On Zucchini, Portals, Scaffolding, and the Great Gift of Unlearning

In the middle of third grade my family moved from a suburb of Detroit to a rural town an hour away. On my first awkward day as The New Girl, I stood in the cafeteria line and stared at a poster, a painting by Giuseppe Arcimboldo, a portrait of a man with a zucchini nose, peas for teeth, and eyelids made of tiny figs. I was horrified. I barely caught the caption, “You Are What You Eat.” Today I understand: every cell in our body is comprised of the food, air, and water we consume, which is distilled into parts and built again into blood, bones, muscle, fat, a beating heart, a stomach that breaks down food to begin the cycle again. Likewise, with reading.

Everything I’ve read—each book, story, poem, essay—has fed my mind and helped shape my perspective of the world. Childhood reading instilled a love of language and books, and provided a portal out of that tiny town. Reading was a key that opened infinite doors. I could enter the lives of other people, some who might look, think, and behave differently than me. Reading taught me to care and understand. Without it, who would I be?

One story that’s changed me is Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Americanah. In it, a Nigerian college student, Ifemelu, moves to the US and learns what it means to be Black in America. In Nigeria there’s no concept of race; people identify with their ethnic tribe, like Hausa, Igbo, or Yoruba. Throughout the novel, Ifemelu is confronted by America’s racial stereotypes, the distinction some people make between African-Americans and African immigrants who they consider the “good” Blacks, and the ignorant attitudes of even well-intentioned whites.

Reading Americanah, I recognized my behaviors in some characters, like the liberal white folks who don’t understand the difference between their intentions and impact. Or those who say they’re color-blind, ignoring the experiences of People of Color living in a racialized society. And on and on. Stories can snake into the backdoors of our brain in ways nonfiction cannot.

I learned race is a social construct that has been taught. Which means it can be un-taught. Though I didn’t know it at the time, Americanah set me on a path of anti-racist study. For nearly two years, I’ve participated in an anti-racism book group. I’m taking a six-month anti-racism course. I’m reading more fiction, nonfiction, and poetry, and attending virtual talks, by writers of color. I’m working to recognize and eliminate my biases.

Science says our cells are constantly growing, dying, and being replaced. Every seven years we have a brand-new body, a replica of the old. More nutritious food builds healthier cells. Likewise, with reading. By feeding our minds a diet of diverse stories, the characters, feelings, and turns of phrases can strengthen our brain’s scaffolding. We can change our thoughts and expand our understanding of others, both people who feel familiar and those from whom we have much to learn and unlearn.