dannydmc

"History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awaken" - James Joyce

James Joyce is not my favorite writer in the world; truth be told I was repelled by "Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man", quiet possible because Joyce and I are much closer than I would like to admit. Sometimes there is nothing quiet as upsetting and unnerving than a long gaze at one's own reflection.
Despite my dislike, however, that above quote is one which has struck a chord with me because it illistrates a conflict within myself which I have struggled with my entire life. Unlike Joyce, however, I have never managed to devote myself entirely to awaken for his nightmare. Rather, if it was mine to say, I would be more likely to speak "History is a nightmare in which I rap myself daily".
One of the problems of being a historian by nature, or History buff if you would as I don't have a Phd, is that the ghosts of the past are not silent and transparent; rather they are the loud and banging poltergeist which clamour about at all hours of the night. One is forced to either be driven from your home by them, or else come to some form agreement with them. A friend of mine, as a child, was once so terrified of her own ghosts that she struck a bargin with them; if they would never show themselves to her, she would let them be as well. It seems to be working for her.
I've chosen a different tactic, and I often wonder if its the safest or wisest; I commune with them daily and do my best to learn as much as I can. Even so, its a dangerous path to tread and looking in at myself I can sometimes see that its taken a toll.
I have, in many ways over the years, come to not only indentify with those ghosts but to identify myself with them. Family, ethnicity, state; describers which everyone uses from time to time, but ones which are so intigral to my life that they are sometimes the first things out of my mouth when describing myself. Its rarely "I'm Dan, a teacher, a complete dork and an aspiring politician" although these are all true, usually its "I'm Dan; I'm from Wisconsin and my family is Irish, German and Polish". The later are, in many ways, the describers which mean the most to me; I would never start a fight if someone insulting teaching, I'd trade blows, however, should someone be foolish enough to besmirch my state or nationalities to my face.
I even have a tendency of pouring through the family histories to try to figure out where my traits come from. So, I'm a talker? Well, I got them from my Mother and her from her Father; you should hear her tell a story sometime! And so what if I'm stubborn and somewhat distant when it comes to my emotions? You should meet my Dad and then you'd understand that! I have a penchant for drinking beer? I'm German, Irish and Polish and come from Wisconsin; you should be lucky that I'm not a raving alchy! I'm rogh around the edges, have a temper and hate authority? Have you ever met my Dad's side of the family?
For someone who prides himself on being an individualist (just like all of my pateral side, mind you), I have a rather odd tendency of describing myself as an offshoot of groups. The different groups I associate myself with, and from which I gain my traits, and diverse and so the different parts which make me 'me' have combined here are certainly unique, but damn me if I don't know where each and everyone comes from!
Some of this is actually rather strengthening; I can look back and see people who have risen above troubles much greater than mine and take comfort that if they could do it, well their blood runs through my veins and I can do the same. But it has a dark side as well; when one identifies so strongly with people of the past, then any injustice done to them burns hotly in your head as well. I can read a book about the Irish rebellion of 1798 and be moved nearly to tears of pity and rage by what happened; I can see the inglorious remains of my Mother's family farm and commit myself to owning it once again, no matter the cost, simply because it belongs to me already in my own mind; my family's blood was spilt on that land and that means more than a peice of paper which transfered ownership from one man to another. How come could someone ever believe they could possess that land; it possesses you.
Although I pride myself on being a good man, willing to lend a hand to those in need and wishing nothing more than to make the world a better place, there is a burning hatred in me which has scared me more than once. I usually keep it in check, and it is never directed against individuals (living ones at least) but it is still there. The same one which drove a 5 year old child to tell his Mother that he would be President one day, that made a 10 year old boy tell that same Mother that it was a good thing he had not been born in Somolia not because of the starvation and choas but because "I'd have been a warlord Mom, I'd have been dangerous", or which made a 21 year old young man snarl "maybe we should take all of the oppressors in the world and give to them worse than they ever have. Two teeth for a tooth; make them understand everything that they've done". In other words, I'm stereotypically Celtic.

*sighs* I really do worry that this makes me a bad person sometimes, That the 'good person' everyone seems to see is nothing more than a construct.

....

Looking back at this; I just realized that I've suddenly become Emo. Shit!