To any nonwhite person: “Where are you from?”
To an Asian: “Are you good at math?”
To an African-American: “Do you want to play football when you grow up?”
In the United States, minority groups are often asked these types of questions known as micro-aggressions. A micro-aggression is defined as a subtle but offensive comment or action directed at a minority or other nondominant group that is often unintentional or unconsciously reinforces a stereotype. Though not as traumatizing as blatant displays of racism, micro-aggressions can oftentimes be tiring and hurtful when one experiences many of them on a daily basis. As our society becomes increasingly diverse and connected, many people have become outspoken about their experiences with micro-aggressions to raise more awareness about preventing them. In her short story “Jumping Monkey Hill,” Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie focuses on the stereotypes and micro-aggressions that native Africans experience. Adichie chronicles the fictional experiences of African writers at a writing workshop. The writing workshop takes place in South Africa at a resort called “Jumping Monkey Hill.” Beyond providing the namesake of the resort and short story, “Jumping Monkey Hill” exposes the stereotypes that portray native Africans as a primitive people.
Throughout the short story, Adichie explores the false perceptions of Africa that Edward, the workshop organizer, believes to be true. Immediately, she characterizes Jumping Monkey Hill as “the kind of place where she [Ujunwa] imagined affluent foreign tourists would dart around taking pictures of lizards and then return home still mostly unaware that there were more black people than red-capped lizards in South Africa” (95). Through this setting, Adichie describes people who are more interested in confirming their existing notions of Africa–a primitive place of pure wilderness and safari–than actually learning about Africa and its people. Adichie seems to assume that the reader also has these preexisting notions and, without hesitation, shows them to be untrue, for she states how tourists “return home still mostly unaware that there were more black people than red-capped lizards.” This action starts to break down the reader’s own perceptions of Africa, and he or she begins to become critical of characters in the story who maintain these stereotypes. Edward is the epitome of someone who holds onto his own perceptions and he patronizes those whom he deems to not understand Africa the way he does. This is first demonstrated at one of the dinners at the workshop. When Ujunwa, the protagonist, is skeptical of eating ostrich–she is not sure that people ate ostrich–Edward “laughs good-naturedly and says that of course ostrich was an African staple” (101). The phrase “of course” contributes to Edward’s arrogant attitude and it is ironic that Edward, a European, tells Ujunwa, a native Nigerian, what foods are African staples. Moreover, his ignorance is revealed through the fact that he makes general statements about Africa as a whole rather than recognizing the regional and cultural differences of the African continent.
Edward further reveals his ignorance and feigned interest in Africa when he critiques the Senegalese woman’s short story about coming out to her parents. Her story is entirely nonfiction, yet Edward does not believe it to be plausible. He states how “homosexual stories of this sort were not reflective of Africa” and how he does not speak “as an Oxford-trained Africanist, but as one who is keen on the real Africa and not the imposing of Western ideas on African venues” (108). Adichie makes it clear that Edward only wants literature that reinforces African stereotypes. He still maintains an “us-versus-them” attitude, and holds that Africans are entirely different from the rest of world. He fails to recognize that the Africans he interacts with on a daily basis are no different than their “Western” counterparts, and even asks “how African is it for a person to tell her family that she is homosexual” (108). Through Edward, Adichie exposes those who see Africa not as a modern world but rather as testament to primitive human behavior.
Adichie additionally expresses the frustration that Africans–and perhaps other minority groups–feel when they experience these micro-aggressions and similar comments. Ujunwa is constantly made angry by Edward’s comments, and asks to her fellow writers, “Why do we always say nothing?” (112). Although this question was in response to Edward’s suggestive comments to Ujunwa, it still applies to every other offensive statement that she and others witness. Adichie shows how frustrating it is to experience a micro-aggression because one often cannot speak out against micro-aggressions, as they are made by someone who “means well.”
“Jumping Monkey Hill” is fittingly ironic for the title of the short story. It serves to reinforce the stereotypes of primitive African culture, but at the same time, those who stay at Jumping Monkey Hill are hardly simple jumping monkeys.
To an Asian: “Are you good at math?”
To an African-American: “Do you want to play football when you grow up?”
In the United States, minority groups are often asked these types of questions known as micro-aggressions. A micro-aggression is defined as a subtle but offensive comment or action directed at a minority or other nondominant group that is often unintentional or unconsciously reinforces a stereotype. Though not as traumatizing as blatant displays of racism, micro-aggressions can oftentimes be tiring and hurtful when one experiences many of them on a daily basis. As our society becomes increasingly diverse and connected, many people have become outspoken about their experiences with micro-aggressions to raise more awareness about preventing them. In her short story “Jumping Monkey Hill,” Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie focuses on the stereotypes and micro-aggressions that native Africans experience. Adichie chronicles the fictional experiences of African writers at a writing workshop. The writing workshop takes place in South Africa at a resort called “Jumping Monkey Hill.” Beyond providing the namesake of the resort and short story, “Jumping Monkey Hill” exposes the stereotypes that portray native Africans as a primitive people.
Throughout the short story, Adichie explores the false perceptions of Africa that Edward, the workshop organizer, believes to be true. Immediately, she characterizes Jumping Monkey Hill as “the kind of place where she [Ujunwa] imagined affluent foreign tourists would dart around taking pictures of lizards and then return home still mostly unaware that there were more black people than red-capped lizards in South Africa” (95). Through this setting, Adichie describes people who are more interested in confirming their existing notions of Africa–a primitive place of pure wilderness and safari–than actually learning about Africa and its people. Adichie seems to assume that the reader also has these preexisting notions and, without hesitation, shows them to be untrue, for she states how tourists “return home still mostly unaware that there were more black people than red-capped lizards.” This action starts to break down the reader’s own perceptions of Africa, and he or she begins to become critical of characters in the story who maintain these stereotypes. Edward is the epitome of someone who holds onto his own perceptions and he patronizes those whom he deems to not understand Africa the way he does. This is first demonstrated at one of the dinners at the workshop. When Ujunwa, the protagonist, is skeptical of eating ostrich–she is not sure that people ate ostrich–Edward “laughs good-naturedly and says that of course ostrich was an African staple” (101). The phrase “of course” contributes to Edward’s arrogant attitude and it is ironic that Edward, a European, tells Ujunwa, a native Nigerian, what foods are African staples. Moreover, his ignorance is revealed through the fact that he makes general statements about Africa as a whole rather than recognizing the regional and cultural differences of the African continent.
Edward further reveals his ignorance and feigned interest in Africa when he critiques the Senegalese woman’s short story about coming out to her parents. Her story is entirely nonfiction, yet Edward does not believe it to be plausible. He states how “homosexual stories of this sort were not reflective of Africa” and how he does not speak “as an Oxford-trained Africanist, but as one who is keen on the real Africa and not the imposing of Western ideas on African venues” (108). Adichie makes it clear that Edward only wants literature that reinforces African stereotypes. He still maintains an “us-versus-them” attitude, and holds that Africans are entirely different from the rest of world. He fails to recognize that the Africans he interacts with on a daily basis are no different than their “Western” counterparts, and even asks “how African is it for a person to tell her family that she is homosexual” (108). Through Edward, Adichie exposes those who see Africa not as a modern world but rather as testament to primitive human behavior.
Adichie additionally expresses the frustration that Africans–and perhaps other minority groups–feel when they experience these micro-aggressions and similar comments. Ujunwa is constantly made angry by Edward’s comments, and asks to her fellow writers, “Why do we always say nothing?” (112). Although this question was in response to Edward’s suggestive comments to Ujunwa, it still applies to every other offensive statement that she and others witness. Adichie shows how frustrating it is to experience a micro-aggression because one often cannot speak out against micro-aggressions, as they are made by someone who “means well.”
“Jumping Monkey Hill” is fittingly ironic for the title of the short story. It serves to reinforce the stereotypes of primitive African culture, but at the same time, those who stay at Jumping Monkey Hill are hardly simple jumping monkeys.
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