The best part about being adopted and a psychology major at the same time is that I get firsthand experience on the nature versus nurture phenomenon.
As its name suggests, the nature versus nurture phenomenon debates whether personal attributes, such as intelligence, are influenced by genetics, the environment or both. Given that my sister is the biological daughter of my parents, my upbringing served as the perfect setting to study this. Of course, whatever conclusions I’ve come to are not scientific facts, but rather the speculations of a 19-year-old girl.
On the surface level, my sister and I are quite different.
I would describe myself as extremely feminine, for lack of a better term. I love pastel hues, sundresses, Christmas lights, tea, books, poetry — anything that screams “dainty girly-girl.” I’m a sucker for hopeless romantic movies, absolutely despise the taste of peppermint, and see the world in quotes and lyrics and poetic verses.
I’m also very similar to my mom, who, like me, grew up involved in journalism and has the same gift with writing as I do. We’re both highly motivated, organized people who don’t mind jamming out to a little Tyler Joseph on the car ride home. Our personalities are more aligned than mine is with my dad, which all points to nurture as the culprit.
My sister, however, is nearly opposite of me. She always gravitated toward black and blues, a striking contrast to my white and pinks. She watches comedies and sitcoms rather than chick-flicks and could eat or drink anything mint flavored.
She’s more similar to my dad, in my opinion. They share the same humor and much of the same music taste. They enjoy the same hobbies that I know I’ll never be interested in. I’ve always assumed their similarities were the result of genes, but by this logic, I shouldn’t be so in-tune with my mom.
Though I don’t believe there’s necessarily a gene for liking a certain color, I think genes would be the most likely reason why we have different preferences. Environment, however, I believe predominantly influences our personal characteristics. Maybe I’m more like my mom just because I happened to spend more time with her than I did with my dad, but I don’t even know if that’s true.
All I know is that who we are is greatly intertwined with the kind of environment we grow up in. That’s why serial killers develop into serial killers, or at least partially. There’s also the idea that psychopaths, which is the common denominator among serial killers, have differences in brain make-up, which correlates to genetics.
Regardless, I believe infants are born innocent simply because they have no innate desire to hurt others. Hatred, bigotry, cruelty — these are all characteristics that we learn about and, unfortunately, sometimes absorb as we grow older and experience tragedy.
Maybe my sister and I grew up to be progressive and empathetic individuals because that’s all we knew growing up. My dad never pulled me aside and told me to help homeless people whenever I can. I just learned from watching him buy strangers their groceries. My mom never told me I had to do journalism in high school. I found that hobby on my own.
At the end of the day, I’ll never really for sure how I came to be the person I am, but I don’t think any of us really do. And that’s okay.
