The Story

The Myth of the Individual

Oct. 23, 2009 | By Jonna Knappenberger, DSJ Staff Columnist

In my senior year of high school, I applied to UVA and William and Mary and got rejected by both. I took it really hard, especially the rejection letters - early decision and regular decision - from UVA. Why was this happening to me? I’m smart. I read. I get good grades. All of my friends got in. I lived in Charlottesville. My parents both work at The University.

It has taken me five years to understand what that rejection was all about. And some people still don’t want to hear it.

I’m talking about the myth of the individual. We’re all acquainted with it, whether we’re conscious of it or not. It’s a myth we were spoon-fed since birth, an image we were taught from preschool. It’s a myth we live and breathe, a myth we struggle to define ourselves within and in the face of.

The myth goes like this: You are an individual. You are unique and have unique potential to develop your talents and offer them to the world to become famous, rich, successful however you want. All that success requires is work and dedication.

But the myth is wrong on every count. You are not an individual. You are not that unique, and �"hard work” won’t necessarily get you to �"success.” Individualism is not natural. Rather, it is a doctrine forced upon us, and ingrained among us.

It is a very difficult pill to swallow - believe me - but you have to understand: being a member of the Tribe doesn’t mean you’re special. It could be, and very often is, just anyone.

The crux of my argument is that there is no individual. We talk in terms of individual freedom and choice, as if �"the individual” is someone existing in a vacuum, away from pressures, judgments, norms, and other people. But in reality, �"no man is an island” (Thanks, John Donne). There is no such thing as an individual, free from the stresses, or lack of stresses, of social life. A human is essentially a social creature.

If that is true, then we can re-read my rejection. As a senior, and later a freshman at my last-choice college, I blamed myself. I hated the fact that I only had a 3.5 GPA. I hated that I had decided in 8th grade to take �"advanced” history and English instead of �"honors.” I was told it was just the murky admissions process, enigmatic decision-making that just happened to change my life without my permission.

And it wasn’t just me. I knew people in high school who had attempted suicide after getting rejection letters. I met jaded transfers who felt as confused as I was about our new identities when we were finally admitted.

The reality was different.

I made my 8th grade decision, which took me at least five years of my life to outrun, in the heat of the moment because I was convinced by my older brother that honors was a waste of energy. Admissions might have said no because they were having a bad day. Or they might have said no because they had reached their smart, white girl quota (quickly reached because of public school problems with boys). Or they might have reached their Charlottesville resident quota.

I’m not trying to throw a pity party. I’m just trying to prove a point. It wasn’t me. It was my circumstances. It was my situation - or, rather, our circumstances … as a society.

This is why the individual is a myth. This story we tell ourselves, while comforting, wrecks havoc on the psyches of those who can’t reach �"success.” What makes you feel on top of the world for being a good enough individual to make it to William and Mary, makes the person who didn’t get in feel like a worse individual.

My rejection story, although highly personal, is only one instance among many others. Making my case out to be one quirky error, as people usually do to explain it, only adds delusion to the myth.

The same ideology permeates society in all the worst ways. It’s what sociologists call the �"blame the victim” mentality. The myth shouts the word �"you” at people who don’t do well in life. It shouts the words �"work,” �"opportunity” and �"effort” and even (gasp) �"freedom.”

Yes, freedom is a myth too, if you look at what it means.

A few Republican governors aren’t afraid to let the cat out of the box on this repulsively ignorant video I found on YouTube:

Tim Pawlenty, of Minnesota: �"We’re a great nation in large part because we enjoy more freedom and liberty than any people that have ever lived and Republicans understand that. They know that freedom doesn’t come with crushing tax burdens that take away people’s choices and options in life.”

Butch Otter, of Idaho: �"Our republic was the first time in the history of mankind [yes, the entire history of the species is recorded over by Otter’s own pronouncement] where the individual citizen was lifted above the crown, above the governor, above the mayor. The citizen is boss.”

Sonny Perdue, of Georgia: We are a �"country that believes in freedom and liberty, the freedom for individuals and families to achieve whatever is within their desire and effort to accomplish. Or should we look at a big government that makes those decisions for us, that taxes us to the point where we must pay them and be dependent?”

And Democrats too, like President Obama, on health care: �"My guiding principle is, and always has been, that consumers do better when there is choice and competition... This plan will finally offer you quality, affordable choices.”

It’s all there. And it’s all over the healthcare debate. And the governor’s race. And the economic downturn. And the problems with Iraqis and Afghans. The politicians, media, sitcoms, dramas, History Channel specials, popular magazines (and much, much more) tell us the story in case we forget.

It is depressing to see this discourse for what it is - an oppressive rationale. We might also not need to see it for what it is - why should we if we’re on top?

But if we open our eyes to the myth that we ourselves perpetuate in our own actions, language and beliefs, we are forced to take real responsibility for our own lives and the lives of others who suffer injustice and the violence of blame.

I don’t consider myself smart because I made it to William and Mary, for getting a bachelor’s degree, for getting into an honor society. I consider myself smart in spite of all those things. I don’t consider myself a counterexample to the myth of the individual, I consider myself a case in point.

I’m not just tenaciously hard-working. I’m lucky.


Jonna Knappenberger is a staff columnist for The DSJ. Her views do not necessarily represent those of the entire staff.