indigenous people

Here’s what I think. There are two basic kinds of people, extroverts and introverts. Okay, this is not Sociology 101, and I’m not plagiarizing Carl Jung. I’m also not ridiculing our collective tendency to lump fellow humans into one of two groups, although think about that for a minute. Brown-eyed vs. blue-eyed. Republican vs. Democrat. People who like the toilet paper flap facing toward the back, vs. those who prefer it in front.

But I digress. What interests me are the labels themselves – or, more precisely, what they mean to us. Sure, the first group reaches out and the second one reflects. Social butterflies flitting amongst shrinking violets. We think of them as polar opposites – but are they?

I have a dear family member whom I refer to – privately, mind you – as Tigger. She bounds out of bed. She bounces through her workday. She ricochets through the week being chatty and chipper with everyone. I am in fact using her alias here intentionally, because if she learned I’d mentioned her she’d bounce right over and shoot me. But beyond that, you simply cannot help but love, admire and adore her. She lifts you up and leaves you grinning, and it’s completely natural and unrehearsed. I once tried to emulate her at a holiday luncheon and sounded like a loon. People actually paused mid-bite, forks suspended and eyebrows raised, to wonder if I needed urgent medical attention.

Now of course, I should have known better. Because when it comes to interrelating, I’m a natural-born sideliner. I watch. I consider. I observe the situation, normally while it’s taking place, often with me in it. I’m not shy by any means – on the contrary, I very much enjoy hearing what you have to say. I just like to be alone and think, always with that miniscule trace of reflective melancholy. And here’s what’s interesting: I cannot count the number of times my more outgoing brethren have accused me of “failing to be in the moment.”

We speak such a unique mix of languages, and many of them have little to do with cultural dialect. Of course there are times we’ll fail to understand each other. But when we as humans are confronted with something we don’t understand, why do we put so much energy into making it more like us? You extroverts shape the moment by acting upon it. We introverts frame it by analyzing, playing it back. And in so doing, we frequently make it more significant than the sum of its parts.

Not long ago, I attended an exhibit on ancient civilizations. It talked about the Aztecs, the Mayans, the Incas, the Zapotech, and it really was fascinating. One contributed modern language. Another perfected cutting tools. Still others advanced transportation, weaving methods, agriculture. But here’s what I found most striking: All of these societies had members who functioned as warriors, and others who served as scribes. The warriors fought and foraged -- made sure the tribe was fed, clothed and sheltered. The scribes watched and memorized – recorded events for posterity. One group action-takers, the other passive thinkers. Both collaborating, in two entirely different ways, to make sure their people lived on.