Who Am I?

Years ago I saw a TV show starring Rich Little. The talented Canadian brought to life a fascinating role: a man with such a weak self image he could act only in the guise of others. When his wife asked him a simple question, one he thought required a macho answer, Rich would act/sound exactly like John Wayne. If the response begged for a romantic voice, you'd swear the actor was Clark Gable. If mousy, Peter Lorre would come to the fore. The wife became infuriated, of course, because the man was neverhimself.

I also heard a man whose wisdom everyone respects say that one of the TV talk-show hosts literally has no soul. That he is an antropmorphized chameleon who could as easily assume the identity of Tarzan as a world-class chess player. After I heard that, I watched the personality closely and began to see what the man meant; the performer was, like Rich Little's part, neverhimself, he was always and only a reaction to what was in front of him and the way he thought others would expect him to act.

The third decade I was at Sugar Loaf I met an individual that reminded me of both these performers. If I caught Sterling Bayliss unexpectedly he would be as somber as a clam. His face would be drawn, his eyes dull, totally non communicative. But as soon as he became aware of my presence, he went into a here-I-am-mode, look-at-me, I'm-going-to-act-just-like-you-want-me-to-so-you-won-t-see-who-I-really-am act.

You've seen that throughout these reminisces that I've stayed away

from psychiatric terms. I will continue to do so with Mr. Bayliss, because when you come right down to it, who really cares for the polysyllabic nomenclature? What's important is what the mandid.

Sterling had played his game of self-denial and defensiveness for so long (thirty-seven of his forty-two years) that he no longer remembered who he was. He began to think it was normal (and it was for him) to be a mirror of the person facing him. When I realized Sterling's modus operandi, I couldn't help eavesdropping when he met the other Residents to see how he acted with them. When he spoke with the Witch, for instance. I noticed that he was really the only one who got away with treating her the way she did the others. I concluded that she realized that he was mirroring her. I also saw that when he spoke with T.T. he repeated himself, repeated himself, repeated himself. It was only when I caught him alone that he exhibited no personality. With no one to react to, he was utterly empty.

There were many activities at Sugar Loaf, most aimed to get the Residents' minds off their conditions, to get out of their chaotic selves and interact with others. My notes tell me that in the three years I was associated with Mr. Bayless, I seldom saw him alone. He preferred to be in public areas among people so he wouldn't be lost.

Because of his Rich Little reactions, then sensing his face drop after he left you, most of the Residents had nothing to do with the man. I know exactly how the people felt. After a few encounters, one gets tired of seeing someone mimicking you. You want some meat on the bones, a real identity. I regretted that Sterling never broke out of his condition so he could see his real self and act autonomously. As it was, I'm convinced that he died as the Resident who had no clue who he really was.