Even California gurls ain't perfect

I spent a week in Hungary over Winter Break. Most Hungarians I talked to while I was there had a negative—they called it “realistic”—outlook for themselves and their country. The challenging times they’ve experienced over the past 70 years have caused them to become disillusioned with the government and with institutions in general. It’s probably a tourist’s naïve over-generalization to conclude that Hungarians are pessimistic people, but that’s definitely the impression I got. Given that Hungary ranked number 103 in the 2010 Gallup World Poll of happiest countries, maybe my gut feeling wasn’t too far from the truth.

One day I was sitting in a small restaurant in Budapest. It was 10 degrees outside and snowing, and the gusty winds were making the weather bone-chillingly cold. It was dark outside, there weren’t many street lights, and few people were walking about. All in all, a rather gloomy evening.

Eating a plate of lamb stew, I suddenly heard a familiar tune playing on the radio.

“I know a place

Where the grass is really greener

Warm, wet and wild,

There must be something in the water

...

We’ll melt your popsicle

Oh oh oh oh”

You got it, that’s “California Gurls” by Katy Perry.

The five minutes I spent listening to that song encapsulated, for me, the mystique of America. There I was in not-too-cheery Hungary on an exceptionally dreary day and Katy Perry was singing to me most enthusiastically about a place “where the grass is really greener” and where the “unforgettable” girls all have “sun-kissed skin.”

If you’re an American, you might not be aware of the aura that surrounds America, but as an international student from Singapore I can tell you that it definitely exists.

Before coming to America for college, it really seemed to me like Americans were better-looking, wealthier, cooler and happier than everyone else. Over the past four years, though, I’ve come to realize that there are good-looking and less good-looking, wealthy and poor, cool and uncool, happy and unhappy Americans.

Don’t get me wrong, I think America is a wonderful place with amazing things to offer anyone who sets foot here: opportunities, freedom, hope, bustling cities, beautiful landscapes… But America also faces challenges such as healthcare reform, immigration issues and social inequality.

The charming, alluring side of America is the one that most often gets projected to the rest of the world, usually in a most compelling manner. At the end of the day, however, that’s only part of the story.

Nations are not the only entities that present idealized images of themselves. This phenomenon of revealing only a portion of the truth is something that we do in our personal lives too.

Whether it’s a rush event or a job interview, we try to present an image of ourselves we think others will like, but when we’re constantly adjusting our behavior because of how we anticipate others will perceive us, we eventually come to a point where it’s hard to truthfully answer the question “Who am I?”

In this digital age we live in, “Who am I?” has become an even more complex question. We exhibit a different persona when we blog, tweet, GChat, use Facebook or LinkedIn. For example, most people try to appear more intellectual when they blog, more fun when they use Facebook, and more professional when they’re on LinkedIn. It’s a trend Soraya Darabi, named the 53rd most creative person in business in 2010 by Fast Company, has called the “multiple e-dentity disorder.” This is a problem that we as a digital generation need to address.

In his book “American Scandal,” Pat Williams tells the story of Mahatma Gandhi speaking before England’s Parliament about granting independence to India. Gandhi spoke eloquently for almost two hours without referring to any notes, and received a standing ovation at the end of his address. Afterward, a reporter asked Gandhi’s assistant, Mahadev Desai, how Gandhi had been able to deliver such a rousing speech without any notes.

“You don’t understand Gandhi,” Desai replied. “You see, what he thinks is what he feels. What he feels is what he says. What he says is what he does. What Gandhi feels, what he thinks, what he says, and what he does are all the same.”

I believe an important life goal is to become a completely authentic person, where—like Gandhi—what we feel, think, say and do are perfectly aligned. But we first need to recognize that nobody’s flawless, not even “California gurls,” who judge us for not having “sun-kissed” skin like them, and that the people who don’t like us for who we are are the ones who usually ought to matter least to us.

Daniel Wong is a Pratt Senior. His column runs every other Wednesday.