Hi, I'm Jackie Ma.
Who Am I?
The short answer:
- An idealist navigating reality.
The long answer:
Most probably like you, I think identity isn’t limited to demographic data. Of course, we can define ourselves by our occupation, class, gender, ethnicity, and age. And while these give insight into what our lives are like, none of these give a satisfactory answer to who we are, our essence.
So, if it’s not our demographic info that defines us, what does? Our experiences? Aspirations? Actions? Beliefs? Personality traits?
- While our past experiences shape us, what we’ve done doesn’t equal who we are.
- And while our aspirations shed light on who we want to be, by definition, it isn’t us.
And most probably like you, I have my ups and downs. For me, my highs look very different than my lows. Hence, answering with a description of how I am during a high or low doesn’t feel completely true.
Yet funny enough, during a down period I discovered what felt authentic. During this low, I found myself aggressive, frustrated and discouraged. And for a long time, I really didn’t like these parts of me. I felt as if without them I’d be a fixed person.
To get rid of those parts, I resigned myself to apathy and escaped into hedonistic pleasures. In other words, I said f*** it, might as well enjoy myself. And while it felt pleasurable, it didn’t feel right. Not because of any moral objections, but because it just didn’t feel authentic.
The apathy feeling so incongruent, made me wonder,
“Is this it? Is this really who I am?”
To avoid getting burned, I put out the fire. And in this process, I realized those emotions of anger, frustration, and disappointment came from the same flame that fueled my passion, empathy, and optimism.
So, when I said f*** it, I said f*** it to all of it.
And this felt so wrong because I knew deep down that I cared. But about what?
I’ve cared about things in the past. Literally enough to alter my life. Ideals that, even in my lows, I never strayed too far away from.
Rediscovering that I shined the brightest when I felt connected to ideals bigger than myself, I couldn’t help but ask myself the question, what about now?
In college, it was veganism or as I like to call it, a culture of normalized non-violence. I changed my daily consumption habits and even got fit (I thought vegans needed better PR) to align my actions a little closer with my values.
In high school, it was environmentalism, where I changed my diet and even shaved my head trying to bring awareness to deforestation.
As a kid, it was broader ideals like empathy and kindness, which I probably got from my mom. I’d see her drive past a houseless person and without hesitation she’d drive us home to bring back jackets and blankets. Witnessing those moments, I saw how we can move our shared reality a little closer to the ideal.
- So, in many senses, I am an idealist. But as you know reality is far from ideal.
Any naivete I had about this growing up quickly left when I went to Berkeley. While I love Berkeley, an amazing place where I got introduced to conceptual and concrete ways to understand the world, the ideals professed were largely influenced by the sharp reality of inequality in the city.
The sheer amount of people in need seemed so much bigger than anything I can do. Whatever I did felt like a drop of water in the ocean.
So, it turned out reality could be overwhelming.
Not just the harshness of the world, but the reality of being human: the doubt and helplessness we occasionally face within ourselves.
Of course, one person cannot singlehandedly fix every wrong in the world.
Fortunately, in Berkeley, I also gained inspiration from the generations of activists and idealists before us. They literally changed the landscape of our reality to be closer to the ideals they so relentlessly believed in.
Believing in the value of striving for the ideal, they had the audacity to face the overwhelming harshness of reality. They did so knowingly, that even if they accomplished a momentous mission, there would be more to overcome. To do work never meant to be finished but done, nonetheless.
We stand on the shoulders of these idealists that recognized the possibility of our reality. Yet every generation is limited by what it knows. To continue their legacy, we need faith not just in the collective, but ourselves.
So that brings me back to the question of what do I care about now?
The marketable answer: Helping people reignite their fire. Showing them how to shine brighter without getting burned. Helping them take care of themselves so they can awaken the confidence, courage, and audacity within to say yes to their possibilities.
The wordy answer: Raising the collective consciousness of our generation. Reality is far from ideal. But that’s precisely why it matters. Starting with navigating the realities of our own doubt, we can, with optimism and strategic patience, align our actions a little closer to our values, align our convictions a little closer to our possibilities, and align our reality a little closer to our ideals.
So at the end of the day, I’m just another guy.
Another imperfect person who’d like to believe in our shared possibilities.
Another emotional idealist who so eagerly wants to contribute to something larger than themself.
