This afternoon on NPR, I listened to part of a fascinating TED talk and then an interview of a guy who does genetic/psycho-social research of some sort. He was talking about the fact that his 5th-great grandfather killed his own mother, and there had been seven other violent criminals in his family tree since then. He has researched and apparently proved that these violent tendencies appear genetically in somewhat random but repeating cycles. Through brain scans, genetic testing, MRI's and such, several scientists have been able to detect both a predisposition to violence and seen where it activates in the brain. This researcher had found that he himself had all the markings of a violent person. The defining characteristic of those who become criminals, however, is missing for him: a direct, personal exposure to brutality in 3-D reality before the onset of puberty. It was riveting to hear his story, and an accompanying one of a writer who was at one time married to a Wall Street genius who, after worshiping her for two years, became abusive just before they married. It was riveting---and a little terrifying. The imagery that he used to drive home his point was that we are all born of a genetic casino, with a hundred dice thrown for our genetic traits and hundreds of thousands of combinations possible.
I have no knowledge of any murderers in my family---though my great-grandma, the one who was alive until I was 15, was a McCoy, supposedly of the Hatfield/McCoy fame. But this story did get me thinking about how much of the individual personality is truly innate. I've always believed that in the nature/nurture debate, it's split about 50/50. But then there are things I have no reason for in my character.
What convinces me nurture has more power is the monumental influence of my farm/ranch childhood: I am naturally pretty lazy, but my parents taught us to work hard and expect no handouts. I have interests more geared to large populations, but I love a country lifestyle like the one I grew up with. No matter how smart a person is, I think a little less of them if they don't develop and use their common sense. Although I believe in gun rights, I don't understand the obsession with them currently in fashion, which I attribute to my extremely cautious and non-hunting father. No matter how many kinds of music I enjoy, for the rest of my life, the lonesome wail of a Hank Williams song or the timbre of Johnny Cash's voice or just a steel guitar on the right notes will be able to transport me back to my earliest years. I was born a naturally chatty child, but was bullied so relentless after third grade, when I changed schools, that I've struggled ever since to believe that people have any interest in knowing me. Conversely, I learned that I was a good teacher over time, when my students succeeded or gave me good evaluations. That was what I grew my whole self-esteem from for the last 25+ years. I've seen the same kind of stories, different details, played out in so many lives that I've lost count now. I couldn't ignore the impact of so much influence without negating the greatest part of my life.
What leads me to believe nature can overwhelm nurture, besides that NPR interview? I'm writing tonight listening to a blues channel, a form of music that spoke to me so deeply the first time I heard it that it felt like I was in church---yet I had no knowledge of it until I was in my 20's. While I teach American literature and generally despise British lit, there is no explaining why I fell instantly in love with Jane Eyre and a few of Jane Austen's novels so deeply that I read them over and over. I love to dance and am good at it (or used to be, before I lost the feeling in my feet), though I knew nothing of dancing until I went to college; I just understood it, the way some people understand how to play instruments by ear. I can also see all the things that I KNOW came genetically from my family because so many of us share the traits: a sweet tooth, a broad love of music, a talent for learning, the insatiable desire to travel, a gift for baking, no fashion gene at all, the desire to help others, an absolutely ridiculous enjoyment of babies and children, a lack of patience for waiting or sitting around, too much pride and ambition at times, not much skill at reading people. And over all those things, an intensely private daily life, craving peace, quiet, and harmony, one that I set the parameters for, stubbornness being the one quality most of both sides of my family share.
Which side wins? I don't know. Probably with all of us, it's one side one day, another the next. It may change from minute to minute. I think I know myself well enough to say that I'd never get myself engaged in a blood feud like Grandma's people did---but then, I can hold a grudge until the end of time. That'd play pretty well with Anse McCoy, come to think of it. I'm glad that when it comes to my genetic dice shoot, I don't have to find out whether I'm more Lizzie Borden or Mother Theresa.
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