You're Supposed to Stop at Red Lights

Initially, I chose to read The Purple Hibiscus, written by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, because I was interested in a culture that is quite opposite to mine. Whereas I have been given the opportunity to explore the world the way I choose to, the kids (reserved Kambili and her older, defiant brother Jaja) are sheltered by their dad, who enforces an insanely strict regimen in the name of "religion." A visit to their aunt's home reveals a culture where they are free to make their choices and explore, without the fear of their abusive father hurting them. Slowly, Kambili begins to step out of her shell and voice her opinions, encouraged by Aunty Ifeoma. When they return, the kids find themselves more stuck in their father's abusive household. After all, once someone has a taste of freedom, they'll never want to go back to the hole they came out of. 

A few days ago, I went on a drive with my mother to Birmingham. We were at a red light at a barren intersection when she said something that sincerely piqued my interest. She despised red lights, not because they made her wait (the expected response) but rather because they symbolized the way her freedom was being controlled. In India, there are no red lights or stop signs to indicate when to go and when to stop. If the road is empty, you can go. You would simply use your own judgment to make those decisions. But here, you have to follow the rules that are placed in front of you, because if you don't, there are major consequences. These decisions are already laid out for you by the government. The threats that you face if you don't stop at a red light or stop sign are a ticket that raises your insurance unnecessarily. How can this be considered free? You can't feel free when there is so much that binds you to the law.

The rules and regulations of traffic laws are to religion as the government is to Papa, and my mom is quite similar to the children who ache for freedom.

The American Dream is to explore freedom and opportunity, but all that is diminished by the millions of rules that one must follow. Though India definitely has its own issues, my mother definitely felt that the freedom she had was greater in her home country. Because it was not mirrored in America, she misses it and wishes she could change things like Kambili wished she could be bolder when she interacts with people. She incessantly compares the two countries, similar to how Kambili changed after staying with Aunty Ifeoma. The fear of the government and consequences cause her to abide to the laws, like the way Kambili follows religion, molding to Papa’s will. Her consequence is being beaten.

Honestly, I still don't understand my mom's sentiment. I feel free here. I think I can account this to the fact that I have lived a really sheltered life in Troy. My mother's story made me realize that the way I grew up wasn't as open as I originally thought when I chose this book for my lit circle. Though I am not sheltered in the way that my parents don't allow me to explore, I am in worldly knowledge.

The Purple Hibiscus made me really think about the way freedom is displayed around me. I have always struggled to understand the background my mother comes from. But understanding what a red light means to her, through the messages I've picked up on from the book, has truly broadened my views.