Africa Is a Continent and Other Crazy True Facts

Hey there!! I’m all snuggled in under my blankets on this cold rainy day with some popcorn and hot tea after a long week of school. It’s getting more and more difficult to post regularly as time flies faster and faster. Even so, I am working hard to stick to my at least once a month posting. So here we go. Sending love and all the warmth to my pals in the North as winter quickly approaches here!

I’ve come across several stereotypes and perceptions of Makgowa (White people) as well as Americans while living in Limpopo. While seeking to understand where these assumptions come from and also educate people about the diversity of the US, I was simultaneously struck with my own stereotypes and the assumptions of the people I work and live with every day. Thank you Lord for the healthy dose of humility keeping me from thinking I have it all figured out. Because I don’t. I very much am a part of this complicated, messy, single story fixation too. My hope is that as you read, you will learn something you didn’t know before and we can all, South Africans and Americans alike, become more culturally competent and kind human beings.

A few weeks ago, I was walking home with one of the grade 4 learners at my school named Kamogelo. Once silence fell after the typical small talk, she looked up at me. I could see a question burning deep inside her little noggin. I smiled and then she quietly asked, “Ma’am, In America you live in a palace?” My immediate response would have been to laugh and deny this preposterous idea, but I didn’t. Instead I opted for my favourite teacher tactic and answered her question with a questions, “Why do you think I have a palace in America?” As we continued our walk and talk a few things became clear about Kamogelo’s idea of White Americans.

1. White skin means fat wallets. Kamogelo was convinced that because I was White and from America, I must have A LOT of money. (I wish!)

2. Being American means you know celebrities. She was shocked to find that I had never met Rhianna, Beyonce, or any famous person for that matter.

3. White skin is beautiful and desirable. And on the flip side, Black skin is not. This young girl complimented my “beautiful” skin not because it’s actually nice (tbh I never recovered from my first acne break out in fifth grade), but because it is white.

Now obviously we didn’t deconstruct all of these deep internalised perceptions in this one walk home. But I do hope it started something as she struggled to reconcile my story of living in a tiny apartment with 5 other people; having a red, bumpy, uneven complexion; and surviving on a small stipend as a Peace Corps Volunteer with her previous ideas of White Americans. Of course I don’t blame her for having these perceptions. The limited information and contact she has with Americans and White people would lead any logical 9-year-old to the same conclusions. But I do hope the disequilibrium jump started some accommodation of her schemas of both Americans and of White people (Just throwing in a little Piaget for all you developmental nerdz out there).

Kamogelo isn’t the only person with these assumptions. You might be laughing as you read some of these stereotypes knowing that there are ridiculously incorrect, but the truth is we all do the same thing. I’m just like her, kids in America are just like her, and I’m guessing you, my faithful reader, have some incomplete ideas of certain people in this world too. Here is one example of what I’m talking about. The number of times I’ve gotten the question “How’s Africa, Caitlin?” and other slight variations is greater than the number of wandering chickens I saw today on my way to school…and that’s a lot of chickens. Now the questions isn’t incorrect. I am in Africa. But if I asked you, “What’s up in North America?” your brain would take a second and ponder why I just referred to the entire continent on which you live. My reaction to “How’s Africa?” is pretty similar. Africa is a giant continent full of 54 unique countries and countless diverse cultures. Even within the rainbow nation of South Africa, I am experiencing and learning about a sliver of the cultures and history of the people here. So to be honest, I don’t know how Africa is. It’s too big, complex, and just outrageous for me to speak of the wellbeing of an entire continent. I barely even know how I am doing most of the time! And again with that humility check, I have to catch myself when I’m making a simple social media post with taglines like “When in Africa…” because that too can reinforce the single story we tend to project on the entire continent.

Let’s try something. Quickly close your eyes and picture Africa. what do you see?

No really. Do it. Close your eyes and think for a second before you read on.

……………………………SHUT EM!

Okay, I might be way off, but chances are you saw some wild animals roaming, starving children, under-developed infrastructure, or perhaps some sort of traditional tribal clothing. If you want a really honest answer to that experiment, ask a little one in your life to tell you what they know about Africa. I can guarantee it will reflect some of these same single story narratives. Too often we over simplify and box in those who are different from us. Many times this comes from a simple lack of information. As Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie said in her famous TedTalk The Danger of A Single Story “…the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.” Further. “The consequence of the single story is this: It robs people of dignity. It makes our recognition of our equal humanity difficult. It emphasises how we are different rather than how we are similar.” I think we can all agree that that doesn’t sound like the people we want to be. Thankfully, it is something we each have the power to change in our own lives.

So, let's change. I challenge all of us to intentionally seek out information about what’s happening in other parts of the world, not just Africa, as we try to break apart our single story of anything unfamiliar. Meet people who are different from you. Really different from you. Teach your little ones. The more we genuinely encounter those who are different from us, the sooner we can realise the silliness and sometimes danger in our assumptions based on one thing like the continent someone is from or the colour of someone’s skin.

If you have never heard Chimamanda’s Ted Talk. Listening to it is a great way to begin dismantling your single stories of other people and instead begin to build bridges and grow in not only acknowledging of our differences, but genuine finding gratitude and beauty in them. Secondly, I want to acknowledge that this blog is just one story: my story. I will do my best to share the complexities of my experience, but at the end of the day it is still only one side. Like the warning says at the bottom of my site, “While I hope my posts inform and challenge those who read them, please remember this is just one small piece of a nation sized puzzle. I can in no way accurately represent the diverse cultures and experiences of ALL South Africans or ALL Peace Corps Volunteers. I’ll try to steer clear of generalisations and simply share my own personal stories from this awesome adventure.” So what that means is, reading what I put here isn’t enough. You need to find more people, more stories, more perspectives. One of the greatest things about life is that there is always more to learn and discover. Embrace that.

Let’s keep learning and growing so we don’t let the Single Story Syndrome control us and even worse, impact all of those around us. Listen to stories. Share your story. There is not one single story, but there is unique beauty in every single one.

Love,

Caitlin

(*1.2 Billion people)