Finding My People
Posted by Elizabeth
I was sitting in a darkened theatre last Saturday, watching one of the worst community theatre productions I have ever witnessed (as a performer, you must know you’re in trouble when the audience doesn’t have a clue that the show is over, even when the entire cast is standing on stage). While I rolled my eyes, stifled giggles, and whispered incessantly to Maikael, the people around me sent up gales of laughter and fits of applause into the theatre.
These are not my people, I thought to myself.
Where's Waldo? And, while we're searching, where are my people?
Finding your people. It’s a topic I’ve been pondering a great deal these days. Who are your people? And how do you find them? Your people are not necessarily your friends. Your people might not even be individuals that you actually know. For example, when I visit the Pacific Northwest – particularly Seattle, where I was born and raised – I feel like I am amongst my people. It’s not the clothes they wear, the cars they drive, the houses they live in, the jobs they have, or even their interests. It’s their frame of mind, the ideals they hold nearest and dearest to their heart, their values. How could you know these things about a person without ever having talked to them? I think it’s a collective conscious that rises up from the din of these shared beliefs and permeates the environment. Perhaps the best word is like-minded. You just know you’re with your people. I know it every time I pick up a copy of The Stranger when I’m in Seattle and laugh myself silly, and when I flip bored and mindlessly through Albuquerque’s equivalent, The Alibi.
These are not my people.
I’m not saying I’m not amongst my people in Albuquerque. I have plenty of moments when I feel I’m amongst my people, but I have just as many moments where I feel like I don’t fit in. Which is a very lonely feeling, indeed. I thought I was searching for my people, but I recently realized I was searching for friends, and, as I’ve already established, that is a different thing altogether. Some might call finding your people finding community, but I don’t think that’s quite right, either. You don’t necessarily share a common bond, a prerequisite for community. Your people are those who understand you without knowing you. You like them instantly. I was at a party not too long ago, and I met a lovely young couple. I couldn’t put my finger on why I liked them so much, but after talking with them for just a few minutes I thought,
These are my people.
I think you've got the idea.
How much does geography have to do with finding your people? How much are we a product of our environment? If we move away from the place we grew up, are we destined to feel adrift in the world? I know plenty of people who moved away from their hometown for a time, only to feel called to return at some point in the future. On the same token, I’ve known just as many who never felt they were amongst their people where they grew up, and left home to find home. How much does feeling “at home” have to do with finding your people? I watched an Oprah episode on last week on happiness across the globe. As Oprah interviewed countless women from Denmark, who spoke about the culture’s values of education, humanity, family, religion, and consumerism, I found myself thinking,
These are my people.
But if I were to move to Denmark? You know I’d never fit in; I’d likely always feel like an outsider looking in. The Danes would look at me and say,
She is not our people.
How, then, do I find (more of) my people? I know you’re out there. Do I place a personal ad in the paper, listing all the desired qualities I’m seeking in my people? But even that would be an incomplete description, because I’m not searching for a friend or a partner through quantifiable means. I’m searching for someone — something – I can’t quite define. I love this quote from blogger Kelly Diels, who writes:
Me: I’m trying to find my people.
Friend: I would have thought that you’re trying to find yourself.
Me: I’m not trying to find myself. That’s a battle I surrendered, long ago.
Perhaps I am the same way. Perhaps it’s so important for me to find my people because I know I’ll never find myself, and finding my people will, at the very least, be some reflection of me.
Who are your people? How do you define them? Do you feel like you’ve found your people, or are you still looking?
November 6th, 2009 at 7:36 am
I love this post. I ask myself these questions ALL THE TIME. This part: “How much does geography have to do with finding your people? How much are we a product of our environment? If we move away from the place we grew up, are we destined to feel adrift in the world?” I wish I had an answer to that one. I guess it depends on the person. It’s so easy to think the perfect location or the perfect move will fulfill this need we have…and that’s a dicey road to go down. It takes the power to find “your people” away from you. But while I don’t think location is everything…I DO think it matters. There are parts of the country I can go, and feel an immediate kinship with people that I can’t explain. And there are places that just feel homey…where you know if you stayed long enoug, you’d find “your people”. Unfortunately, “my people” are scattered all over the country.
November 6th, 2009 at 7:54 am
Nice post. I never really considered it before, but you’re right. In a new city I haven’t quite found my people, and I think it contributes to a feeling of loneliness/restlessness. BTW, I decided long ago you’re most definitely “my people”.
November 6th, 2009 at 9:28 am
Jodi, you’re definitely “my people,” too. And I can say that with confidence, even though I’ve never met you!
November 6th, 2009 at 9:33 am
Great thoughts and questions. And here’s something frustrating: What if you love a place, but your people aren’t there? Can you, like, recruit them from a possibly gray and rainy or cold local and say, “But look, over here you’ve got sun. We could discuss all our favorite topics from a picnic blanket rather than a coffeehouse.” Does it have to come down to a decision between place or people? What if we want both?
I can only speak from personal experience, but I thought after Alaska no place would feel like home. Now here I am in Central Oregon—a place that feels like home; a place that charms me with its wide open sky and funky rock formations. But it’s not enough. The loneliness is killing me. I’d take a gloomy overcast day with my people over this any day, because that gloom is on the outside rather than in.
November 6th, 2009 at 10:23 am
Wendell Berry says, “You can’t know who you are until you know where you’re from.” I think that’s a way of talking about your people, although the land always figures greatly into his thoughts. I think we’d all be, generally, happier if we stayed put. Nice post, Elizabeth.
November 6th, 2009 at 11:21 am
Dear “Hortencia” It was a pleasure to meet you and Mikael last night at the Soup Party. I would venture to guess based on reading your blogs that we are not your people, but I certainly think we enjoyed each other’s company last night. Hope to see ya at the next Nob Hill Shop & Stroll. Love, The Martins
November 6th, 2009 at 2:30 pm
I love those rare moments when I walk among my people. But sometimes people who aren’t my people surprise me and become my people if I give them a chance. Kind of like my husband. He is not my people. I grafted him in.
Oh people.
November 6th, 2009 at 3:00 pm
Like Anne, I love this post, and ponder these questions every day. I think I ponder them since moving to a place in the last 2 years that doesn’t quite fit geographically and not so much in worldview either. I’m looking for my people and I hope they are looking for me, too.
November 6th, 2009 at 3:30 pm
We actually moved two towns away to live amongst our people. The town we were living in was too narrow minded. The next town over was too materialistic. The town we moved to was smart, open minded and doesnt give a shit about the kind of car you drive. I know not everyone in the town is of my people – but I pretend that they are. Im probably right about 80 percent of the time.