What’s your first name...I mean, your real African first name?

I’ve recently been thinking about stereotypes and how they are perpetuated by single stories. The kinds of stories that are based on singular perspectives. The famous novelist and speaker, Chimamanda Adichie, in her TED talk points out that the danger of a single story is that it creates a definitive version of the person(s) about whom the story is told.

It reminds me of a recent experience from a few years back when I needed a haircut. My hair had grown out over several weeks and I was starting to barely recognize myself in the mirror. My barber, who knows the different haircut variations that make me look presentable and somewhat stylish, was out of town for a few weeks. I thought my hair could wait until he got back from his trip, but my hair just wasn’t having it.

I decided to look up some barber shops close to home and give one of them a try. After all, it was just a simple haircut. Nothing too fancy. So, I found a nice barber shop with high Google ratings, lots of reviews, and excellent prices. What more would I be looking for?

As luck would have it, there was a barber available right when I walked in. As he prepared for the haircut, he asked me for my haircut preferences, which I explained. The barber happened to be an older African American man, and right after he got into the haircut came the familiar question.

“Where are you from, brother?”

“Uganda” I said.

“Nice. I didn’t get your name.” he said.

“Oh, it’s Timothy.” I responded.

“Oh! No, what’s your first name...I mean, your real African first name?” he asked.

For a second, I thought he was joking. So I joked about how my parents must have been in love with the name Timothy or something. Maybe one of their favorite actors was named Timothy. Well, he didn’t budge.

"So, if you’re from Uganda, shouldn't you have an African first name?” he asked.

Then, I realized he was being serious. So I explained that Uganda was a former British colony and most Ugandans have English first names. We had to learn the Queen’s language early on in life and a lot of the way of life in Uganda has been influenced by the British. Most of us also grow up learning both our families’ local languages alongside some level of English.

He just nodded and remained silent for the rest of the haircut. I wasn’t sure if he was processing what I’d just said or if it was some other reaction. Regardless, it was a good haircut. Even more thought-provoking conversation.

Driving home that day, I thought about the influence of stereotypes on our perspectives and understanding of the world. How they affect our interactions with people. Most of all, I realized how much power stereotypes hold.

Having lived in Uganda until I moved to the United States for college, I learned to read, write, and speak English from parents and teachers who spoke with Ugandan accents. As such, people can probably tell right away that I did not grow up in the US, based on my accent.

While this isn’t necessarily an issue, I believe we all have a need to be understood when we communicate. When I had just moved to the U.S., I was frequently asked where I was from. I could tell it was probably from my accent. This question is actually a great conversation starter. I came to realize that many of the people who asked this question were actually genuinely interested in learning something about me. And as I had conversations with people, I also learned more about them.

Although a person’s accent can inspire curiosity about that person’s background, it can also perpetuate a single story or provide an opportunity to create new stories.

Think about the last time you heard someone speak with an accent that is different from yours. Did you create questions in your mind? Maybe wondering where the person is from, if it doesn’t seem obvious from the accent. Or maybe trying to connect the accent to the person’s appearance. Perhaps it’s none of these things, and you don’t give much thought to the accent.

Most immigrants in the US, whether first- or second-generation, could share experiences about stereotypes and microaggressions, particularly with regard to accents. I’ve heard of friends and family members who were told they spoke such great English. Or sounded exotic. Or sounded smarter than expected.

In all these experiences, a single story was challenged, creating a new story with a different perspective. Unless challenged, therefore, the single story remains powerful . We are all ignorant to some degree about someone else’s culture or personal experience and cannot claim to understand what we do not know. Conversations in which new stories are created are a great way to challenge stereotypes.

As Adichie mentioned in her TED talk, the power of the narrative lies in the hands of the storyteller. If singular narratives can be broken down to create new stories from different perspectives, maybe we have a chance to challenge stereotypes.