Page 4 - Reflections on the Danger of a Single Story

In her TED Talk, Chimamanda Adichie explores the damage of what can happen in the telling and believing in a single story. She discusses her own childhood beliefs of created stigmas bred from literature that featured “white and blue-eyed” youngsters who “played in the snow...ate apples, and...talked a lot about the weather”. Similarly, while attending university in America, her roommate’s narrow view of Adichie’s Nigerian homelife and culture was probably also born out of limited and often stereotyped characters seen in literature and beyond. Regardless of roots, color, language, or any other factor, these “single stories” that instill people with a particular vision of a group of people can be harmful not only to the individual but also to all societies.
To the eye, I am a light-haired, light-eyed, light-skinned woman. I tell you that I was predominantly educated in Queens, New York, followed by a high school career in upstate, suburban Brewster, New York. You meet my mother--a petite, milky-skinned, brunette with green eyes; my stepfather (who I will ultimately introduce as my “dad”)--a tall caucasian man also with light features; and my three brothers--two blonde, one brunette, all with a similar stature, although one may appear to look a little more like me, because while the other two are step-brothers (which I also will not differentiate), he is my blood. You may immediately assume a middle class, suburban upbringing of an all-caucasian family, and I won’t correct you because I am not privy to the private thoughts and assumptions created when you look at me. What you won’t know is that my father, and therefore half of my bloodline, is Jamaican.
I can recall so many moments of what Nella Larson refers to as “passing”, or being a biracial with the privilege of appearing more “white” in a world where that equates to power. Growing up, no matter how much I could mesh in with those that looked like me, I still often felt confused at where I belonged. This was only intensified spending summers with my dark-skinned dad in a neighborhood where my lighter complexion was without a doubt, the absolute minority, and where I could not “pass” so obviously. In both places, and both worlds, so many assumptions were made about me before I could open my mouth. In my mom’s world, peers were intrigued--had I ever been to Jamaica? Did my dad make jerk chicken when I visited? In my dad’s world, I didn’t belong--you don’t listen to rap, do you? You sound “white”, are you really his daughter? In my own worlds, people had not only one, but two “single stories” about me, who I was, what I liked, what I celebrated, and where I belonged.
It’s interesting to me that I have lived my whole existence trying to find this balance between these stories, for myself, and that I still could be naive enough to find myself sometimes creating and believing in the single story of another. Although that doesn’t always mean that what I attach is negative, it is still limiting, and does not paint a picture of a whole person or group of people. Adjusting our personal inner narratives and assumptions is pivotal to our success as teachers of an ELL population. It’s equally important to make sure that we consistently show students many different representations of their own individuality and cultures through literature, successful icons, images, etc. in addition to a vast and varied set of images and stories of others, so that they may not so easily fall victim to or be victims of a single story.
RYAN ESPEUT