Throughout Adichie’s Americanah, readers observe a recurring motif: society separates with racial designations, accompanied by preconceived stereotypes. Through Adichie’s lens, readers watch as this ideology shapes the decisions and lived experiences of characters throughout the novel.
Arriving in America, Ifemelu quickly realizes that those around her see her as black without regard for her story. In Nigeria, “race was not an issue” and Ifemelu even remembers that she “did not think of myself as black and I only became black when I came to America” (Adichie 359). This new designation is accompanied by a litany of expectations, such as her aspirational boundaries, preconceived education, and professionalism. She is inherently different. In a world where a hierarchy emphasizes the white appearance and culture, even braids can be perceived as unprofessional (Adichie 146). Expectations cause Ifemelu to conform to society’s standards in hopes of minimizing this separation. She relaxes her hair, adopts an American accent, and limits speaking out on racial issues, starting to assimilate and conform. Adichie’s portrays Ifemelu as a well-educated, confident, headstrong woman--and even she succumbs to the societal pressures in hopes of being seen as an American instead of black or an immigrant, suggesting that without conformity, there is seemingly no chance of equal perception. Even outside of America, other blacks shape to fit a mold. Obinze, a capable, respected businessman in Nigeria relies on a white man he met in England, Nigel. On the advice of others, Nigel helps him see “how doors will open for you because you have an oyinbo General Manager” (Adichie 33). Once again, light skin comes with automatic assumption of prowess. In Adichie’s commentary on race, she establishes that with a skin color comes a specific designation, separating groups within society.
What’s more, these expectations are predetermined, even if an individual doesn’t fit the stereotype they might look like. For example, Ifemelu realizes that Dike will never autonomy in his identity. Instead, “what he was, [African American or American African,] would be chosen for him” (Adichie 173). Dike was born in Africa, but raised in America, and he likely has an interesting story to tell. Yet, he will be judged without any regard for these nuances. African lived experiences are quite different than African American lived experiences in the United States, but Dike’s perceived experience will be chosen for him. Furthermore, just for the color of his skin, he should expect to “be hyper-mellow, never get too excited, or somebody will worry that you’re about to pull a gun” (Adichie 274). Adichie makes these claims showing that despite upbringing nor experiences, race equates to a designation that is general for all. Being marked as black impacts Dike’s experience in America, where he is labeled as a violent child and treated differently by church officials.
Many blacks in the novel realize that even by trying to conform, equality didn’t often follow. The preconceived notions on race were engrained, and only when Obama was elected President did Ifemelu, Blain, Dike, and other blacks see a glimmer of hope: “I can’t believe it. My President is black like me” (Adichie 447). For with a black President elected, perhaps those lines of differentiation truly had a chance of disintegrating.
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