Who are we and do we ever stop asking the question?

Recently, a wise person asked me the question, who are you?  It was not the search for my job title, family placement or bank account, but rather the prompt for me to look at who is it that opens my eyes in the morning and how I see the world.  When she asked I recalled the sixties and how everyone seemed like they were trying to find themselves.  And I remembered how it became a kind of a joke about people who were more preoccupied with finding themselves than rolling their sleeves up and getting to work.

Since moving to Fresno six years ago, I have been frustration by people whose primary preoccupation seems to be complaining  to others, looking at what doesn't work.  In our political climate massive amount of time is focused on proving the other wrong instead of finding solutions.

Yet questions are often more powerful than the answer and the story by Mas Masumoto in the Sunday edition of the Fresno Bee asks that important question, who are we?

US Air and Sunset Magazine are in town this week asking the same question, preparing to tell our story and they are not coming to write complaints.  Last weekend I entertain my old boss from Sun Microsytems, driving the Blossom Trail, shopping for antiques, having tea at the Victorian Rose, planning the trip to Yosemite.  They left wanting to come back, wishing they had more time.  I'll bet the folks who read the US Air inflight magaize and Sunset will be left with questions, maybe some that we should be focusing on instead of trying to prove how bad things are?

Perhaps it is time to ask ourselves the question Mas Masumoto asked:

Who Are We? By David Mas Masumoto, 2/28/10, Fresno Bee

There is no there here. That's what many claim about our Valley. We have no identity, there's nothing special about our home. L.A. is L.A., S.F. is S.F. So who are we?

We are used to living in the shadows of our big city coastal cousins. (I wonder if they even consider us family?) Our Valley is home to many cultures, yet some question if we even have culture. We are a bit more country than some are comfortable with.

We are defined more by what we are not. Thankfully, we're not L.A. or S.F., some locals will say with pride. Us against the world might not be a bad strategy to define ourselves.

So who are we? Practical. Pragmatic. Tenacious.

We work hard but resist labor organizing. When the going gets tough, we harden with a resilience that sometimes lacks flexibility.

We're hard-headed like our hard-pan rocks and consider that trait a compliment. We're more apt to identify with the everyday person than the celebrity. We're comfortable surrounded by common folk.

And we share a strong sense of place. When driving, you can only enter our Valley through mountain passes. There's a clear line between them and us: We live in the other California.

We have a place-based identity. Our weather, which may be mild compared with other areas, feels extreme with bone-chilling fog and summer heat waves. Our lives are anchored to a physical connection with the world; much of our labor force is connected with the land, including agriculture and related businesses such as construction, and recreation.

Our agrarian roots still matter. In our family pedigrees, many have farming lineages. We can't escape nor deny our farmer past.

We often identify ourselves by the small town we grew up in. High school memories matter later in life, especially if you graduated from a rural school.

Often our cities function as small villages, fiercely independent. Tulare is not Visalia, Selma is not Sanger, don't confuse Coalinga with Corcoran.

We have a good-enough attitude that things aren't that bad here. Don't worry, we're fine. We can work things out ourselves. The less government and outside intervention, the better.

Yet frustration is growing. More are voicing their discontent. Rather than leave, they're trying to do something. The ominous realities of bad air, lack of water, high unemployment and low education levels are incongruities we won't live with quietly. We are no longer willing to make ourselves stupid by denial.

Are we at a tipping point of change? I don't believe we're quite there yet. Innovation is always a long, slow process. We don't skip steps here in the Valley. Change implies uncertainty and we don't cope with that well. People thrive on a failure to adapt, at least for the short term, because it's perceived as safer, cautious and stable. Some will claim they want to die here because change takes an extra 10 years in our Valley.

Are we ready to start solving big problems? Perhaps. We don't have a healthy infrastructure of organizations to lead the Valley into a new century. We are faced with an immense time gap: a lag between the urgency and the ability to change.

Studies from philanthropic foundations often cite the lack of nonprofits and the shallow pool of experienced leaders to facilitate change. We are young, still maturing.

So who are we? Ironically, due to a fragmented state, we live in a time when our identity can be forged.

There is no statewide identity. Few of us strictly identify ourselves as Californians with the conviction someone from Texas would proclaim. We are divided into NorCal and SoCal, Bay Area and L.A., the coast and mountains and the Inland Empire. Our state is governed more like a union of places than as a whole.

But when will the language of the Valley overcome our own provincial attitudes? If we keep thinking of ourselves as city-states, we remain locked in a feudal order that never develops into a regional perspective.

We in the Valley are all in this together. Does Fresno have more in common with LA or with Merced or Modesto? A joke about Bakersfield hurts Stockton, too. UC Merced is not just the property of Merced, but all of the Valley.

We have a culture here that should be acknowledged and celebrated. It's an emotional connection to and with a place. Crucial decision making must include how we value ourselves. That's when we begin to trust our stories as we cope with the uncertainties of progress and change.

Yes, we have a slow culture here and that's not bad. Change will be gradual perhaps, reflecting a culture of compromise. Incremental solutions can work so long as they're part of a larger vision of change.

And in the near future, we will be faced with major shifts. A growing Latino culture will not be denied. Demographically, our Valley is a very young and youthful region. Waves of immigration still use our Valley as a port of entry. It's in our self-interest as homeowners and businesses to debunk myths of these new arrivals: They strive to be middle class and hunger for social mobility. They are an asset.

Big things can happen. We will muddle through problems but can reach the proper balance of public and private investment if we train ourselves to make decisions in better ways.

Slogans and promotional campaigns alone won't work. It begins with knowing who we are.

Award-winning author and organic farmer David Mas Masumoto of Del Rey writes about the San Joaquin Valley and its people. He is author of new book “Wisdom of the Last Farmer: Harvesting Legacies from the Land.”