Resiliency

A few weeks ago I traveled to Little Rock, Arkansas for the Rural Sites Network Conference. Several of my National Writing Project colleagues read my blog and asked that I explain what it meant to transition to my natural hair and why this was such a scary process for me. I was happy to oblige and answer any and all questions.

When I traveled to Arkansas, I was more and more self-conscious about my hair because I had surpassed the time I would normally have gotten a relaxer, so it was evident (at least in my mind) that people were noticing changes in my hair texture.

For the pre-conference activities I went to the William J. Clinton Presidential Library and the Central High School National Historic Site tour. Who knew that my visit to Little Rock, Arkansas would aid in my continuous growth through my hair journey. 

After the Clinton Library tour, a few of us walked to the Clinton Museum Store. It was there I met a beautiful regal looking Black woman with natural hair. I realized that I was staring, so I introduced myself and explained why I was being rude. She was very understanding and through our brief conversation I was uplifted. I felt a connection with this woman that I had never laid eyes on until that very moment in the store. She took a minute to share her testimony and how she was a year into the natural process. She explained how her friends and family thought she was crazy for cutting her beyond shoulder length mane to a teeny tiny afro. At the time our lives collided, she was sporting two-strand twists. She embodied where I want to be a year from now, confident and comfortable in my own skin. 

My next stop was Central High School. I have read both fiction and non-fiction accounts of the Little Rock Nine crisis in 1957. I wasn't prepared for the wave of emotions I would feel from being in that space. The strength of these nine teenagers taking a stand for what is right. I can't imagine how they felt being escorted to school, throughout school, and home each day. All of this made me think... why am I fretting over hair? If hair is my biggest worry then I should consider myself blessed. Did Ernest Green, Elizabeth Eckford,  Jefferson Thomas, Terrence Roberts, Carlotta Wall LaNier, Minijean Brown, Gloria Ray Karlmark, Thelma Mothershed, or Melba Beals concern themselves with how others might view them? If that were the case they would never have made history. They stood tall, held their heads high and pushed forward. They didn't worry themselves with those that were afraid. I was reminded that others were offered this same opportunity, but when the dust settled, nine were left standing.

This experience has reminded me that I come from a resilient people and I can face anything no matter how big or small.

aWordfromSmith

DD and I in front of the Little Rock Nine bronze statues outside the state capitol

In front of Central High School

Posing with Sharon Washington and Spirit Trickey-Rowan

Bittersweet

A few days ago, I had what I hope to be my last hair appointment. Well, I know I will still need someone to trim my ends ever so often, but not the two-week appointment like clock work that I have had for as long as I can remember.  As I sat in the shop for hours and hours upon end waiting for my stylist to call me to the chair, I welled with joy at the thought of being able take back those hours of sitting in a shop at someone else's mercy. These days of waiting from 3-6 hours are coming to an end. Those precious hours of my life, that I can never get back, can now be spent in the comfort of my own home taking the time to care for my hair and using that time to meditate, listening to an audio book, listening and/or singing along to music, watching a movie, or whatever I choose.

My time is valuable and I am often frustrated when others don't take this into consideration. What's the point of making an appointment if it is ignored? In all my years of getting my "hair done" I have never had a stylist that honored an appointment time. I am not bashing hair stylist, but I am speaking from my experience which is the only thing I have to base this information. I have waited as long as two hours before anyone touched my hair, not to mention the additional hours required to wash, dry, and style. Trust me, I have tried to find other people and if they get me in and out of the shop in a timely manner, I was dissatisfied with my hair when I left. Take this information for what it's worth, but I for one I am ready to take my hair into my own hands and out of the hands of others that could care less about its health and my time.

My hair has been thinning for years and whenever I'd mention going natural to my stylists they (yes, more than one) would discourage me from doing so. I trusted them as professionals and didn't pursue the matter further. I look back and think how unfortunate it is that black professionals would discourage instead of giving the facts and allowing me to weigh my options and make the best decision for Tanisha. Instead, they suggested and hair coloring, weaves, no-lye relaxers, and special hair care products. I did all the above except for the weave. I don't have anything against weave, but if I ever got a weave in my hair I'd have to get a sew-in, no way am I letting you glue anything to my scalp but all they used was glue. Needless to say, nothing worked. I finally relented and tried the coloring about a month ago. The color helped camouflage my thinning spots a little but not enough. I have been unhappy with my hair for years and it was time for me to inform myself and not rely on "professionals" to tell me what was best.

 2010

2007

I guess you could say going to the salon will be bittersweet. When something becomes so ingrained in your mind it's hard to go against it but I am ready for this next chapter.

aWordfromSmith

Assimilation

I don't know if I will try to blog everyday or not. I guess the best thing to do is write and allow the words to flow. And away we go...

Yesterday, I wrote about my decision to go natural.  Today, I want to write about why this is such a difficult process for me. Why is returning my hair to its natural state such a journey? In one word, fear. Fear of what you might ask. All my life I have been the "safe" black girl. I have always been the black girl at school or in the workplace that other races felt comfortable being around. I am black girl that was always asked those questions about black culture. I have heard and answered questions about our hair, foods we eat, why we wait so long to bury our dead, what do we do in church all day, myths about black men, how we come up with names for our children, and the list goes on. I have never been offended; I feel it is a natural part of life to be curious. Some of the most intelligent people I know are those that constantly ask questions.

In addition, I have always reveled in that fact that my classmates and colleagues felt comfortable enough to ask me those burning questions. So, what does all this have to do with my fear of going natural you might ask. Well...I have allowed a stereotype to permeate my way of thinking. I am ashamed to admit that I feel/felt (I'm a work in progress) that now people (within and outside of my race) will view me as militant. Maybe militant is a bit harsh, but not in my mind. Why do I feel this way? Why do I feel that all of sudden those who come in contact with me will see Sistah Souljah or Angela Davis not Tanisha? I have prayed and cried and prayed about this feeling because it is horrible for me to allow such negativity to enter my space. To be honest, I have always fought for what I believed was right. I often find myself being the only person of color in professional settings and speaking out for marginalized students, especially ones with little brown faces that are often misunderstood. But I do so in a noncombative way so now with natural hair will those same people begin to see me as being aggressive, confrontational, radical? Should I care? Am I wrong for caring what others think about me? Ugh! C'est la vive! Hakuna matata! I guess I am over analyzing, maybe not. Obviously I have lots of questions and very few answers.

Then there is the fear of job opportunities. Sad, but true. As a black woman, I know it is possible to be labeled/judged based on my outward appearance before I am even allowed a chance to utter a word. Am I placing myself in a horrible position? But to quote Shakespeare (corny, I know) I must "to thine own self be true." I can't be true to myself and continue to conform to how I feel others (society) would have me look. I know that regardless of my hair I will continue to be the best Christian, wife, sister, aunt, niece, cousin, granddaughter, friend, soror, colleague, teacher, educator, that I can possibly be.

I am releasing the subconscious belief that I have to assimilate. I know my self-worth and it is as healthy as my hair will soon be.

aWordfromSmith

The Decision

Let me start by saying this is my first attempt at blogging. I somehow feel compelled to share my thoughts with others so here goes. Growing up I never recall having insecurities or ill feelings about my hair but these feelings have definitely changed over the years. The main reason being that my hair was once thick and full of body. Now, it is thin and lifeless. I am what one would call a "Plain Jane." I didn't decide to try make-up until my thirties. As far as styling my hair, I am slow to change having worn a wrap throughout high school and most of my college years. Halle Berry had an impact on me, and I made the big chop around my junior year of undergraduate school. For years to come, I just switched between letting it grow and cutting in back off. Considering the various ways black women can style their hair one would think I would have tried to switch it up a bit but nah, I kept it simple.

Giving a little insight into my background will help one understand how profound it is for me to decide to go natural. This idea has been tugging at me for a few years. My first tug was when I read the book Nappily Ever After. I even got a little tug from the children's book Nappy Hair not to mention the infamous incident between Don Imus and the Rutgers ladies basketball team. The biggest tug was after viewing Chris Rock's documentary Good Hair and realizing that I was one of those women spending thousands of dollars to straighten my hair. Additionally, I have two nieces one with natural hair and one with a relaxer. I try to instill in them that we (women of color) are beautiful and come in various sizes, shapes, colors, textures, you name it. I want them to be proud of who they are and how they look and this isn't an easy task with how the media tends to portray beauty. Little black girls don't have the opportunity to see themselves plastered across various magazine covers or walking the runway.

So, I am beginning this journey not only for myself, but for those two girls that I adore with all my heart. I  know this transition will not be easy and I will have to rally the support of my family and friends to get me through. It is sad, but I realize that going natural will be a difficult process because I am addicted to the "creamy crack." I have always believed in the power of words both the verbal and written word. Writing things really solidifies things for me. I have written prayers, poems, life lessons, goals, short stories, and my proudest piece of work to date-- my dissertation. So, I believe the best way to embrace this new beginning of returning my hair to its natural state is through writing.

Let the journey begin...