In an interesting lecture I was listening to the other day, the presenter asked his group, “what makes this chair a chair?  What characteristics can I take away from this chair that will still allow it to be a chair?”  A few of the answers were standard and expected:  you could change the fabric of the seat or remove it entirely, you could change the colour, and so on.  After a few suggestions, he asked, “what if I removed one of the legs?  Or the back of the chair?  What would happen then?”  I couldn’t help but laugh when I heard one of the participants say, “you’d get a stool”.

The presenter was implying that by removing the leg and back from the chair, it would lose its structural identity.  For the purpose of this post, let’s define “structural characteristic” as one that if you were to take away, the item would no longer functional in its original role.  To maintain structural integrity, the item must possess all of its structural characteristics.   What I liked about the guy’s response, was how quickly and simply he had redefined the structural identity of this now amputated chair.

The same concept applies to human beings.  What makes a person a person?  Medical marvels have allowed us to live without a kidney, a lung, half of a liver, and with an artificial heart.  Women get hysterectomies all the time, losing the ability to fulfill their biological purpose — are they still “women”?  Mentioning this to a friend of mine brought up a discussion about Ayn Rand’s objectivism philosophy.  Because I haven’t read enough Ayn Rand, I think I read part of one of her books a very long time ago, I’ll decline to comment on that.

My main focus is to ask, more importantly, what makes you who you are?  What makes Melissa Malka, Melissa Malka?  Some could argue that its the ever-present cup of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, the perpetual bed-head, and the lack of willingness to take no for an answer (yes, I do it, this was a joke).  Lately, I’ve reflected a lot on what characteristics about my life have helped to define, albeit temporarily, who I am.  Student, scientist, writer, aspiring M.D., girl, friend, daughter…

If I were to lose one of those characteristics, could I, much like the aforementioned chair be redefined and repackaged into an equally stylish and functional stool?  If I didn’t go to med school, would I still be Mel?  I know if I cut the hair off…I’ll lose the crazy woman bed-head aspect, so don’t worry, the mane stays. As for the other stuff, I’m quite sure I’ll be just swanky.

Also of interest:  Julien’s Blog