[Originally written Oct. 9th, 2006-- The day before I loc'd my hair]
Okay, many of you who know me know I'm obsessed with my hair. I admit it. However, my obsession stems from other people's reaction to my hair rather than any sort of love for it myself. In reality, I don't really like my hair. It's not "black" enough, it's kinda thin, and it's too blond. However, my whole life, people have obsessed about my hair, making my hair part of my identity. When I was young, people used to comment on the little tanned girl with the long blond wild hair. My white grandma used to threaten to cut it off because it was too "frizzy" to comb. My black folks used to say it was soooo pretty because it was long, soft and considered "good" hair. When I was a young teenager, I always kept it pressed out because I wanted it to look like the other black girls hair. But it never did. Girls would hate on me for my hair; boys would love me for it. --> -->
As I got older and started going to the salon to get my hair done, I would feel uncomfortable as black women sitting under the hair dryers would stare at me as my hair dresser would style my light colored locks. I could feel myself shrinking down in the chair as I felt all eyes were on me. I would think to myself, "What are they looking at? What are they thinking?" Was it hate? Was it envy? Was it simply the sight of something different? I'm sure it was a little bit of everything but I didn't like it. I wished that one time I could walk into the salon like any other black girl and get her hair done without the all the looks, stares, or comments when my hair was done—like "Okay, Ms. Mariah Carey!" "Work it out Blue Cantrell!" "You look just like Nicole Richie!" or whatever other light skinned girl was popular at the time. I never looked like any of 'em but the point was that once the hair was laid out, I apparently looked like everyone's favorite mixed girl.
Now true enough, my hair has a certain versatility and I have been known to wear it many different ways—natural curls, pressed out, braided, twisted—you name it, I've done it. But it seems like the more I try and embrace my hair, the more people want to get involved. I'm sure some of my Packard sisters (Packard—Um PHI!) remember several confrontations freshman year when dudes felt the need to reach out and grab a handful of hair. (Everyone knows not to touch a black woman's hair without permission) Yes, I almost beat some ass over my hair. At Freaknic '97 I nearly got my ass beat cause some dude was trippin' and wouldn't leave me or my hair alone. Shit, less than a year ago, I backed a dude down into a corner, cursing him out for walking by me and pulling my hair in a club. He said he just had to see if it was real. Out of control!
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I say all of this because tomorrow morning I am locing my hair. Say what you will but I have been considering dread locs for about two years. I am not one for commitment (read that any way you want) so I had to make sure this is really what I want. When I told people about my decision, people's reactions were mixed. I expected that. Most folks told me I was crazy. People were like, "But your hair is your thing!" I'm like, "No, my hair is YOUR thing." But in reality this is a huge step. My hair is kinda my thing BECAUSE it is everyone else's obsession. For the most part, my friends with locs support me. Most of my girlfriends with perms don't understand me. The reality is, I've been a dread locked sista for a long time—just without the locs. I am a deeply spiritual woman who believes that The Almighty is omnipresent and in everything that I am and everything that I do. I have a revolutionary Panther-esque spirit and I am all the way down for my people. I am an educator seeking to teach the next generation about the strength, courage, and wisdom of our ancestors. Locs are simply an extension of my inner self—getting in touch with my roots (literally and figuratively). I also feel that by locking my hair, I will finally be able to disassociate myself from some of the artificial bullshit folks get wrapped up in. When my hair is pressed out straight, I seem to attract a lot more attention from men. I am always skeptical of this attention because I don't know if men are interested in me for me or because they were initially attracted to my hair. Sometimes men will come right out and tell me they like my hair or my light eyes or they may go as far as to tell me how we would have "pretty [read: light-skinned] babies." Nothing is a greater turn off to me. I am an accomplished woman with an eye toward the future. If the most attractive thing about me is my mixed-girl "breeding" qualities, you need to keep steppin'.
Hair is so critical to black women and it really is like our religion. I'm not saying we don't love the Lord, but we love our hair too! Hair issues are always present and they really do help shape who we are and who we become. It is time for me to shed my past, my hair insecurities, my security blanket of sorts and get in touch with my deepest, truest self.
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