Revisiting Adichie's "danger of a single story" leading up to the U.S. elections
Repost from July 18, 2024
I'm reflecting on Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's 2009 TEDGlobal talk "the danger of a single story," which warns audiences of the violent consequences of failing to consult multiple stories and perspectives on diverse cultures and circumstances. It is a powerful speech that reminds us of all the "truths" and "beliefs" that we take for granted... the notion that the status quo exists because "that's just how things are done" or "that's how it's always been." Adichie's speech is also relevant in light of the upcoming U.S. elections in 2024, which have already been marred by attacks from and on both sides of the aisle. Recently, Donald Trump announced his selection for vice president; he is set to accept the republican nomination this evening, a few days after he survived a shooting during a campaign event. Meanwhile, Joe Biden tested positive for Covid-19 and is on the receiving end of pleas by democratic colleagues to drop out of the race.
Amidst these political developments in the summer before the November elections, there are dominant narratives circulating that unfortunately claim to be "the single story" of U.S. politics. It is a story that has become increasingly chaotic and dangerous regardless of one's political affiliation. As Adichie argues, "the consequence of a single story is this: it robs people of dignity" (13:46). Today, I believe this practice of embracing single stories and its consequences is our reality.
Like so many people, I tend to spend my time with family and like-minded people. I don't go out of my way to listen to or entertain conservative U.S. political or religious perspectives, and because of this, I miss the stories that are being embraced by those who preach them. Instead, I lean into my assumptions based on "single stories" by critical and progressive thinkers.
The reason why I appreciate Adichie's talk now is because I am fearful of the U.S. empire's future and what that means for the future of the Lāhui Hawaiʻi. I am fearful of the weight of this election on international relations for humanitarian aid. To me, Adichie's talk is not so much a message of hope but a critical strategy to understand multiple perspectives and to avoid oppressing others through a dismissal of human dignity. This, too, is an Indigenous practice. Makawalu (lit. eight eyes) discourse encourages educators and students to dialogue and to consider alternative ideas and beliefs. It calls for active listening and discussion before arriving a solution to a problem. In this instance, makawalu discourse may be a crucial way for Indigenous Peoples to invoke their cultural ways of knowing and being to enact political change.
While I am skeptical that engaging with multiple stories will fully change deeply-seated worldviews — mainly because I doubt that reading about and listening to conservative views will sway me to their cause — I do believe it will give us a fuller picture of the diverse realities at play and the true nature of dominant and subordinate perspectives in U.S. politics. Adichie's talk ends with her realization that by rejecting single stories, "we regain a kind of paradise" (18:20). I argue that such a rejection could open a way for criticality and determination to reclaim dignity in spaces that seek to rob us of it.