My Identity

I am a woman. I am divorced. I am a mother. I am a daughter. I am a sister. I am a friend. I am a lawyer. I am a teacher. I am a consultant. I love reading. I love writing. I love cooking. I love nature. I love peace and quiet. I wear glasses. I wear my natural hair in sisterlocks. I am terrified of flying. I am terrified of swimming. I am stubborn. I love hard and I hurt even harder. I believe in God. I equally believe in science. I love to learn. I learn something new every day. Sometimes, I feel I would wither away and die if education was not a central part of my life. I believe in the concept of ‘sister friends’ (you know friends who are so close, that they might as well be your sisters). I love, love, love my family and friends! To a fault. I always put everyone else first before me. I have had to learn in therapy to care for myself and that self-care is not selfish (more about that later in a different blog post). I am black. A black African. I was born in Larteh-Akuapem in the Eastern Region of Ghana to Ghanaian parents. My parents are Kwaku Ansa-Asare, a towering presence in my life, and Helena Ansa-Asare, a mild-mannered treasure of a woman. She is literally my rock. My parents have shaped who I am without a doubt. I attended Wesley Girls’ High School (those who know, know what that means!). I could describe myself in many other different ways. But who am I really? What is my identity? I have often asked myself this question: “if anyone asks me to describe myself in one sentence, what would I say?” Would I describe myself in terms of my personality or what I do for a living? Believe it or not, it has taken me two decades to answer this question. It’s a shame that the penny dropped for me after I lost a dear friend of mine, Pedro, a few months ago. Pedro taught me many things during our decade-long friendship. The most important lesson I learnt from Pedro was to live intentionally and to be true to myself unapologetically. I agreed with Pedro wholeheartedly. The only problem was that I did not know how to live intentionally and I certainly did not know who I was in order to be true to myself, let alone unapologetically. It occurred to me from talking to my sister friends that they too, like me, agreed wholeheartedly that we really should live intentionally and be true to ourselves unapologetically. Except that they too, like me, struggled with how to live intentionally and unapologetically. This is my journey, with my sister friends, on discovering who I truly am and being unapologetic about my identity. I teach law, the Ghanaian legal system and method to be precise. One of the topics I teach is ‘statutory interpretation'. This, in simple terms, relates to how courts determine the meaning of certain words and phrases in statutory provisions in ascertaining the intention of Parliament when it makes laws. Boring, I know, but fascinating stuff indeed! I thought about statutory interpretation when I thought about the meaning of the word ‘unapologetic’. If I applied the literal rule guiding statutory interpretation, I would have to consult the dictionary to look up the word ‘unapologetic’. And so I did. The Oxford English Dictionary defines ‘unapologetic’ as ‘not acknowledging or expressing regret’. Is this what Pedro meant? That I should not acknowledge or express regret about who I am? What if I am wrong? Should I not acknowledge it? What if I have hurt someone? Should I not express regret? Pedro often made it clear to me that he knew who he was and was unapologetic about it – the good, the bad, and the ugly. But he was the kindest, most genuine person I knew. He was quick to acknowledge when he was at fault and had no qualms at all about apologising for his mistakes if he made them. What then did he mean when he insisted that I had to be unapologetic about who I was? If Pedro was Parliament, and I was to ascertain his intention in the use of the word ‘unapologetic’, I would have to apply another approach in giving meaning to the word ‘unapologetic’ as he intended it. I thought about the purposive approach to interpretation. Essentially, the purposive approach would require me to examine the intent or purpose behind Pedro’s use of that word. He certainly did not mean for me to be arrogant in not acknowledging or expressing regret if I offended people. I think what he meant was for me to know who I am. To know that I am not perfect. To accept myself for the imperfect human being that I am and to make no apologies for that. Of course, being imperfect, I am bound to offend people along the way. It is that offence that requires apology and not the person that I am, which encompasses everything I described about myself earlier. I have made mistakes and no doubt will make more before I die. When I have seen pain, when I have found that my ineptness has caused displeasure, I have learned to accept my responsibility and to forgive myself first, then to apologize to anyone injured by my misreckoning. Since I cannot un-live history, and repentance is all I can offer God, I have hopes that my sincere apologies were accepted. You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them…. Be certain that you do not die without having done something wonderful for humanity…” I was reflecting on Maya Angelou’s words when I visited Pedro’s beautiful final resting place in Portugal. In that quiet reflective moment with his family and dearest friends, I was certain that Pedro knew who he was. He had lived his life with intention and had made peace in his heart with everyone he may have offended along the way. I was certain that he did not die without having done something wonderful for humanity. And then the penny dropped. With tears in my eyes, standing in the most beautiful spot in the world, I knew who I was. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Irene Ansa-Asare. I am an educated African woman. Unapologetically so.