Stereotypes: The Danger Of A Single Story

In the world we live in now it has become easy to stereotype and create a single story about certain people and situations, whether it’s intentional or not. In 2009, a Nigerian novelist named Chimamanda Adichie gave an amazing TED talk called “The Danger of the Single Story”. A single story more or less means an incomplete or inaccurate viewpoint of a person or culture based on a story created from a single experience. When one hears the same story over and over again, we start believing only that story. Adichie claims that creating single stories is problematic and rely on power, a single story I decided to present is how people believe police officers are abusing their power, and I believe the media is at fault. For one to truly understand a story we must listen to the root of the story. Her speech made me realize and view things differently.

The single story is about how a people stereotypes one another based on what they learned through books, media, people, and other sources. For example, Chimamnda announced how she viewed Mexicans as immigrants and them trying to get through the borders, but the moment she stepped foot into Mexico the perspective she got from other sources changed everything. She was ashamed of herself because when she visit the view was completely different because what she saw was happiness, love, and fun. The single story is an image that is created based upon information that was given, but not on your own perspective. In other words, it is the truth to the reality. For example, when people hear of Niagara everyone think of land, poor, Africa, homeless,

On a daily bases people make excuses for everything. Everything meaning our actions and the things that we say. Common things that we make excuse for deal with sexist, racist, and heterosexist comments. Sexist is classified as saying that one sex is better than the other. An example of this is someone calling a male or female something that they are not. I do not like this because we are all humans and deserve to be respected and not called something that is degrading. We all know that racist is downgrading one race compared to another. An example of this is, saying that all black people are loud and ghetto. We all act the same but some people do certain things different from others. That’s just there way of living. I do not think that just because one person acts one way the whole race does also. Heterosexist is defined as heterosexuality is better than all other expressions. An example of this would be talking about how a guy dresses and calling him gay. I do not agree with this as well because it is good to stand out and be your own person not matter how others see you.

With the roadblocks in Callie's adoption it's been a long couple of months, but she was finally getting adopted tomorrow. The whole family couldn't wait for her to officially be a Adams-Foster.

Anyway, going back to when we were kids, sometimes Ken would babysit me and Maddie. He was 14 at the time and no one knew then how unstable he was, my parents thought that they could trust him. The first time that he crossed the line we were outside playing. It was a cold day in December, I'll always remember that because I was nervous about the upcoming Christmas pageant at school.

There was an old “CRT” TV, like the type that had littered the shelves of my brother’s pawn shop, hitched up against the corner of the convenience store I had just walked into. Although the image was blurry, I recognized immediately what was showing. I placed the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and walked in, my hands stuffed in the two pockets on either side of the sweatshirt. I cursed the fact that the sweatshirt had the words “Donovan’s Fight Club” in big, decorative cursive letters on the back, embroidered by the lady down the street from the club. I grabbed the milk I had come in for and scooped up a bag of Skittles for Margie. Then I walked up to the counter, pulling out a wad of bills from my back pocket. The attendant, much to my

“Elders, this is a scan of Katherine Ayla Regan’s brain when she arrived here yesterday. I’d like you to note the unusual activity in the parietal lobe. She tapped the screen, and the parietal lobe became greater. Kat looked at the screen confused. A weird pink light was pulsing across the lobe.

The cool air swept the sandy brown shores of Texas secret getaway. The windy breeze did not hide the water pouring down my voluptuous breast. My grandmother would call Texas Gulf Coast December climate Indian weather. I closed the door of my Avalon noticing the run in my stocking that race to my feet. I was Mathieu Jeanette Gustavo first patient, I had practiced exhibition behavior on my balcony with a strange Italian man this weekend. It was the first time Mathieu saw me in this behavior. I looked nothing like I usually do with my hair pulled back, loosely pants, long tee shirts, short wrinkle mini skirts, or some pajamas. I had watched Mathieu from my window looking down as the male put his penis in my mouth. I debated whether or

2006: A group of smiling faces greeted back at me, like the pretty, welcoming American Girls at New York I dragged my mom to see with me. “Yes!, did you see that? I got sweet, one point for me!” I exclaimed with my tiny fist pumping up and down and my butt wiggling from the excitement I could not contain inside of me. As the condensation from the fresh rain beaded up on the surface of my water, forming lopsided smiles droopy eyes, I blew hard and long; I consumed the biggest puff I could huff and puff, enough to blow down the three little pigs’ brick house. I slashed one tick mark and smiled proudly when there were no tick marks on the other side. The seven-year old me cackled softly as I sneakily slashed one more tick mark. A single sweet

When I was a toddler, I was potty-trained as most of us are. One winter break many years after I believed I had mastered the use of my bladder, my family visited my cousins. Santa Claus had been especially generous that year and given them a Wii, the most valuable gift my eleven year old self could have imagined. I was excited to race my sister, Sydney, in Mario Kart. Midway through the first lap, I realized that I desperately needed to go to the bathroom. I asked if we could pause the game, but everyone agreed that my absence would be a forfeit and Sydney would be crowned victorious. Having competed with her many times, I knew that losing was not an option. Winning meant excuses and insults to me in order to belittle the victory, but if I

“Drink” it ran from the stereo “Drink, significa bebida.” My sister and I had to sit on the couch every day and listen to a painfully perfect repetitive voice teach us English. My sister caught on pretty well with the language but she still had to repeat a grade due to the language barrier. I started off in preschool when we came to Massachusetts, so I had more time to adjust. I grew up shy, after coming from Colombia, but I made friends. My whole life was changing, but I never saw it as a bad change. But slowly I came to realize how Americans, through stereotypes and the media, perceived Hispanics latinos. The Hispanics on TV were usually loud, working minimum wage jobs, and frequently not as bright as the white charming main characters. Gradually

MISCONCEPTION IS BORN OUT OF MISCOMMUNICATION. WHEN STUDENTS GRADUATE THINKING THAT TOMATOES ARE VEGETABLES AND BEING UNSURE ABOUT THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN “DESSERT” AND “DESERT”, YOU’D COME TO BELIEVE THAT THEY HAVE HAD AN UNSUCCESSFUL LEARNING EXPERIENCE. IN SOME WAY, I’D DESCRIBE MY UNSUCCESSFUL LEARNING EXPERIENCE AT SCHOOL AS SUCCESSFUL.

I decided to go for my usual seat in every classroom, all the way in the back, since, from the perspective of a Class A observer, it was the best location to observe people. And stay out of trouble. And doze off during the middle of a boring lecture without the professor noticing. And dozens of other things I can’t think of at the moment. Just know that the back can be your very best friend during the long school year.

The day started off in Bangkok where we felt like millionaires despite only having paid $15 each for our two-bedroom penthouse airbnb with an infinity pool. It was hard to peel away from, but with only three days in the commercial hub of Thailand, we got our asses up and started exploring. The thin coat of mist naturally started to form as we walked down the polluted streets towards the temples. Any girl with big thighs understand the chafe-age struggles in the summer, and despite it being monsoon season in Thailand, ya girl was still struggling. (deodorant in between the thighs usually does the trick). Of course I’d wear shorts, despite my skin creating enough friction to start a damn fire, I’d rather have my legs out, than covered with even

Atypicals were first successfully introduced in the 1990s (Shen, 1999). The benefit of these drugs is that they are less likely to cause movement disorders than the typicals. But they instead, however, cause weight gain, leading to a much higher risk of diabetes. They also cause drug-specific side effects. For example, risperidone can increase serum prolactin leading to galactorrhea through its action on the dopamine tuberoinfundibular system, and clozapine can cause agranulocytosis, fatal seizures, and constipation. Atypicals do not have a higher efficacy than typicals, apart from clozapine, which is more efficacious than any other antipsychotic.