I was on my yearly listen of Hamilton a few days ago when some lyrics in the Broadway phenomenon sparked an epiphany in me.

The penultimate song concludes with Aaron Burr shooting and killing Alexander Hamilton in a duel. Burr sings, “Now, I’m the villain in your history,” a thought that is reinforced in the very next and final song of the play when Washington sings,

Let me tell you what I wish I’d known,

When I was young and dreamed of glory,

You have no control,

Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?

How History Remembers Those Who Make An Impact

It is said that history is written by the winners. The sentiment expressed in Burr and Washington’s words applies to all great men and women who were, at least for a certain period after they died, remembered as heroes or villains based on which side was telling the story.

It is only when enough time has passed that we can retrospect the event with the dispassion of an outside observer.

I’m pretty sure the first American settlers who slaughtered the native population, first through warfare and then by inadvertently spreading disease, were recognized as heroes for centuries. It is only in the last 100 years that the prevalent sentiment in America has changed enough to examine the historical narrative of manifest destiny with skepticism.

What was “woke” for a previous generation is now just basic human decency.

How does this relate to the epiphany I promised in the beginning?

While the broad strokes of history are recounted in books, classrooms, courts of law, and political institutions, our mind frames the many people we meet in our lives as positive or negative based on our interactions with them.

It is not surprising that we remember people based on the effect of their actions on us. It is just a part of the human experience.

However, the surprising part, and here is where the realization set in, is the disparity between what we perceive people will remember us by and the actual memories they have of us.

Let me explain.

My Self Image

I have worked hard for the last 10 years to be a successful indie game developer. I have made dozens of games that have been released at some time or other, both free and paid, through various accounts on Itch.io, Steam, and GameJolt.

For those who follow me online, that is my identity — a game developer. For strangers who meet me once or twice and become an acquaintance, my profession is most likely the one thing, I think, they will remember me by. It is the most interesting thing about me because the road I’ve taken is off the beaten path. I assume, then, that my work and the careful image that I’ve cultivated of myself is how they will think of me.

However, with Washington and Burr’s words in the musical, I realized something that broke this narrative. I applied the same assumption to my own experiences with people and how I remember them. And it all fell apart.

I don’t remember people by their greatest achievements or lowest moments. Most often, the memories I have of people are forged in the mundane.

Let me share an anecdote from my life to explain what I mean.

The Moment Of Clarity

There was a boy I went to school with who was good at studies and sports. He was quiet, reserved, and mature for his age. We respected him for being an all-rounder. He was not a part of my friend circle, so he didn’t cross my mind much after I finished school.

We had a chance encounter one day, years later, when we were applying to colleges after passing the state’s engineering entrance exam. He was lamenting not scoring high enough on the test while comparing his scores to everyone else’s.

Turns out, I scored very well on the test. He pointed at me and derisively said, “Even he scored more than me,” implying that he didn’t expect me to do so.

I was offended. It had been several years since we had last known each other. I also wasn’t a slouch in school either. His assumption confused and hurt me. I didn’t know what to say and let it go at that moment but, as you can tell from the fact that I’m writing about it more than a decade later, I still haven’t gotten over it.

Here was someone who had a preconception that was hurtful and was, on top of it, arrogant enough to voice it out loud. I always thought that I had made enough of a good impression on my peers in school for anyone to doubt how I was able to achieve a high score on the entrance exam. However, with that interaction, it was clear that it was not the case.

He probably remembered me for some stupid mistake I made in the past — some fleeting moment that left my consciousness right after it happened. And, to return the favor, the image that I had of him, a kind and mature person who weighed his words wisely, was forever tainted.

Closing Words

When Washington sings, “Who lives, who dies, who tells your story,” we can apply the same lesson at an interpersonal level.

If you ever get a chance to meet all 8 billion people in the world, they will each create an entirely unique memory of you. Everyone will take away something different — a memory that is influenced by their preconceived notions of the world around them. Some will remember you by your profession, some will remember you for your one-of-a-kind mannerisms, some people will instantly judge you based on the color of your skin, some people will judge the way you are dressed, some will remember you by the moment you hurt them, and some will forever cherish you due to one small kind gesture you did to lift them up.

They say you can’t make everyone happy. To that, I say, if you flip it around, you also have something very precious that no one else but you can offer.