Hair Today, Hair Tomorrow
Good hair means curls and waves
Bad hair means you look like a slave
At the turn of the century
It's time for us to redefine who we be
You can shave it off
Like a South African beauty
Or get it on lock
Like Bob Marley
You can rock it straight
Like Oprah Winfrey
If it's not what's on your head
And it's what's underneath then say HEY....
- India Aire
Bad hair means you look like a slave
At the turn of the century
It's time for us to redefine who we be
You can shave it off
Like a South African beauty
Or get it on lock
Like Bob Marley
You can rock it straight
Like Oprah Winfrey
If it's not what's on your head
And it's what's underneath then say HEY....
- India Aire
Friday night I went to a poetry set because a friend (Phoenix - her stage name) had asked me to come and support her reading as a guest poet. I've been to this poetry venue (The Speakout) before because another good friend and ex-colleague (Say Yo - her stage name) is part of the troupe that puts it on. But anyway I did go specifically to be a comforting face in the crowd as my friend did her piece about her natural hair journey. And it was powerful.
Now you may or may not have noticed that the hairstyle on my avatar has changed in the last few months. About a year ago I started seriously contemplating loc'n my hair. So I stopped going to the beauty salon for relaxers and got my hair braided. I wore braided extensions for over a year, then in August tried to start locs by braiding my own hair. I went to an African-born loctician/braider and she said I could start locs without cutting the relaxed part of my hair. She just braided it and told me not to wash it for as long as I can stand it to allow the hair to loc. Yeah, that didn't work.
In September Say Yo introduced me to Phoenix at a poetry set because she knew I had decided to loc. At the time I took Phoenix's contact info because I knew he was moving out here and he would need a loctician. In October I set up an appointment for him and decided to get a consult myself. Phoenix did some test locs and we set an appointment for two weeks later for her to do my whole head.
So for a little over two months now I've had starter locs. She cut my hair, which was fine with me, and I've got little spikes. Except my spikes haven't stayed spikey as long as I'd like. My hair is growing fast (it's always grown fast) and my little spikes are starting to lay down. But I love it! Unfortunately I haven't taken any pictures yet (Phoenix and her husband take pictures each time I go for a retightening) so I can't post them. But I will take some soon because I realize I want to document each stage and look.
As excited as I am about my hair, I was not prepared for the reactions and presumptions that come along with it. When I made the decision to loc it I wasn't making any political statement. I like my hair. I liked my hair. I liked my hair straight. I liked my hair curly (yes, I did the "jheri curl" thang...). I liked my hair braided. My hair is thick. It grows fast. It has an unusual color that you'd have to mix 4-5 different bottles together to get. It's dark brown, light brown, red, blond, and (now) grey all at the same time depending on which section/strand you're looking at. I liked it up. I liked it medium. I liked it bobbed. I liked it long. I liked it with a ponytail piece. I liked it short. I liked it asymmetrical (all hail the Prince!)
But mostly I like it low maintenance. I found myself returning at least once a year to braids. Braids I didn't have to curl in the morning. Braids I could wash and go. Braids I could wear up, down. Braids I could swim in, hoop in, lift weights in, go to work in, go to church in, travel in and out of the country in. And then I met two women who had locs and guess what?! They looked like braids! At least in their width, length and versatility. And more importantly they didn't spend 10 hours getting them done every 4-5 months and 15 hours taking them out (to get them redone). That's how I made my decision. I wasn't saying relaxers, weaves, wigs, ponytails were bad. I'm just saying I don't want to do them anymore.
But there are a lot of people who put their agendas on others. And I've apparently switched sides. My best sista-friend hates it. She calls 'em naps (on me and everyone else) as an insult. She can't understand why someone whose hair is beautiful straight would not want to straighten it. (Uh... cuz I don't wanna.) From my biological family in St. Louis only my uncle has seen it. His comment was "You doing something different with your hair again." (But that's him; if I'm happy, he's ecstatic.) The first day I returned to work one of the older ladies, one of the secretaries, asked me "Why you got those pickaninny curls in yo head?" (Just smile T, she old). My students don't say anything except the occassional question of "You got twists, Ms.?" (No, I'm loc'n my hair.) People at church say my face looks better, "You can see more of your face, babee. You sure are pretty." (What you thought I was ugly before?!) Strangers smile at me and walk over to make complements, "I just had to come say something to such a beautiful, Black woman!" (Uh... ok...)
People do look at me differently. I got a standing ovation at the poetry set from the poet group because Say Yo reminded them I had kicked it with them one weekend and now I'm loc'd and free! Wow! I did not know it was that serious. I understand and empathize that some people choose locs because of a stronger sense of ancestry and beliefs. (Quiet as it's kept, when I wore braids in the corporate world, a part of me was saying "You have to accept it because I'm that good. And in case you forgot, I dont' know how you could, but I'm Black Woman.") And I think my biggest challenge will be facing my southern, color-struck family when I go home this summer (and when my mom comes to visit this spring), but overall it's just my hair. I'm still me. I still eat meat. I still curse when I get too upset to censor myself. I still get my (acrylic) nails done. I still have bourgeoisie tendencies (as well as hood-rat). I am not my hair.
But I love my hair. And I acknowledge that loc'n it has made me realize just that... I am not my hair. But MY hair is beautiful.
To see Phoenix's piece click here.
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