Sunday, October 29, 2017

Re: USA Africa Dialogue Series - Re: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, a Humanist On and Off the Page

Does asking if someone is married is sexism or racism. This is recolonizing the mind, not decolonizing it! What about providing answers to the question like you did! 




From: 'Biko Agozino' via USA Africa Dialogue Series <usaafricadialogue@googlegroups.com>
Sent: October 29, 2017 2:42 PM
To: usaafricadialogue@googlegroups.com
Subject: Re: USA Africa Dialogue Series - Re: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, a Humanist On and Off the Page
 
Oga Toyin

Yes. If a positive post carries assumptions of sexism or racism, then we should recast it in support of the decolonization of our minds. I recently forwarded a Ted talk video to a brother with a PhD in Economics. His response was that it would be a joy to imagine the speaker as his mother or wife. I recast his positive comment by suggesting that it will be even better to imagine her as a president, governor, minister or legislator. The married father of two sons agreed with me. Adichie found a similar question from a child to be prejudiced but adults think it is positive to maternalize her without reading her work when our approach to male authors is completely different.

Biko

--------------------------------------------
On Sun, 29/10/17, Toyin Falola <toyinfalola@austin.utexas.edu> wrote:

 Subject: Re: USA Africa Dialogue Series - Re: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, a Humanist On and Off the Page
 To: "usaafricadialogue@googlegroups.com" <usaafricadialogue@googlegroups.com>
 Date: Sunday, 29 October, 2017, 10:01
 
 Biko:
 Is there a reason to recast a positive
 post into a negative one?
 TF
 
 On 10/29/17, 8:48 AM, "'Biko Agozino'
 via USA Africa Dialogue Series" <usaafricadialogue@googlegroups.com>
 wrote:
 
     Akwasi, if you had read
 the story you would not have asked that question for Adichie
 had answered it when a Ghanain student in New York asked her
 how she could combine motherhood and her work. She answered
 that the young man should promise her that when he met a
 young father he would ask him how he combined fatherhood and
 his work. You got a signed copy of her book but your comment
 does not show that you have read any of her books.
 Seriously?
    
     Biko
    
    
 --------------------------------------------
     On Sun, 29/10/17,
 Assensoh, Akwasi B. <aassenso@indiana.edu>
 wrote:
    
      Subject: USA Africa
 Dialogue Series - Re: Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, a Humanist
 On and Off the Page
      To: "dialogue" <usaafricadialogue@googlegroups.com>
      Cc: "anthony.a.akinola@gmail.com"
 <anthony.a.akinola@gmail.com>,
 "Doyin Coker-Kolo" <doyinck@gmail.com>,
 "Dawn" <dmwhiteh@gmail.com>,
 "Kanko, Cynthia" <ckanko@indiana.edu>,
 "Philip Aka" <philip_aka@hotmail.com>,
 "afaugustine@yahoo.com"
 <afaugustine@yahoo.com>,
 "Afoaku, Oyibo Helisita" <oafoaku@indiana.edu>,
 "Afoaku, Osita" <osafoaku@indiana.edu>
      Date: Sunday, 29
 October, 2017, 8:46
     
     
      SIR Toyin:
     
     
     
     
     
      I am yet to go through
 my copy of THE NEW YORK TIMES to
      clip and save the story
 about our beloved Sister Adichie,
      who has now joined -- at
 a comparatively youngish age
      -- what Mwalimu (Nana)
 Ali A. Mazrui would easily
      have described as "an
 exclusive club":
       Public
 Intellectuals Network! Professor Mazrui, of course,
      was one of them!
 Therefore, thank you very much for running
      ahead with the very
 enticing Dialogue posting below.
     
     
     
      In fact, when our Oregon
 campus brought writer Adichie to
      a public event, soon
 after Professor Achebe joined our
      distinguished ancestors,
 she looked very young, very
      brilliant and ready to
 be someone's bride (or as her
      fellow feminists would
 say, ready for
       her to take a
 groom)! Most certainly, she made all of us,
      originally from the
 beleaguered continent, proud that
      night; her tribuite to
 Professor Chinua Achebe was profound
      and majestic. Also, we
 were happy that she signed one of
      her wonderful books for
 our
       family that night.
 
     
     
     
      We have heard that our
 famous Nigerian sister got
      "hooked". So, who is the
 lucky or blessed man: a
      Nigerian (or an African)
 Physician or a foreign Physician?
      That is my important
 question!
     
     
     
     
     
      A.B. Assensoh.
     
     
     
     
      From:
      usaafricadialogue@googlegroups.com
      <usaafricadialogue@googlegroups.com>
 on behalf of
      Toyin Falola <toyinfalola@austin.utexas.edu>
     
      Sent: Saturday, October
 28, 2017 11:28 AM
     
      To: dialogue
     
      Subject: USA Africa
 Dialogue Series - Chimamanda
      Ngozi Adichie, a
 Humanist On and Off the Page
      
     
     
     
      From The New York
      Times:
      
      Chimamanda Ngozi
 Adichie, a
      Humanist On and Off the
 Page
      
      She is the rare novelist
 to become
      a public intellectual
 — as well as a defining voice on
      race and gender for the
 digital age.
      
      https://nam04.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.nytimes.com%2F2017%2F10%2F16%2Ft-magazine%2Fchimamanda-ngozi-adichie.html%3Fmwrsm%3DEmail&data=02%7C01%7Ckaparry%40hotmail.com%7C93c1496739d34169d40a08d51edf8bd6%7C84df9e7fe9f640afb435aaaaaaaaaaaa%7C1%7C0%7C636448867821357930&sdata=L6beBpz9sC5%2FehZQn0DijVjAxPJBH38p0ilZFh0iyz8%3D&reserved=0
      
      
      
      Cover Photo
     
      Adichie, photographed in
 the style
      of Carrie Mae Weems's
 1990 "The Kitchen Table Series."
      Oscar de la Renta dress,
 $2,190,
      saks.com. Antique
 earrings, $8,750, kentshire.com. Credit
      Carrie Mae Weems. Styled
 by Malina Joseph Gilchrist
     
      Chimamanda Ngozi
     
      Adichie, a Humanist
     
      On and Off the Page
      She is the rare novelist
 to become
      a public intellectual
 — as
     
      well as a defining
      voice on race and gender
 for the digital age.
      By DAVE EGGERSOCT. 16,
 2017
     
     
      Continue
      reading the main story
 Share This Page
     
      ShareTweetEmailMoreSave
      This story is one of the
 seven
      covers of
     
      T Magazine's Greats
 issue, on newsstands Oct.
      22.
      NOT LONG AGO, Chimamanda
 Ngozi
      Adichie stood in front
 of a small class of literature
      students at Cardozo high
 school in Washington, D.C. Over the
      last few years,
 Adichie's books have appeared on thousands
       of
 required-reading lists — more or less every American
      student between 14 and
 22 has been assigned her
      work.
      While introducing her,
 Dr. Frazier
      O'Leary, the class's
 soft-spoken teacher, mentioned that
      Adichie had visited at
 the school a few years before, and
      that between that visit
 and this one, Adichie had had a
       daughter, now 23
 months old. Then he ceded the floor to
      Adichie. She stood
 before the 20-odd students, her
      fingertips on the
 podium, and swept her almond eyes around
      the room.
      "So, what should we
 talk
      about?" she asked. In
 front of an audience, Adichie speaks
      with great precision,
 measuring every word, her
      Nigerian-British accent
 sounding to American ears both
      opulent and daunting.
      No one raised their
      hand.
      Adichie was wearing a
 T-shirt that
      read, in glittering
 letters, "We Should All Be
      Feminists," and she
 carried a Christian Dior bag that bore
      the same message, both
 inspired by her
     
      2012 TEDx Talk, which
 has been viewed over four million
      times. The students had
 been assigned to read Adichie's
      essay based on the talk,
 and thus it was dispiriting when
      the first question came
 from a young man, originally from
      Ghana, who very
 politely
       asked how Adichie
 was balancing her work with the
      responsibilities of
 motherhood.
      Continue
      reading the main story
     
      Related Coverage
     
     
      'Janelle
      Asked to the Bedroom,'
 a Micronovel by Chimamanda Ngozi
      Adichie OCT.
       20, 2017
      
     
     
      To
      the First Lady, With
 Love OCT. 17, 2016
     
      
      T's
      Oct. 22 Greats Issue
     
      About
       Last Night: T
 Magazine Celebrates the Greats OCT 20
     
      
     
      Watch
       Kids Sing Stephen
 Sondheim at T's Greats Party OCT 20
     
      
     
      'Janelle
       Asked to the
 Bedroom,' a Micronovel by Chimamanda Ngozi
      Adichie OCT 20
      
     
      Dries
      Van Noten
       Captures His World
 — in Polaroid OCT 19
     
      
     
      10
       Famous People on
 Stephen Sondheim OCT 18
     
      
      See
      More »
      ADVERTISEMENT
      Continue
      reading the main story
     
      She looked down and
 smiled. She
      took her time, and then,
 with her chin still lowered, she
      raised her eyes to look
 kindly at the student.
      "I'm going to answer
 your
      question," she said,
 "but you have to promise me that
      the next time you meet a
 new father, you ask him how he's
      balancing his work and
 the responsibilities of
      fatherhood."
      The young man shrugged.
 Adichie,
      who is 40, smiled warmly
 at him, but thereafter, the class,
      already intimidated and
 shy, grew only more so.
      "Why don't I read a
 bit?"
      she said finally, and
 she did.
      Photo
     
      Prada dress, $3,610,
 (212) 334-8888.
      Pilar Olaverri earrings,
 $300, pilarolaverri.com.
      Paul Andrew shoes, $645,
 net-a-porter.com.
      Credit Carrie Mae Weems.
 Styled by Malina Joseph Gilchrist
     
      AFTERWARD, ADICHIE and I
 sat at a
      restaurant in Columbia
 Heights. "He was quite sanguine,
      wasn't he?" she said
 about the young man she'd
      carefully corrected.
 "Maybe he's young enough that he
      hasn't been
 indoctrinated
       into the cult of
 how and when to take offense. He can still
      look at the merits of an
 argument. Either that, or he was
      looking pleasantly at me
 and thinking, 'Bitch, go
      away.' "
      Adichie looks with a
 gimlet eye at
      American liberal
 doctrine, preferring open and frank debate
      to the narrow
 constraints of approved messaging. Though she
      is considered a global
 icon of feminism, she has,
       on occasion,
 displeased progressive sects when she's
      expressed her beliefs
 about gender with candor and without
      using the latest
 terminology.
      "It's a
 cannibalistic
      ethos," she says about
 the American left. "It swiftly,
      gleefully, brutally eats
 its own. There is such a quick
      assumption of ill will
 and an increasing sanctimony and
      humorlessness that
       can often seem
 inhumane. It's almost as if the humanity
      of people gets lost and
 what matters is that you abide to
      every single rule in the
 handbook of American liberal
      orthodoxy."
      The day was not warm,
 but we
      ordered lemonade.
 Moments later, the waiter said they needed
      our table for a large
 party. We moved into a corner and the
      waiter forgot about us
 completely. Which seemed improbable,
       with Adichie's
 glittering bag on the table serving as a
      kind of tabletop
 lighthouse.
      "I'll have you
 know," she
      said, "that this bag
 was designed by Maria Grazia Chiuri,
      the first woman creative
 director at Dior. A very
      interesting person. When
 she proposed the T-shirt, she sent
      me a handwritten
       note."
      I asked if Dior planned
 to make
      merchandise for every
 one of her books. Maybe a necklace
      that said "The Thing
 Around Your Neck"? A sconce that
      said "Half of a Yellow
 Sun"? Adichie laughed her
      distinctive laugh,
       which overtakes
 her whole torso but sounds like the giggle
      of a teenager. I should
 note here that I've known Adichie
      for about 10 years now,
 and she has always been startlingly
      easy to make laugh, and
 one of her very favorite subjects
      for ridicule is the
 exalted
       reputation of
 Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.
      She grew up in an
      upper-middle-class home,
 the fifth of six children. Her
      father was a professor
 at the University of Nigeria, her
      mother was the
 university's registrar — the first woman
      to hold that post.
       Her parents
 expected Chimamanda to be a doctor, and for a
      year she studied
 medicine at university, but her heart
      wasn't in it.
      "When I said I wanted
 to write,
      they were very
 supportive, which was very unusual," she
      said. "Nobody just
 leaves medical school, especially given
      it's fiercely
 competitive to get in. But I had a sister
      who
       was a doctor,
 another who was a pharmacist, a brother who
      was an engineer. So my
 parents already had sensible children
      who would be able to
 make an actual living, and I think they
      felt comfortable
 sacrificing their one strange
      child."
      Adichie was just 26 when
 she
      published her first
 novel, "Purple
      Hibiscus," in 2003. It
 won the Commonwealth Writers'
      Prize for Best First
 Book.
       Her second,
 2006's "Half
      of a Yellow Sun," was
 a shimmering work of historical
      fiction that reminded
 the world of the Biafran War and made
      it deeply
       personal; it won
 the Orange Broadband Prize for Fiction
      (now called the Baileys
 Women's Prize for Fiction) and
      garnered comparisons to
 one of her heroes, Chinua Achebe.
      The next year, she won a
 MacArthur grant and found time to
      finish a master's
 degree in
       African studies at
 Yale. "The
      Thing Around Your
 Neck," her first collection of
      stories, was published
 in 2009, followed by 2013's "Americanah,"
       an intimate and
 accessible multigenerational story about
      family and immigration
 set in Nigeria and New Jersey. It won
      the National Book
 Critics Circle Award and has become an
      enduring best seller.
 While the majority of her previous
      work had been tightly
 controlled
       and gravely
 serious, "Americanah" was loose and
      irreverent.
      "I decided with that
 book that I
      was going to have fun,
 and if nobody read it, that would be
      fine," she said. "I
 was free of the burden of research
      necessary for the other
 books. I was no longer the dutiful
       daughter of
 literature."
      In "Americanah,"
 the
      protagonist, a Nigerian
 woman named Ifemelu, moves to New
      Jersey and is first
 confused and then amused by the cultural
      differences between
 African-Americans and Africans living in
      America.
       Ifemelu decides to
 explore the subject in a blog called
      Raceteenth or Various
 Observations About American Blacks
      (Those Formerly Known as
 Negroes) by a Non-American Black.
      Through the blog,
 Adichie was able to speak with disarming
      forthrightness about
 life
       as an African
 living in America: "I was tired of everyone
      saying that when you
 write about race in America, it has to
      be nuanced, it has to be
 subtle, it has to be this and
      that."
      The directness of the
 blog, I
      suggested, seemed to
 provide a bridge to her TEDx Talk,
      which became a book,
 which became a T-shirt and a
      bag.
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      "Yes and no," she
 said. "But
      I'll allow your
 thesis." She laughed her
      laugh.
      Now there is a follow-up
 called
      "Dear
      Ijeawele,
       or a Feminist
 Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions."
      Asked by a friend, a new
 mother, for advice in making her
      daughter Chizalum a
 feminist, Adichie wrote another (very
      direct, lucid) work.
 Suggestion No. 1 reads, "Be a full
      person. Motherhood is a
 glorious
       gift, but do not
 define yourself solely by motherhood."
      No. 8: "Teach her to
 reject likability. Her job is not to
      make herself likable,
 her job is to be her full self, a self
      that is honest and aware
 of the equal humanity of other
      people." And No. 15:
 "Teach
       her about
 difference. Make difference ordinary. Make
      difference normal. Teach
 her not to attach value to
      difference."
      The reaction to these
 manifestoes
      among a reading public
 longing for probity and directness
      has been profound. In a
 San Francisco auditorium last year,
      I witnessed Adichie step
 onto the stage in front of almost
       3,000 people —
 the average age of the audience was about
      20. She wore
 ankara-patterned pants and a white blouse and
      stood on four-inch
 heels, and the audience response was
      euphoric.
      "It's not that I
 told people
      something they don't
 know, it's just that I did it in
      language that was more
 accessible." She looked around the
      restaurant. "But I
 don't think we're ever going to get
      our lemonade."
      ADICHIE AND HER HUSBAND,
 a
      physician, spend half of
 each year in Maryland, and the
      other half in Lagos,
 where they have a home and where her
      extended family lives.
      In Nigeria, Adichie is
 considered
      a national icon, not
 only because her books have garnered
      such acclaim, but
 because quickly after her success she
      founded the Farafina
 Trust Creative Writing Workshop, a
      program
       where aspiring
 Nigerian writers spend a few weeks every
      year workshopping with
 Adichie and a coterie of
      international writers
 she brings to Lagos. She invited me to
      teach there in 2009, and
 I got the chance to meet her family
      and friends, all of whom
 were
       supportive, kind,
 funny, devoted — it was all sickeningly
      perfect.
      One night, it became the
 obsession
      of one of the guest
 lecturers, the Kenyan writer Binyavanga
      Wainaina, to bring
 Adichie to one of Lagos's seamier
      nightspots. He asked her
 where that would be. She had no
       idea. "I'm a
 nice middle-class girl," she said,
      laughing. "I don't
 know about such places." She was
      serious, though. She did
 not know.
      So we called Adichie's
 childhood
      friend Chuma. He
 suggested Obalende, a district of Lagos
      known for its nightclubs
 and strip clubs. Chuma picked us up
      and drove us to a
 neighborhood where fish and plantains
       were fried on the
 street, where the air was swampy with
      weed. He chose a club
 with a slanted roof of corrugated
      steel and Fela bursting
 from the sound system. We sat
      outside on a humid
 night, Adichie game but wide-eyed. We
      were visited by a street
 musician
       who would not
 leave. Adichie requested Fela's "Unknown
      Soldier" and he played
 it, and we stayed late, and most of
      us got tipsy — even
 Adichie; she had one drink — and at
      the end of the night, I
 was the only one fit to drive, which
      I did, which everyone
 thought
       very funny,
 especially when we were pulled over by a
      traffic cop, who wanted
 a bribe. I did what I always do in
      that situation, which
 was to act like the world's dumbest
      tourist, and it worked.
 He let us go, and Adichie, in the
      back seat, laughed all
 the way
       home.
     
      Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
 is
      featured on one of the
 covers of T's Oct. 22 Greats
      issue.
     
      See
      the other six covers
     
      A FEW MONTHS after her
 appearance
      at Cardozo high school,
 Adichie was on a rooftop in downtown
      D.C. It was breezy and
 the sky threatened rain. She had
      agreed to attend a book
 release party celebrating a
      collection
       of essays called
 "Having to Tell Your Mother Is the
      Hardest Part," written
 by D.C. public school students,
      with guidance from
 tutors from 826DC, a nonprofit youth
      writing organization
 with which I'm affiliated.
      A tent had been set up,
 and
      cocktails were served,
 and a young African-American man
      stepped to the podium.
 He was delicately built for 15,
      wearing a
 mustard-colored button-down, a tie and
      thick-framed glasses.
      "When I was 2 years
 old, my mom
      and dad passed away,"
 the boy, whose name was Edwyn, read.
      "I was in and out of
 foster homes and was never in really
      good care. The way I
 used to grieve was by not eating or
       by fighting, and I
 always got in trouble. I would get angry
      whenever someone said,
 'Yo mama.' I felt like I wanted
      to hurt someone. I have
 gotten past that, and now, I want to
      take my meds so I can
 grow emotionally and become a better
      me. I decided to try
       group vigils where
 I can talk about my loss, but it has
      never helped. I refused
 to share until, one time, I broke
      down and shared
 everything."
      The audience on the
 rooftop stood
      spellbound. I looked
 over to Adichie. Her eyes were wet.
      Edwyn continued. In a
 group home, he said, he almost stabbed
      another boy. He almost
 flunked out of school. Finally,
       he was adopted by
 a loving family who moved him to
      Washington. "I was
 starting to mature," he read. "I
      started to change. Now
 I'm in the 10th grade, writing
      about how I used to
 grieve, but I am happy with the family I
      am with."
      His essay ended like
 that, and he
      sat down with the
 unaffected attitude of a student who had
      just read a paper about
 meiosis or the Louisiana Purchase.
      Afterward, we approached
 Edwyn, who was now surrounded
       by admirers. He
 shook Adichie's hand like a cocktail
      party veteran, telling
 her he'd heard a lot about her and
      was happy she was
 there.
      "I thought you were
 very
      brave," Adichie said
 evenly.
      Word of Adichie's
 presence on
      the roof began making
 its way through the attendees. Another
      student, a gregarious
 young woman named Monae, approached.
      "I didn't know you
 were here!" she said. "You were
      the
       one in
 Beyoncé's song!" (A few years ago, Beyoncé
      sampled parts of
 Adichie's "We Should All Be
      Feminists" talk in her
 2013 song
      "Flawless.")
      "You have to read what
 I
      wrote!" Monae said,
 and gave Adichie a copy of "Having
      to Tell Your Mother Is
 the Hardest Part," opened to a
      spread bearing her
 smiling face and her essay, titled
      "Queen."
      We made our way to a
 quiet part of
      the rooftop and watched
 the adults swarm the
      student-writers, getting
 their books signed.
      "That is lovely,"
 Adichie
      said. "Just
 lovely."
      After the party, we said
 goodbye
      on the corner of
 Pennsylvania and 17th. Adichie's parents
      were in town, visiting
 from Nigeria, and she had to get back
      to Maryland.
      "That boy," she
 said, and
      sighed. She was still
 thinking about Edwyn. "There was
      something so clean and
 pure and true about his writing,
      don't you think?
 Increasingly I find that that's the
      kind of thing I
       want to read."
      Click
      here to download the
 cover.
     
     
     
      Set design by Carin
 Scheve at Brydges Mackinney. Hair by
      Jinn for R+Co. Makeup by
 Joanna Simkin at The Wall Group.
      Washington, D.C.
 production by Anne Calamuci/Photogroup.
      Photographer's
 assistant: James Wang. Stylist's
      assistant: Angela Koh
      A version of this
 article appears
      in print on October 22,
 2017, on Page M2156 of T Magazine
      with the headline:
 Chimanada Ngozi Adichie.
      Today's
      Paper|Subscribe
     
      
     
     
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