Rabbi Akiva used to say that he learned a great deal from his teachers and colleagues, but even more from his students. Taking this principle a step further, one could say that he learns a great deal from his own children...
This afternoon my eldest son, Shlomo, was drawing on a white sheet of paper, practicing his letters and numbers, when, on his own initiative/out of rebellion, he decided to draw on the other side of the paper (not where the exercises were). Then he held up the paper and gestured for me to look at the drawing he had made. But I couldn't see anything... 'What drawing?' I asked him. 'This one!' and he showed me the same paper... but I still couldn't see anything...
Then I realized the glare was preventing me from seeing, so I laid the paper flat on the table and saw the drawing of a man with a smile. Very good. And what do we learn from this?
Sometimes contrast is important to identify an object. Without contrast, the white paper makes it impossible to see the drawing on it.
The same applies to us in the diasporic exile we live in: if we are all the same, if there is no contrast, then it is very difficult to identify who we are, what we are.
One of the key points for preserving identity is understanding that one is different from others. In every aspect: a human being, an individual with rights and obligations, an inhabitant of the earth, of a country, of a society, etc. Of course, this doesn't have to have negative connotations; it simply highlights one's own identity and that of others.
If we want to preserve and strengthen our Jewish identity, we must understand and accept that we are different. Neither better nor worse. Just different. And we must learn about this, delve deeper, and explore the book that describes who we are—the Torah.