Everyday use double consciousness

Duncan Camlin-Irving                         4/3/12                                                                             

                                        Everyday Use Double Consciousness

 “Well,” I say. “Dee.”

“No, Mama,” she says. “Not ‘Dee,’ Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo!”

“What happened to ‘Dee’?” I wanted to know.

“She’s dead,” Wangero said. “I couldn’t bear it any longer being named after the people who oppress me.”

            W.E.B Dubois’ theory of double consciousness refers to the awareness of the “two-ness” of being “an American and an African-American,” and the “largely unconscious, almost instinctive movement between these two identities.” (The Veil and Double Consciousness by W.E.B Dubois, page 2). Many black people struggle with their identities as both Africans and Americans. They try to see themselves as Americans but have trouble because they are not treated like Americans, they are treated like a different species. Many black people in Dubois’ time chose to turn their back on their American heritage out of spite, and embrace their African roots. Alice Walker’s short story, “Everyday Use” illustrates this concept through the characters and plot. In this story, a mother and her youngest daughter, Maggie live together in a rather run-down old house in the southern countryside. They are visited by the other daughter, Dee, who has gone off to college in the city. She has lighter skin than that of her mother or sister, is modern and fashionable, and a self-styled intellectual. It is clear that she considers herself better than them.  Close to the beginning of the story, Dee announces to her mother that she has changed her name to “Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo.” This shows how desperate she is to abandon her African American heritage and explore her African side, which is a perfect example of double consciousness, because it shows that Dee does not consider herself as an American any more.

            When Dee (Wangero) says “I couldn’t bear it any longer being named after the people who oppress me,” she is literally blaming her ancestors for their enslavement, which is incredibly ironic, even if she doesn’t see ho. She was named Dee after her aunt Dee, who was named after her grandmother. She wasn’t named by her oppressors, she was named by her African American family. It is as if Dee has unconsciously convinced herself that being a ancestor of slaves is something to be embarrassed about. She is ashamed to be descended from them because this idea of ‘double consciousness’ has sunk in so deeply. Dee has not noticed the presence of this idea of double consciousness that has been buried inside her mind. The logic behind Dee’s name change is that the name ‘Dee’ was a name given to her grandmother by the slave owners and so a name from before their enslavement is better. However, the name she chose is a poor choice.

“Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo” is a hybridization of names from both East and West Africa. In his essay, “Everyday Use: Defining African American Heritage”, David White states, "In researching the name Wangero Leewanika Kemanjo,  Helga Hoel found that the names Wangero and Kemanjo are misspellings of Kikiyu names ‘Wanjiro’ and ‘Kamenjo’. Leewanika is an African name, but it is not Kikiyu. Hoel also found that Dee’s dress is of West African origin (The Kikiyu are East African)." Dee’s ignorance of her adopted African heritage is matched by her ignorance of her actual American heritage. Dee knew she had been named for her Aunt Dee, but was unaware of how far back the name went in her family. Dee tries to argue with her Mother about the origins of the name “Dee.”

"But who was she named after?" asked Wangero.

"I guess after Grandma Dee," I said.

"And who was she named after?" asked Wangero.

"Her mother," I said, and saw Wangero was getting tired. "That's about as far back as I can trace it," I said. Though, in fact, I probably could have carried it back beyond the Civil War through the branches.

"Well," said Asalamalakim, "there you are" (318).

By saying that she couldn’t bear being named after the people who oppress her, in a way, she means her mother and sister. She sees them as stupid and primitive, while Dee herself is charming and sophisticated. As Mama puts it,    “She washed us in a river of make-believe, burned us with a lot of knowledge we didn’t necessarily need to know. Pressed us to her with the serious way she read, to shove us away at just the moment, like dimwits, we seemed about to understand.” Obviously, Mama feels Dee’s frustration, but tries to understand nonetheless. When Dee gets out of the car and announces heartily, “Wa-su-zo-Tean-o,” she must have known her mother and sister would not understand, however she says it anyways. Wa-su-zo-Tean-o is a Ugandan greeting which means, “How did you sleep?”

Double consciousness can cloud someone’s daily life, creating rifts between family and friends, all because of a little idea that was planted and then grew into something that transforms the person permanently. Dee can’t see that she has changed into a different person, one who is ignorant of both sides of her heritage. She can’t see that maybe she is actually not the smartest person in her family.