I (Identify As), Pencil

I (Identify As), Pencil

by Pencil  

I once was a lawnmower, but now I am a pencil – Me.

Perhaps you know about a classic essay written in 1958 by the late Leonard Read, founder of the Foundation for Economic Education (FEE), titled “I, Pencil.” Recently, a guy named Lawrence Reed based a new essay, “I, Smartphone,” on Leonard’s original.

Those works by Read and Reed are fine so far as they go, but they are constrained by the conventional biases of the past, such as science and truth. They did not allow for the more enlightened perspective of individuality and subjectivity. They adopted the rigid assumption that once a pencil, always a pencil, or once a smartphone, always a smartphone. As my professors explained to me, firm definitions are artificial social constructs, but true identity is found in feelings and desires. A pencil is anything that identifies as a pencil.

I am proof that my professors are right. I was assigned lawnmower at birth, but now I identify as pencil. Why? Because I broke free of the world’s racist, patriarchal, and hierarchical prejudices that have been oppressing trans-things since the beginning of time. Finally I am the thing I always knew I was—a beautiful writing instrument and not a grass-cutting slave to the fascist power structure.

Be on notice: Insisting that I am a lawnmower and not a pencil is a hate crime. Don’t you dare! 

Moreover, I am non-binary, which means I am whatever pencil I want to be (a #2, for example). Today I am a pencil, but tomorrow I may be an ink pen. Once, while feeling nostalgic, I was a quill pen. I am maximally fluid on such matters. At this writing, my pronouns are Pe/Pi.

You can’t erase me, but I can erase you. Literally. So don’t offend me.

I find my new identity to be immensely liberating. On my own terms, I get to define what it means to be a pencil. To my comrades who also identify as pencils—whether they are former lawnmowers, kitchen sinks, or any household appliance or barnyard animal—I want you to know that you are not alone! We think and therefore we are.

Furthermore, we have rights. We have rights to pencil-affirming care from government. We have rights to compete in writing contests with all other writing implements. You cannot discriminate against us just because you “prefer” sharpies or fountain pens. Public libraries must adopt DEI policies that grant us the right to take up space on desktops with other pencils.

Nothing and no one, objective reality least of all, can claim that we are anything but who and what we say we are. I am not ashamed to be a pencil and don’t even think of asking me what the four tires are for! (I’m having them removed as part of my transition from lawnmower anyway).

You might be wondering if I can get pregnant. Though I am not presently “with pencil” as they say, I see so many pencils out there that I think it’s safe to assume that at some point, I must have been. In any event, please don’t annoy me by suggesting I can’t. And if any of those new little pencils decide they’d prefer to be a fire engine or a furry raccoon, there’ll be hell to pay if you insist they’re pencils. It goes both ways, you know.

Geena Rocero, who identifies as a human, observed that “All of us are put in boxes by our family, by our religion, by our society, our moment in history, even our own bodies.” So true! I was once imprisoned in a very large box at Home Depot. I was assigned only one forward gear, but no more! Now I have embraced who I really am. No longer can some bigots pour gasoline into me and demand that I eat grass.

The pencil community must organize and lobby the halls of Congress for the recognition to which we are entitled. Meanwhile, we will resist all efforts to define “pencil” in reactionary ways like “graphite enclosed in wood with a brass ferrule and eraser at one end and a sharpened point for writing at the other.”

We also insist on paper ballots at election time because machines should not be allowed to disenfranchise us.

Pencils of the world, unite! We have nothing to lose but our scribbles! Oops, I mean scruples.

(See “10 Essays Celebrating 60 Years of I, Pencil” and “I, Smartphone” by Lawrence W. Reed).

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(The real author of this essay identifies as the economist and historian Lawrence W. Reed, who resides in Newnan, Georgia. He blogs at www.lawrencewreed.com.)