiarity increased, they also referred to me as Mr. B, Berm, Bermie (I never liked that one), B-Man, Berm-Dude, Berm-Dog, B-Dog, C.B. DeBerman (some of you won’t be old enough to understand the allusion to C. B. DeMille, the famous director of epic movies - if you did know that, score one for you – I’m impressed), Dr. Berman (sorry, but that was my late, great father [also, I don’t have a doctorate]), L.B. (short for “Lust Bunny” [there really is an innocent story behind that one – just ask the twins Mark and Cindy – they named me]), The BermMeister, Grand Master B, Da Bomb, Da Shit (I asked around and found out that those last two actually are compliments in the ever-changing, often-confusing twisted language of the young), Mr. Bermer, and last but not least, The Bermanator. I am sure there were numerous other things I was called when I wasn’t listening, but the ones above are the ones I actually heard and readily recall. 

Anyhow, think about it all. I hope you realized or learned something here.