Evocative Object

As a fickle person, it's hard for me to value a single object in my life above all other things I have. I'm the type of person who likes to equally cherish all things because I believe that if I don't, I'll hurt something's metaphorical feelings. But, as is required by the assignment, I've picked one object, my teddy bear.

Like every baby, toddler, teeny bopper, and everything in between, I was given a teddy bear as a child; he was bestowed upon me by my parents when I was around a year or two old. A bright pink body stuffed chock full of squishable cotton, with starry, blue eyes painted on glassy, plastic roundels, and an eternal smile stitched onto his green muzzle made up for this little girl's dream teddy. And, being the eloquent toddler I was, I gave him a fitting name: Bear. I would carry him carefully around the house, sit him at the dinner table like one of the family, and treat him with the sincere love and care a parent would give their own child; soon, this little stuffed animal became a member of my family, so much so that it actually pained me to type out "stuffed animal," because I can't think of him as anything else other than, simply, Bear.

In Evocative Objects, Turkle describes that most objects gain their value because of their important introduction into the object holder's life. Unfortunately, I have absolutely no recollection of my first encounter with Bear, I only know what I hear from my parents' retellings. But now that I think about it, I may not remember because I've only just recently understood his true value. And as I read on, I saw that Turkle further described evocative objects as things that "are able to catalyze self-creation," and I realized that Bear did help me discover myself. 

Unlike most other tweens, teenagers, and young adults, I refuse to let go of my childhood, and I keep an especially tight grip on Bear. He is my sure-fire link to the past, to those naïve and blissful years running around without a care in the world. I want to stay that happy all my life; not to say I'm going to be immature, but that I'll be careful to keep that youthful vigor about myself. I want to work for Pixar when I graduate. I want to entertain kids for a living, because I want to retain that connection with the past. That's why he sits perched on my bed even here in college, so that I don't lose myself in the responsibility of adulthood.