Fraud, identity theft, false advertising, being switched at birth—as modern citizens who take pride in our individuality and dignity, we have much to be afraid of. We do not like to be fooled, or at least we don’t like to know that we are being fooled. Authenticity is a priceless quality to many. It is the essence of something, the root of it, the way we are able to understand something.
The fear of inauthenticity pervades contemporary culture—from the highest to the lowest segments of it. Just last summer, billionaire Bill Koch settled a lawsuit against a wine retailer worth millions of dollars, for selling him counterfeit wines.
One of the shows MTV currently produces, “Catfish,” reflects this same hostility towards being duped. “Catfish” follows people who meet romantic partners online, and appear on the show to find out whether these partners are actually who they say they are.
With both Koch’s wine and Catfish, the problem is akin to false advertising; people are offended because they have been sold something different from what they set out to buy.
On a trickier level, many take issue with the idea of people presenting themselves in a way that is not true to their self or their background. This is especially true in the music world.
Hip-hop star Iggy Azalea has been heavily criticized for the voice she uses when she performs, as well as her overall expression. Although she is a white woman from Australia, she sounds like she is trying to imitate an African-American when she raps. Australian comedian Aamer Rahman (who visited Bowdoin last fall), has said on the subject: “A white rapper like Iggy Azalea acts out signifiers which the white majority associates with black culture—hypersexuality, senseless materialism, an obsession with drugs, money and alcohol, as well as adopting clothing, speech and music—as a costume that they can put on and discard at will. It’s a cheap circus act.”
Her performance is definitely a form of appropriation, and it is certainly not authentic in the sense that she is selling a persona that is not true to her background or circumstances. But can it still be an allowable form of artistic expression?
Hip-hop stars like Drake have also been confronted about their authenticity. Can he really sing a song called “Started from the Bottom” if he grew up in an affluent suburb and acted on “Degrassi” as a teen? Does the song carry less meaning because of his stable background?
The ways that people can get riled up over the idea of a true identity are particularly interesting because they suggest we believe in an essential self. We believe that people, on a certain level, are permanently affected by their circumstances, and that these circumstances form our true selves. So if you deny your roots, or try to appropriate different ones, are you creating a self that is false? Are you presenting a lie? Are you trying to become somebody that you never will?
Trans-exclusionary feminists have often made the argument that trans-women aren’t real women because they didn’t grow up as such. They weren’t treated as women growing up; they didn’t have the experience of women. But to make that argument is to say there is an essential woman’s experience—that there is something exclusive to women that brings us all together. I’d like to think an entire gender is more complicated than that.
There is something to be said for trying to grasp cultures and experiences beyond your own. But those who attempt to bridge the gap, those who try and adopt an experience outside of their own, must be ultra-sensitive to the way that certain people feel ownership of a culture. Perhaps being authentic isn’t the most important thing. Perhaps being comfortable with yourself and respectful of others is more fundamental.
As a society, I think we should give people leeway and creative license to reinvent themselves, especially if that lets them further explore their identities. It seems negative and authoritarian to tell people how authentic they are. And as individuals, I think we owe it to ourselves to be thoughtful about adopting new elements of expression and identity. Our origins and heritage will always be a part of us, even if we can fake an accent.