Wordy Woodpecker #1

On a family vacation to the Dominican Republic, my father handed me a book with the comment that it was the kind of book you just couldn’t put down. Having slaved through numerous English courses, my first instinct was that this was a dirty, dirty lie. The last book which, according to the teacher, was the kind of book that can’t be put down that I read was Moby Dick. After slaving through chapter after chapter devoted to such intellectually stimulating topics like how to properly gut a whale, I began to associate the words “a book you can’t put down” with “a book that is unentertaining, but damnit, I had to read it, so you will too!” As so, I took my father’s description of Ender’s Game, the book he handed me, with a grain of salt. But I began to read it anyways, if but to satisfy my father. And then I got hooked.

Ender’s Game grabbed my undivided attention so easily because the thoughts and actions of the characters are so realistic, especially that of Ender himself. I identified with Ender very quickly based upon my middle school and high school experiences. During those years in particular, students always seem to fit other people into a neat classification scheme. People are defined as jocks, nerds, preps, Goths, etc. and they are trapped within their label. I was the math nerd. No matter what I did in school plays, no matter how many sports I play, no matter how much how many hours of flying time under my belt, I was the math nerd. Nearly everyone’s interactions with me revolved around the fact that my identity was the math nerd who took classes 4 years above grade level. From acquaintances, to teachers, to even my friends, people assume the qualities of the stereotype into me. Rather then attempting to know the real Wordy Woodpecker, people chose the easier path, viewing everything I did as actions of a math nerd. In the book, Ender too faces this dilemma as he is classified as the greatest military strategist who would save the world. Nothing other then that identity mattered.

The reactions and internal conflicts concerning this crude categorizing of people in the book is also closely mirrored by own experiences. I wanted to be known for who I am and not just some idle construct that my identity had been forced into. As long as I was getting high marks in math, my identity would always be the math nerd. This got me thinking about how that I could escape this if only my math ability no longer stood out and that I was at the level of the majority of the people around me. While I resisted it, the temptation to underperform if but to escape the identity the school had forced me was strong. In the book, during the climatic scene where he is given a task that seems impossible, he goes through a similar internal conflict. He too saw that underperforming could finally allow him to escape all the expected associated with the identity that was imprinted onto him.

The human brain, by design, is one that always is trying to find patterns, even when they don’t exist. All too often, people find themselves categorized into a mere façade of what they are; an empty stereotype that misses the nuances of each person. But rather than attempting to deliberately escape this façade, I learned to stay who I was. While this may allow others to quickly classify me, I can know that they are some who can see past the label and know me, without me having to change who I am. And your true identity is the one thing that must be never given up.