Naked fat bodies.
Attempted suicide.
Two children having sex.
The theme of this column is “uncomfortable subjects”. Over the course of this semester, I hope to study the social taboos and stigmas that surround the above (along with a few other) uncomfortable subjects. I don’t think I need to go any further with the above list to make it obvious to readers why I’m writing under a pseudonym. The topics listed above should, by the standards of U.S. cultural norms, make you at least a little uneasy, if not extremely uncomfortable. These topics may invoke feelings of shame, disgust, rejection or confusion. Some of us probably wish these things didn’t exist. We might have already convinced ourselves that they’ve never existed. Children don’t have sex. Right? Or at least: not the normal ones. People don’t ordinarily try to kill themselves. Unless there’s something ‘wrong’ with them.
Conversations about these topics become even more taboo when the majority of people fall under the illusion that they are uncommon occurrences. Following this logic, the reason we can’t talk about them is because we don’t talk about them. But what does it say about our culture that we don’t talk about these things, and more, in spite of the fact that they are happening all around us. And what does it say about each of us as individual people, that the mere thought of something (not even its actual existence) makes us uncomfortable? For me, the term uncomfortable ‘subjects’ refers not only to the topics or circumstances that I will discuss here, but also to the people who occupy these circumstances. Feeling discomfort within oneself, rather than simply of the self’s surroundings, is perhaps best described by the term ‘awkwardness’. But what does ‘awkward’ actually mean? And what does it say about our culture that we experience particular events or conversations as awkward: so awkward that we avoid talking about them whenever possible?
Let me begin with basic literary definitions. What do we mean when we say something is ‘awkward’? The term awkward came into use in English during the 14th century, when the root word ‘awk’ meant “back-handed”, giving the term a meaning along the lines of “in the wrong direction”. In the 16th century, the meaning of the word was closer to that of the word “clumsy”. But still, this implies awkwardness as a generally physical sensation, whereas awkwardness in U.S. culture today more often refers to the mental sensation produced by a given situation.
Other Germanic and Latin languages from which the English language is derived do not have similar words to describe this feeling. The closest cognate in French translates to “crude” or “not tactful”. In Spanish you simply say “uncomfortable”. But think for a moment of topics which you regard as not tactful or even uncomfortable. I would argue that awkwardness today has a different meaning than mere discomfort; one that ultimately has much broader political and social significance. Awkwardness tells us something about our role as individual beings within a social body. You cannot be awkward by yourself. It stems from the everyday, routine social interactions which society requires us to perform day after day, preferably without questioning their significance or even suggesting that they have any significance at all. True awkwardness, as opposed to difficulty or discomfort, might be defined as the feeling that our ‘self’ seems somehow out of place in the social circumstances in which we locate our ‘self’.
We all know what it’s like to suddenly, sometimes out of nowhere, feel awkward. But where does our social understanding and interpretation of awkwardness come from? I hope to explore this question, as well as the others raised in this piece, by undertaking an ongoing investigation of awkwardness. And even if, in the end, you don’t agree with the answers I come up with, you might nevertheless find that you have some questions for yourself about what makes you feel awkward, and why.
