The first time I heard of Americanah was in high school. My English Literature teachers spoke of it so highly that I thought it was some sort of classic. Their wide-eyed, hushed-toned conversations had an aura of respect and intellect, and I knew I had to read this book. I made a note somewhere to read it and promptly never heard of it again. Americanah resurfaced into my life when I received it as a gift from my father, and I instantly remembered my teacher, Ms. Piurek, with her ankle length, cheetah print skirt, comparing this to one of my favorites, The Bluest Eye. I was surprised when I realized that Ngozi Adichie’s book was published in 2013 –so not the old ‘classic’ I had originally pictured. Little did I know my mind was about to be blown.
I want to preface this book review/article with a statement. Racial issues in the US are very complex and I am only going to discuss the tip of the iceberg –this does not mean that there isn’t more to it, or that the rest is unimportant/uninteresting. If you disagree with something I have written, I encourage you to contact me: discussing our nation’s problems is the first step to solving them.
There are many books out there covering race and gender in the US but so far none of them have spoken to me like this one. The main character, Ifemelu, is Nigerian. Because I am bicultural, I strongly related to the outsider perspective used throughout. Yes, I know, I am not from Africa, but there are just some things in the US that the rest of the world doesn’t understand. Ifemelu comes to the US for university and creates a blog about being a non-American black in America. Ngozi Adichie, the author, captures a strange phenomenon unique to the US, the concept of blackness as we know it.
The most powerful quote in the book is one that I think about every day. Ngozi Adichie, as Ifemelu, writes: “I came from a country where race was not an issue; I did not think of myself as black and I only became black when I came to America. When you are black in America and you fall in love with a white person, race doesn’t matter when you’re alone together because it’s just you and your love. But the minute you step outside, race matters. But we don’t talk about it.”
This struck me. As I thought about it, I realized how true this was. In any other country, African blacks are represented by their nationality, not by their color. In France, people are from Burkina Faso or Burundi or Kenya, and they are not all associated because of color. I cannot make the absolute statement that in France there is no racism –this is simply untrue– but there are definitely more interracial couples than in the US. Blackness is not a concept in many Western countries the way it is in the US. It seems as if America has brushed slavery under the rug without actually fundamentally solving its consequences. Every day we hear about the progress that “has been made,” but if there are novels being published currently about the label of black that is unique to the US, then it’s not over, people. The progress has not fully been made. Why are there so few interracial couples here? You can’t say there is a cultural barrier; most black Americans are just that, American.
photo courtesy of the Wall Street Journal Public Resources
I found this concept of being black revolutionary for the first time. Ifemelu was labeled “black” without understanding any of the responsibilities that come with the label. In the US, many blacks are very outspoken about their blackness (rightfully so) and often because they have to be. They denounce anything from governmental policies to the choice of models in magazines. In Nigeria, Ifemelu’s home country, no one needed to constantly be proud because there was no injustice to battle, no racial supremacy to disable. So, Ifemelu was thrown into a group that expected her to cry out if a non-black said something that could offend her “race,” but she did not react because these injustices had not been committed against her, per se. She did not have the personal experiences of subconscious racism that black Americans witness every day. After many years studying America’s fragmented society, she begins to feel a sense of black pride and becomes active in Barack Obama’s presidential candidacy.
I have always wondered why African-American is the politically correct term for blacks in America. Most of those who carry this label are not from Africa, and their lineage has been in the US for a very long time. I ask myself if this is not offensive, creating a name as if all of these Americans are from somewhere else. Since I am not black, I cannot answer this question, and I urge anyone who has input on this topic to speak up. As someone who is automatically labeled as white privileged, and who is painstakingly trying to remove any obstacles to non-whites’ success, I will listen.