Stereotypes In Literature

“It is easy to romanticize poverty, to see poor people as inherently lacking agency and will. It is easy to strip them of human dignity, to reduce them to objects of pity” (Chimamanda Adichie). My life, thus far, has truly been a unique work of literature. Unique enough as to where it can be divided into two separate books, for I have experienced both extremes of socioeconomic status. And with every piece of literature, comes those who form a concrete judgment by simply looking at the cover. This seemingly benign, in-the-moment act is something we, as humans, adopted into our societies long ago. Through habitual use of inadequate conclusions, the “single story” was born. Stereotypes and the reputation that once defined and confined my family

I hoped that my dad would be nicer, but his violence took that hope and teased me with it like a dog with a treat. I hoped to have dinner every night, but being sent to bed with a concaving stomach ate that hope. This cycle of great hope and even greater disappointment completely silenced my emotions and sense of reality. I then viewed my entity and environment as it was - plain and simple: my mom, who spends most of her time crying on the couch, Corona in hand, is in an abusive marriage with my alcoholic father, who is in-and-out of jail for everything imaginable. We live in a small, beat-up house in Hilltop, Tacoma, a neighborhood notorious for gang violence, drugs, and shootings. Right now, my mother is trying to save money so she can file for bankruptcy, which I find to be ironic. We are on food stamps, and received our clothes and shoes through church donations. As a child in mental shock, I gave myself a “single

From extreme poverty to the lavish life I have now, I have had countless stories break my family. My “single story” was being poor in every way possible. I am not, and never was, upset by this degrading assumption; the “single story” itself isn’t what upsets me. My rage comes from the danger of all “single stories”, which is the idea that humans are incapable of change and growth because they are viewed for one part of who they are, through a lens of pessimism. By not considering change and growth as a possibility, people who create “single stories” are deeming humans to be incapable of both. Until we are able to see others without exploiting their flaws and repressing their potential, our world will never change or grow together in unity. The true danger is all of us living in a monochrome imagination, dulled by the word