“I only became black when I came to America” says Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche’s protagonist, Ifemelu, of her latest novel Americanah (2014). This line stuck with me long after putting down this incredible book, which brought to light some of the complexities of race.
Adiche has made multiple headlines in recent years with her unapologetic approach to race and gender issues, namely ignorance surrounding those issues. Most recently was her clapback to a French interviewer asking if libraries existed in Nigeria. So, it is inevitable that this same unapologetic attitude would appear in her writing, particularly so in Americanah.
As a woman of colour myself, a lot of my time, perhaps more than I would like, is spent contemplating what race means to me. At first, this line had me caught up with the question of what people mean when they say race is an invention. However, after some contemplation, I found a new query was born, and I started to consider maybe a more complex question: what does it do to you when you are made aware of your race everyday of your life?
The novel tells the tale of Ifemelu and Obinze, a young couple in Nigeria, who spend much of their teenage years viewing the English-speaking West (the US and the UK) with rose coloured glasses. They, Obinze especially, are enamored by the prospect of going to America someday, though it ends up being Ifemelu who ends up moving to complete a university degree in the States.
Prior to her move to America, Ifemelu is just Ifemelu: a young, confident, stubborn, intelligent and sometimes rebellious girl growing into herself. However, when she moves to America she is suddenly a black immigrant woman with an accent and name difficult to pronounce. Everything about her identity is about what is immediately observable and not learnable over time.
At one point Ifemelu admits that “race was not embroidered in the fabric of her history; it had not been etched on her soul” because of her upbringing in Nigeria. As the earlier quote demonstrates, being black had never been a part of her identity, the issue of her race was only added once she arrived in America. This is precisely the danger of being made aware of one’s race day in and day out. It becomes engrained into one’s identity.
While this is not necessarily a bad thing, it is a troubling indication of the state of Western society. Embracing race can be incredibly empowering. However, to be viewed first and foremost by the colour of one’s skin is a dishearteningly dehumanising experience. On the other hand, being denied the recognition of your race when it plays so intimately into your world view because you are constantly aware of it can feel extremely distressing.
Race, and with it racism, as a concept comes to being through its history. In North America, South America, Australasia and much of Europe, its history is tragic and violent. I’m sure everyone has heard about, if not heard firsthand, someone saying that they “do not see colour”. The issue with this is that in most societies where racial diversity is present, not seeing colour is incredibly problematic because it usually means one of three things: 1) You are willfully or unknowingly ignorant of the racial inequalities around you, 2) You refuse to recognize the role race can play in the identity of people of colour, or 3) You feel you can be “colourblind” because race as a concept does not apply to you, you are confident in your lack of race that everyone else who does not look like you becomes their race.
All this to simply say that being faced with one’s race all the time is exhausting, and yet at times inescapable. It also leaves us feeling as if it is a no-win situation. It is this no-win situation precisely that Americanah explores and makes the novel such a wonderfully complex unpacking of race.
So, how to achieve a balance?
In 2009, Adiche gave a TedTalk titled the “Danger of the Single Story”. The concept has become one of Adiche’s major goals throughout working to ensure more than a single story is told, and is highly apparent in Americanah. In the TedTalk she argues how a single story of a situation can give way to majorly false understandings that dictate the way you address said situation. For example, thinking that all immigrant Africans in America are the same is something that Ifemelu encounters time and time again.
When Ifemelu is dating Curt, a rich, white man who seems to understand her and the issues she faces as a black woman, who she is racially is also very much part of her appeal to Curt. So much so that her race (and in some ways, Curt’s lack of race) becomes an important foundation in their relationship. However, Ifemelu states that black woman dating white men “don’t talk about [race]. We don’t even tell our white partners the small things that piss us off and the things we wish they understood better, because we’re worried they will say we’re overreacting, or we’re being too sensitive.” The undercurrent of fear is always present when talking about race to those who do not see race as being an issue.
Perhaps it is unsurprising, then, when their relationship breaks down. Because the reality is that race as a concept is unstable, ruled by societal expectations and assumptions that have one performing their identity to seem separate from those assumptions. These include anywhere from accents, dress, education levels and personality traits.
However, when Ifemelu is dating Blaine, an American Black, race is once again a connecting factor, bringing them together as something to celebrate and bond over, specifically during Obama’s presidential campaign. Nevertheless, it overlooks the fact that Ifemelu is not an American Black, a category she differentiates throughout the novel. For example, she is unable to understand some of his opinions on race, purely because her experience as a Nigerian in America is so different. So much so, that at times Ifemelu offends her own circle of friends with her opinions. Adiche here plays with expectations and assumptions and demonstrates how even with her black boyfriend, Ifemelu is unable to talk about race just as she was with her white boyfriend.
What this all comes down to is that there is no single story of race, no more than there is a single racial identity. We noted this as well in an earlier post on Marvel’s The Black Panther. The complexity of race is inescapable, so let’s accept it. Let us embrace that there is no one answer, that we will all make mistakes, offend someone, and occasionally be on the wrong side of an argument because what we think we know about race does not apply to someone else’s reality.
What Americanah makes clear is that race must be spoken about. Though it might make some uncomfortable or alienated, race is not going anywhere, so we should be talking about it. Get offended, feel guilty, be indignant, but continue to talk, and more importantly, start listening to the other stories around you.
~ S ~
