A loaded statement, this is, as it is one coming from a Nigerian; an
Igbo girl. Nonetheless, it is exactly
the way I used to feel, before my family relocated back to the States from
Nigeria. Until I left the confines of my
father country, declaring me as an African person seemed to be a factor of
redundancy- a statement of the obvious.
It was obvious that I was African; just as it was obvious that I was
black or that I was a girl. These facts
were so obvious that I had the luxury of never having to consciously think
about them. What needed to be reinforced
to the world, were primarily my father’s
name, as the weight of it, in Igbo culture lies heavily on ones shoulders, and my
education, in that, Nigerians place education at the foreground of importance,
right after religion, respect, and family duty.
When we moved back to the US, I quickly realized that not only was I now
“African”, and that I singlehandedly was constantly expected to represent a
billion people, but also, that being virtually anything other than “that
African girl” was considered an upgraded existence. I have had a countless number of people
believe that they were complimenting me by their reassurance that I didn’t look
‘African”. Some would wonder about my
last name, but upon seeing or hearing me, and then subsequently discovering
that I was in fact Nigerian, I would receive a range of responses from:
“Oh wow! You’re African??”
“I thought you were just ‘regular’ black”.
“Oh! So, THAT explains your features!”
Ultimately, the catch-all response that I undoubtedly always receive
is, “Well, you don’t look it”.
I’ve often been hit with conflicting emotions wavering between shame
that somehow, I didn’t have readily identifiably African features, whatever
they were, and pleasure that I was in a sense, disrupting the status quo, and
dispelling the myth of what it means to look African.
Ten or even twenty years ago,
identifying as the African kid was the uncoolest
thing anyone could claim. It was
something to hide, and if hiding it proved to be impossible, then distancing
yourself from all things African was apropos.
As a smart and quiet kid who stayed out of trouble and obeyed the rules,
I was already virtually invisible in school, however, latch on the fact that I
was all those things plus African,
and all of a sudden, there was something a bit more interesting or peculiar
about me. I remember an instance when a
teacher told me that he just knew I was African because of my “big
features”. I also remember cringing
inwardly as he emphatically stressed that my African look basically boiled down
to my full lips. That day, as I sat in
his classroom, I fiercely wished that I could be the complete opposite of what
he thought was the African look. I
wanted to be thinner lipped and lighter skinned, solely to force him to
recognize that his so-called African look, as dominating as the idea was, was a
fallacy.
Whenever the African phenotype is mentioned, the
stock image is usually the stereotypically flat description of dark skin, full
lips and backsides, wide noses, and highly textured hair. To delve into the misconception even further,
let’s lay out all the cards and attach “poor”, “dirty”, “backwards” and
“starving” to the description. People
seem to find it difficult to reconcile the notion that there are just as many
people who might look this way, as there are people throughout the continent
who don’t, but still identify as African, and that these people also fall into
all levels of social status. It is irritatingly
amusing when we allow ourselves to mindlessly gorge on misinformation dispensed
by myths and media, and we continue to
dismiss people for not fitting a narrow margin of the supposed African
look.
Shouldn’t it go without mention that different people identify as
African, and that the current categories should be expanded? However, common sense ideas often seem to be
the hardest to understand or implement. For
instance, with a country like Nigeria, which is an arbitrary amalgamation of hundreds
of ethnicities from Fulani to Igbo, facial features and body types vary
incredibly. If we step outside of
Nigeria, we can examine the Sudan- the largest country on the continent, where both
supermodel Alek Wek and famous musician Mohammed Wardi hail from. They look amazingly different, and yet, by
looking at them, I imagine uninformed people would assume only Alek as the
“pure African”. None of these regions
are homogenous, and prevailing features run the gamut from the deepest to the
fairest of complexions. Let’s continue
to extrapolate that example and apply it to Africans in the diaspora,
basically, accounting for all people of African descent. We can
include Colombians to Canadians, Americans to Argentinians- (at least, those who
readily claim their African-ness) ; people who are a definite mixed bag of
backgrounds, and now, all of a sudden, that catch-all African phenotype begins
to dissolve.
The African look is a
multi-dimensional one, and we shouldn’t rely entirely on the media to provide accurate
information. However, we should
constantly challenge ourselves to think outside the proverbial box and to
question ourselves, because in doing so, we can expand our familiarities, and
in turn, challenge the status quo.
I can so relate. I am not African born however, I was treated the same way you were because I was dark skin. So people automatically thought I was from African and honestly when I was younger I dreaded people thinking that. Even today many African men come up to me and ask me if I'm African or what African country am I from and when I tell im American but my family if from Jamaica they are shocked. If you was a light skin African you wouldnt have any of these issues. The fact that you are a dark African plays a huge part in it. I've learned to embrass it. Clearly these people who mock us dont know history and I'm at the point where I dont have the patience to teach them so I let them stay Ignorant.
ReplyDeleteOh, I totally embrace myself. Wait, that didn't come out right. Lol, I LOVE everything African.
DeleteI just find a certain strain of laziness that arises when people talk about us. They lump us together, which honestly reveals a level of dismissal and disrespect:
You're not important enough for me to care about what/who you are. Yep, my tolerance is very low with any sort of willful ignorance.
Very interesting post. Stereotypes are a hell of a thing. The best thing we can do is to be proud of whatever features we have and where we come from. I think full lips are awesome, btw. Reading this made me think, perhaps looking at a varied and diverse people such as Africans as a monolith with one look might be an inheritance of racist philosophy because what better way to dehumanize a people and look down upon them than to make them seem all of one kind.
ReplyDeletePreach! I TOTALLY agree w you. In addition, all of us are affected by the philosophy because nobody exists in a vacuum.
DeleteSome of us are just aware of it, but a lot of us, (black/white, etc), carry on every day without questioning anything- racist origins and all.
"Oh you don't look haïtian", my response is "what do haïtians look like?"
ReplyDeleteThank you. Precisely!!
DeleteVery well written. I hope a lot of people see this post!
ReplyDeleteThank you! Me too. You would think it wouldn't be relevant anymore today, but people are stubborn.
DeleteSO I just found you blog this week and finally got to this post. It's sad that in this day and age we still face stereotypes like this but I think it's important for people who experience this to get their story out there like you have.
ReplyDeleteI don't know when the stereotypes will end, I suppose a few thousand years from now when we're all one big mixed race.
I myself have had similar experiences with people from different races assuming I'm not African American. "But, you're so well-spoken," they say. "But, where's your southern accent, they say (I live in Florida and by southern I think they really want to say 'ghetto')." Um, well excuse the hell out of me--for being me!
Hmmm, totally agree. I was shocked at the response this post elicited in people, but then again I wasn't.
DeleteI kinda wish it wouldn't take all of us being one big mixed raced before we all accept one another, because it means that any sort of difference we see in eachother will always be threatening. And, if not skin color or features, it really could be a lot of other things.
Lol @ southern really being ghetto. Smh. It's like they can't reconcile why you look or sound the way you do. Since you're black, you must do this THIS way. Smh. It's tiresome.
Thanks for stopping by btw! :-)