Dear Editor,
I wish to share an aspect of the work done at the University of Guyana in this public space. I was tasked in an English class last semester to watch a video and write my opinion. When I first started looking at the TED talk clip, I saw it as fairly simple. However, when I processed the message, my perspective changed. It was no longer a simple letter. It became a call for me to look inside of myself and confront what I knew I ought to deal with but what I was refusing to acknowledge. This is a chance to release some of what burdens me, to pen what it is that plagues not only me but society at large.
Before I looked at the video, I had visited the female penitentiary with my Social Work class. That experience was so breath-taking that I wish to experience it again. I wish for all to experience it. It was breath-taking because it was not what I expected. I expected to go there and confirm the stereotypes that revolve around the prison.
However, the warm welcome of the inmates changed my perspective. The way they interacted with us and with each other showed a sisterhood that I never expected to find in such an environment. I entered there a nervous young woman, wanting to get it over with. I left there with more than just a new-found understanding, I left there with clarity. My eyes opened once the single story I knew became much more.
This was before the profound words of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, the Nigerian author resonated within me. Our assignment for English class was to view her video, “The Danger of a Single Story” and to write her a letter. I was deeply moved by her speech.
Ms. Adichie spoke about how the stories we read present us with a way of seeing the world that becomes reality for us. She also reminded us that dominant stories exist because of the power relations at work in the world. I immediately felt a connection to her. I could recall myself as a young teen being introduced to an app called Wattpad and reading fiction that spoke about trains and winters, silky hair and pale skin. I remember wanting to publish my own pieces of fiction and not doing so because I was not used to what I thought the majority of readers were accustomed to. If I wrote about my rowdy bus parks, packed with market vendors, fast food restaurants, boutiques and government buildings, that story might sound odd to my readers. They might not read because they might not relate.
Now, in retrospect, I wonder: Since I had read what I couldn’t relate to, why couldn’t they? Maybe because their reality is a dream for me, one that I sated through their words, through the screen of my phone as I spent hours and hours indulging in their books. On the other hand, my reality might be one they have no interest in. My love for writing, however didn’t die. Instead, I focused on poetry. I love to say that poetry is the language of the heart and soul. For me it is. Any form of writing lifts a weight from my chest, but with poetry I have no pressure to stick to a plot or relate to my readers. I just wrote. No characters, no setting, no plot just my thoughts. And it became my escape. It was a judgement free zone.
Ms. Adichie also spoke about how single stories can cause people to form hasty judgements about one another. I’m surprised at myself that I .hadn’t come to the realisation sooner of how much I had a single story about women in prison before I visited the prison. Then I discovered that the women there are singers, actresses, poets, hairdressers and craftswomen. They are human. They are no different from me or you. They just have different stories, different experiences and have made different decisions.
I choose to be understanding. Maybe one day my words will aid someone in removing their single story lens as Chimamanda Adichie’s words did for me.
Yours faithfully,
Shania Baird,
Social Work class
University of Guyana
