The Note

T h e   N o t e  

I admit to some anxiety about the reliability of my memory. There is a lot of anxiety about that going around among anyone over about, oh, age 40. It's dementiaphobia, to coin a diagnostic term. This is probably why I chose the title of this issue, "The Unreliability of Memory," out of all the possible choices. It's also the title of Michele Karas's poem in this issue. 

But the unreliability of memory points to an even larger issue about people, even healthy people. Sometimes we want to think that video cameras and computer memory are appropriate models for human perception and memory. They aren't. One of the reasons so many of us are connected to digital systems is because they can do things that our human memory systems don't do well. Right now, I couldn't possibly tell you what I have scheduled next month. But, let me look at my cell phone or flip over to my Outlook calendar and I can tell you. In recent years, I've taken to emailing myself all kinds of snippets of information so they are stored in my email account, because they aren't stored in my brain. (I guess, more accurately, they are in there, but I can't retrieve them.)

But again, it's more than just our vulnerability to brain diseases or the inherent limitations of the human nervous system. It's about the role of the personal narrative in human memory. We don't use our eyes and brains to videotape life. We take the raw data that comes to our senses and we shape what we see and hear, based on our personalities, our motivations, our life narratives. Enter the familiar illustration of three people who witness an accident or crime and how their stories will differ. Nobody is lying. Our memories are a blend of real events and a reality we create for our own psychological and historical reasons.

Over time, as our lives change, we revisit those memories and they evolve. I have stories I have told many times and, at this point, I can't even guess how closely my memory of the events would match a hypothetical videotape of what happened. There is no such thing as a completely accurate autobiography. 

Sometimes people lie. But, really, in another sense, nobody is lying. 

We always enjoy putting together these extra-short-poem issues. And, being short, they are easier to remember. This one is all poems at or under 30 words. Thanks to all who submitted and to all whose work appears in the issue.

Dale

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