Single Story

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie coined the term single story, of which she says, "The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story."

In her TED talk she recounts her experience of shock upon seeing a family create something beautiful because all she had ever heard of that family was that they were poor. Being poor wasn't their only characteristic, and yet she shows how that being the only thing she knew created a holistic idea of them which she then lived out of. It's a great TED talk, and I highly recommend looking it up. 

We all have single stories we have created about people, places, groups, etc. In fact, we have many. I was scrolling through Facebook and found one of mine that I'd shared a few years ago, and I thought I'd share it here too . . . 

 

One thing I always knew growing up is that I wasn’t drawn to Africa. It was never even a question but a default. Of course, that statement intrinsically implied missions. That’s the only way we related to Africa. It wasn’t a culture or a continent made up of various countries (all with their own culture); it was a mission field. And yes, everywhere is a mission field and should be treated as such, but that’s not all anywhere is. And for so much of my life that is what Africa has been reduced to. Distended stomachs, shaved heads, pleading eyes. That’s the image the church in the United States and other organizations seeking to do good painted. And it was always a picture of need. A need for the basic necessities of life. A need for the gospel. A need for us to come and save them. And I never felt a call to that Africa; only the occasional guilt for not feeling a call there.  

 

And honestly, I didn't think much of Africa during my lifetime beyond the occasional call for missions, the commercials on TV, or Egypt, which actually had a culture and a history I learned in school and was never relegated to a place of need.

But then I was researching black lives and history in America, and even before God prompted me to research Africa beyond its ties to slavery—beyond the people kidnapped from their culture or even the impact that had on Africa—God helped me to see the single story the Church has not only been complicit in shaping but active in forming and reinforcing. The most I ever heard about Africa growing up was through Christian sources, and it was only ever a picture of need. 

 

A friend of mine once told me that she could never do missions because she idolized toilets, and I never thought twice about it. It sounds silly, but as someone with IBS, it wasn't a joke. It was a real confession of a barrier she wasn't sure she could give to God. And I got it. But as I've gotten older, I've recognized the false image we've painted of the mission field. First, by too often making it outside and other instead of in our own backyard but also by making it unrecognizable to us. Missions were always to places without technology; it wasn't directly stated, but it's the only image we ever saw. And people in Africa and beyond are still dealing with the questions our story cultivated.* How do you get wifi/plumbing/electricity/any modern technology really in Africa? Does everyone live in huts in Africa? Do you have water in Africa? We've fueled that; the Western Church has been complicit in that. And it doesn't matter if our intentions were good if our damage is real.

 

Even unsolicited mail from a nonprofit asking for aid for what I assume is a good cause sought that aid through the same way we often seek missionaries: by manipulating emotions. But those manipulations have consequences. For missionaries it can mean putting people out in the field who were not called to it and cannot sustain it. But even a letter I read in my home and throw in the trash carries consequences. The language of “war torn”, “violence ravaged,” “horror”—that doesn’t end up in a vacuum; it creates a story that we hold onto even subconsciously. And the admonition that we’re “their only hope” has a whole other slew of problems, fueling not only the single story about Africa but also our own arrogance that we are savior and superior. But that soap box could take me all day. Point is that I was never drawn to this Africa. Not in the least bit. 

 

But then I started learning about Africa. Seeing the beauty, the culture, the values, the differences between Sub-Saharan and Northern Africa as well as those between different cultures. And this is the Africa I’m drawn to. I was never interested in the Africa that I was meant to improve, but I’m enthralled by the Africa that I can learn from. And I never would’ve known it. And that shows not only the power but the importance of how we shape stories. We create narratives that shut down our hearts and remove us from connection. Different angles to the same place can create myriad reactions because our hearts are all called in different ways. That’s part of what makes sharing the whole story important. Some people are called to under resourced communities in Africa that fit the narrative we’ve been told, and that can be beautiful (as it can in any community in the world, including our own). But we can’t let that be limiting. We can’t let that be our only story. 

 

And especially as Christians we need to push beyond these stereotypes not only because we’re responsible for shaping so much of that story but also because it creates a barrier to peer discipleship and community with our brothers and sisters in Africa. It places American Christians as the teacher, the mentor, the one doing the discipling, but rarely goes as far as to acknowledge the value we can gain and lessons we can learn through those types of relationships let alone how we can be discipled too. 

 

A place I’ve spent most of my life having no connection to is the very place I’m most excited to see on my Instagram feed, and it all starts with a story. And the story we got growing up in the United States was of a place of poverty, a place that needed our help more than anywhere else, a place that we could only go to for missions and not because it’s a place of beauty. The Africa of desperation never appealed to me but the individual cultures do. The ways of valuing community and faith create a longing for more in my heart and a juxtaposition to some of the values in my more individualistic country. Only when I changed the angle of my education did my heart draw into it. 

 

 

*Charity Ekezie is a great comedian working to answer these stereotypes with truth and humor. I've loved watching her show the world the Africa we don't see, and I definitely recommend her videos. But then I started watching Aketch Joy Winnie, and I realized how complex the issue we've helped create is. Because we haven't just told the world that everyone in Africa lives in huts; we've also told them that huts are bad. That huts are a symbol of poverty, not of ingenuity or practicality or beauty. Aketch Joy Winnie also makes videos breaking down single stories of Africa, but as a woman with a deep love for her rural, Ugandan community, she goes beyond that. She works to show her audience the beauty, the creativity, the culture behind the very lifestyles and practices that the Western world has deemed lesser. To show us that they are not a lack of progress but a treasured way of life.

I’ve come back to the idea of narratives a lot, and the single story provides such rich analysis for understanding them. It’s one thing to move beyond a narrative you’ve been fed, but it’s another thing entirely to go back and acknowledge that narrative, see how it was formed, and see how it’s still being used.

 

This isn’t a commentary on Africa. This isn’t a plea to see the value the individual countries and cultures bring to our world (though we should). This is an example. An example of the damage a single story can do. It can turn specific truths into broad lies, it can bar us from community, cultural exchange, interest, it can seat us in a place of arrogance and ignorance, it can do so much. So be careful with the stories you tell. Be careful with the stories you receive and the ones you share. It’s not just about the details, but the overarching story that’s shaped though them. We’re all more than a single story.

My Sociology professor once asked us, "Where do you hold a single story?" I ask that question of you now. Do not be ashamed but be aware. See the consequences, break down the lies, enter the truth.