the pat down

Nothing to hide here

This time last week I was preparing to head to merrye olde England and gay Paree! Thursday at the butt crack of dawn (also known as 5:30 a.m.) I got up to shampoo and style my hair before we left. I knew we would be constantly on the go during the trip and didn’t want my hair to be a major concern. Also I didn’t want to give TSA a reason to pat down my hair. I’ve read horror stories about the experience. If celebrities have to go through pat downs, what hope would there be for me? Two-strand twists simply hanging down seemed like the best option to combat both problems. So I mixed up some curl-leeper (my fave product) and shea butter and twisted away. Typically twists are how I wear my hair during domestic travels. I never had a problem. Until this trip.

the silver fox

She found her first gray hair too!

Somebody grab a bottle of Clairol ASAP! The gray is coming! Yes, yours truly found her first gray hair on Saturday. There had been a series of false alarms (mainly because a certain white cat is always in my bed which leads to white fur always in my hair), but this time it is official. My dad went gray in his early 30s and I have several other cousins who got silver locs at a young age. It wasn't much of a surprise that I've found gray already.

bun head

This week I have been experimenting with wearing a bun every day. Every. Single. Day. Who knew there were so many different bun styles to wear? It's partially out of not wanting to wash my hair every week. I'm trying the every other week approach for the winter.Basically I wear it twisted week one and loose during week two. The buns have helped me stretch not washing my hair.

the hair extravaganza

It's time for me to have a hair extravaganza. I say extravaganza because my hair process takes anywhere from two hours to two days to complete (it depends on how I am feeling). The extravaganza only occurs once every week (actually it's more like every other week), otherwise I would go broke from buying hair products (and never have time to do anything). From start to finish this is my hair extravaganza:

Lunchtime change

Just a bunch of twists hanging freely.

Some mornings I can’t decide on how I want to wear my hair. I get up about 40 minutes before work (I literally work five minutes from my house). Once I’ve showered, gotten dressed and so forth, I usually have about 10 minutes to spare on my hair. In such a short amount of time I might not have a clear hair vision for the day.

hair and there again

This June marks seven years of being natural. Yay! I was natural before it was such a widespread movement. Most of the popular natural hair blogs, Youtube videos and even product lines were hardly on the radar. Initially most of my natural hair journey was trial and error. Now I have vast pieces of knowledge at my fingertips. Every day I'm learning more and more about what and what not to use in my hair, cool ways to style it and so forth. My Writing Wednesday posts for June will be dedicated to natural hair in honor of my seven years.

natural trendsetter

I’ve had an obsession with my hair ever since I went completely natural in July 2005. I can hardly believe it’s been six years since that fateful night. While taking out kinky twist extensions, I decided to cut off my relaxed hair down to the new growth. I realized something that night – I cannot cut hair.

Au Natural Haters

There is something so special about natural hair that people just have to hate it. Many think it’s unmanageable, unattractive or unprofessional, and they have no problem sharing those sentiments. People have forgotten the courtesy rule, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

Six years ago I transitioned from silky straight locks to an afro puff. Most people love my hair, but there are a few haters. Papa Duke is my chief hair hater. He constantly tells me to get a relaxer. One opinion of his is my hair will limit me in the professional world. It hasn’t stopped me yet. A longtime bestie already told me my hair must be straight for her wedding. OK I will straighten it for a day, but it will be twisted back up by the next. They both would prefer I have it bone straight with a bouncy wrap style. No thank you!

My granny and aunt both think my hair hinders my dating appeal. I’m often told I need to do something with my hair if I want to attract anyone. Another bestie shared a guy friend told her no man really likes natural hair. She pointed out a mutual friend with natural hair started straightening it and got a man, thus I need to do the same. In that case sign me up for cat ladyhood. I’m not one to change for other people.

Perhaps the biggest haters come from people at church. One member told me God wasn’t pleased with my hair. I told her God wasn’t pleased with her attitude. Another called my hair was short and nappy compared to my brother’s nice and silky grade. I had cut my hair off in solidarity for him losing his due to chemo. His hair grew back a different texture after treatments. She got the side-eye. Of course there are just the plain old rude ones that say “I don’t like it.” Well good thing it’s on my head and not yours.

I can’t make people accept my natural hair. They can’t make me relax it either. If loving my natural hair is wrong, I refuse to be right. Just keep hating haters.

a head full of personality

“'Cause you've got (personality).
Walk (with personality).
Talk (with personality).
Smile (with personality).
Charm (with personality).
Love (with personality).
An' plus you got a great big heart.”

Personality is usually attributed to people or animals. Tell that to my hair. It’s always had a mind of its own. I began to fully comprehend that idea after I went natural. That’s not to say my hair lacked personality while chemically processed. Personality has seemed to shine through even more so in its natural state.

Over time I’ve noticed several consistent traits about my hair. My hair is outgoing. It’s always all over the place, making friends with people. It’s also adaptable. I used to rock twists out every week, then I started braiding it. Now I’ve ventured into Bantu knots, flat twists and more. Whatever style I throw its way, my hair can handle. There are times when my hair can be assertive too. Some days it won’t even humble down to be styled. I usually end up letting it flow free as it wants to be.

The second time I cut all my hair off a cousin had a fit. Apparently rocking the tapered fro didn’t seem to fit my personality. A drastically different look invoked a new hair personality. This hair was more mature, refined and serious. It was fun while it lasted, but eventually I started to miss my longer locks and the personality that went with twists and braid outs or whatnot.

Essentially I’ve realized my hair is a reflection of me or who I want to be. “Hair is often an excellent predictor of someone’s self-image and lifestyle,” according to Jo-Ellan Dimitrius in “Reading People: How to Understand People and Predict Their Behavior – Anyplace, Anytime.” Most people would agree I’m outgoing. I never meet a stranger and talk to any and every body. I’m also fairly adaptable. One minute I have to be a writer and the next I’m a photographer. I’m not as assertive as I want to be, but it’s a work in progress. At the end of the day my hair is a mirror image of me. I’ve got personality. Of course my hair would have it too.

A Texture Tale

Once upon a time, but not long ago, a young woman realized there was something unusual about her hair. It was more than just the fact that fairy knots appeared mysteriously at the end of some strands each night. Instead she noticed there were two different textures in her hair. This caught the woman by surprise. Never had she noticed her hair to have more than one texture while rocking a relaxer. Her natural hair seemed to shine a light on the comparison.


The vast majority of her hair was of the Congo thick and kinky variety. Right dead center in the front patch was a variety of another. This patch was a lot finer and silkier compared to the course texture throughout the rest of the head. She dubbed it the North Africa Patch.

Normally the two textures united in hair harmony for most style. But one day the woman decided to just flat twist the patch and two strand twist the rest. A difference wasn’t noticeable – at first. The style remained in place for several days until it morphed into a twist out. Then a difference was visible. The entire head was coily and curly, but one little patch was ever so curlier. As the twist out faded, the Congo coils started morphing into an organized mess, due to a lack of a sleeping cap, but the North Africa patch remained vigilant in its defined curl pattern. What did this all mean? Was she the only one with this problem? The young woman decided to research and find out.

Hair websites, such as the Long Hair Care Forum, soon put the young woman to ease. Many other posters shared the same dilemma. It was indeed normal to have two different hair textures. Different circumstances could be the culprit, such as poor health, genetics or just because hair can be random in some cases. There was no need to be alarmed (not that she was worrying much anyway). So the girl went back to styling her hair with the same products. All was well in the world of her hair. And now dear reader this texture tale has come to an end.

Chronicles of Life … Vinegar vignette

It’s amazing the things I go through for my hair. Currently I smell like vinegar – Apple Cider Vinegar to be exact. Cue gag reflex now. My weekly hair regimen includes an ACV rinse after shampooing and conditioning. It is supposed to promote hair growth and a healthy scalp. Right now it is also promoting the desire to vomit. I guess I will keep it up for the sake of my hair. I do so enjoy the way my hair feels after an ACV rinse.

I haven’t always been an ACV enthusiast. Vinegar has never been one of my favorite things. Who in their right mind likes vinegar? It smells like a slow death on a hot summer night. I tried to avoid vinegar at all cost regardless of how little or much was used. No dying Easter eggs, making red velvet cake or eating salt and vinegar chips for me. They all require the use of vinegar. Then it happened: dandruff.

Usually I mix baking soda with my shampoo or conditioner for a clarifying treatment. In October I ran out of baking soda and never remembered to get some more. Soon I started having an itchy head. When I scratched it looked like snow was falling. Not. Cool. At. All. If I didn’t get a handle on it people would probably start calling me Dandruff Girl. I could have used baking soda again, but there is something about it that doesn’t mesh as well as I like with my hair. So I researched different treatments on natural hair sites motowngirl.com and nappturality.com. Both mentioned ACV rinses and provided recipes which seemed simple enough to make.

Sometimes I’m a homemade hair care product junkie. I’ll try almost anything once on my hair. I’ve left a yogurt and honey mixture on my hair overnight (it felt soft as lamb’s wool the next day). Eggs have found their way on my head (it’s a great protein treatment). Even Kool-Aid was once used for a quick dye job (I was a red head for a week). I figured it was time to give ACV a try. Silly me thought since it was made from apples the normal vinegar odor would be missing.

My concoction included one part ACV, two parts water and a dollop of honey mixed together in a bowl. The mixture was poured over my head after shampooing and conditioning and I rubbed it into my scalp for about three minutes. Those were the longest three minutes ever. IT SMELLED HORRIBLE. I thought I was going to pass out. If you ever want to torture me, just cover me in vinegar, and I will sing like a canary.

But I could immediately feel the difference in my hair after rinsing the mixture out. Normally baking soda makes my hair feeling clean but very dry. The ACV rinse provided squeaky clean and moist hair results. I’m official a fan of ACV rinses now. Except for when it gets into my nose, which happened a few weeks ago. I thought the Death Angel was coming for me. The smell lingered way longer than normal. I went to bed and woke up the next morning still smelling vinegar. Yuck!

The bad thing about ACV rinses is no matter what I add to it – lemon juice, honey, water – it still smells. There is no escaping it. I have to hold my nose just to mix it together. And if you don’t pour it just right, it will get on everything but your hair. At least the smell disappears almost instantly after rinsing it out or drying. And a bottle only costs about $1. That’s a product price I can really enjoy.

For now ACV is my go to hair ingredient. People say beauty is pain. Smelling vinegar is a small price to pay for luxurious locks. I’ll happily suffer through the smell to miss out on dandruff.

Chronicles of Life ... Look, don’t touch

I love my hair, especially touching it. I rock the natural look and the compliments flow in. Hearing them is always greatly appreciated; however, people who touch my hair without permission are not. Few things irritate me more than random strangers touching my hair. It makes me feel violated in at least 10 different ways. Unfortunately, it’s happened more times than I care to count. Now I must take action. The next nimrod that touches my hair unsolicited is going to get slapped. My pimp hand is ready.


It's been a few months since someone had the audacity to touch my hair. Then it happened again Saturday. I was talking to two men, and to my horror one placed his hands all over my head. I froze. It wasn’t even a quick touch a go, but an all out hair groping. I should have saw it coming when he said, “I love your hair.” I had to inch away so he would stop touching me. It lasted for maybe about 10 seconds but the damage is done. I am a hair assault victim. Someone please call 9-1-1.

Just when I thought the worst had passed, another violator appeared. “Your hair is so cool,” she said. Up went her hands, and the first man joined he assault on my hair. I froze again. You just don’t expect to be violated twice in one day. Then they both said my hair reminded them of Tracy Chapman. I wasn’t sure if I should take that as an insult or compliment (Side Note: After looking up pictures of her on Google, I am thoroughly insulted. Macy Gray would have been a compliment). I think a little part of me died inside. It was all I could do to walk away from the situation, with some dignity. Immediately, I called a friend and my parents to share my tale of woe. “I have just been violated,” I said. Everyone says I should have slapped their hands away or called security. I was just too shocked to do anything.

To me, hair is a part of the body, akin to breast. Imagine having random strangers touching your breast all the time. You would feel violated. People can compliment my hair all they want, but touching it is humiliating. I feel like in their eyes I am no longer a person, but a puppy to pet or some side show freak, a la Saartjie "Sarah" Baartman. I shouldn’t have to feel like that. It is blatant disregard of my personal space and shows I am not respected as another human being.

I was always taught hair is the woman’s glory. Hair touching is an intimate act that should only be shared with close family and friends. There is an elite group of people who can touch my hair without asking. Half the reason I went natural was because I didn’t like having any and every beautician in it. If I won’t let professionals touch my hair, then strangers can forget it. I don’t know you or where your hands have been.

There is also a racial issue often perceived from these types of situations. I can’t speak for all of us, but the black women I know ¬– relaxed or natural – hate when strangers touch their hair. I won’t get into the whole historical context, but I always wonder, “Would they have been so intrigued if I wasn’t black, especially with natural hair?” There are hundreds of blog posts all over the internet dedicated to the issue of touching a black woman’s hair. Renee, of womanist-musings.com, wrote it best, "My blackness and your curiosity does not give you the right to touch me."

This whole experience has been traumatic. I probably need therapy. Washing and styling my hair always soothes me. I just washed it Thursday, but that unwanted hand residue makes my hair feel dirty. I’m thinking about writing Oprah. Maybe I can share my tale of woe on her show. I know I’m not the only victim of hair assault (black or otherwise).

One day I will get through this, and when I do, all the hair violators better beware. My hair may be the eighth wonder of the world. My natural coils might look so soft and inviting. You might get seasick by my waves. But I’m giving you fair warning, you can look, but don’t touch. Lest ye want to feel the wrath of my backhand.

Chronicles of Life ... the class cut up

There is just something about hair. The bond between it and a person should not be disturbed. I like to play in mine. Touching it has a soothing effect. I like feeling every little kink and curl. Who would think that’s a crime? Apparently it is if you’re in school.


A Wisconsin teacher cut one of the braids from a 7-year-old student’s hair because she wouldn’t stop twirling it. She made the little girl come up in front of the class, took the scissors and snipped about three inches. Then she told her more would get cut if she didn’t stop. The little girl went back to her seat in tears while all the other children laughed.

After school the little girl told her mother. The mother didn’t even believe the news at first. Who could imagine a teacher that cruel? Mom went to meet and discuss it with the teacher. Ms. Cuts and Such said she did it out of frustration. Is this really how you handle your frustrations? The little girl’s hair is naturally long, but the teacher thought it was fake and therefore OK to cut off.

Overall the teacher didn’t feel like she did anything wrong. The school moved the child to another classroom and is conducting a discipline hearing. The police department has issued a $175 citation for disorderly conduct. Personally, I think the teacher should be removed from teaching period. Obviously, she does not need to work with children.

Hair is a part of your body. If I cut somebody’s finger, that would be a major crime. The same should apply to cutting someone’s hair out of malice. Sure it might not hurt, but hair is a woman’s glory. Some of my friends have a hissy fit if hair dressers cut their hair unsolicited. I don’t even like people touching my hair without permission. They definitely can’t cut it.

This incident could greatly affect the child for the rest of her life. The littlest thing can leave an impression. I know firsthand. My kindergarten teacher made me drink a carton of milk in front of the entire class because I didn’t at lunch. I ended up crying and throwing it all up. To this day, I don’t like milk.

I understand teachers have a lot to deal with. Children these days are little monsters. Maybe the little girl’s hair was disruptive. She did have several beads on the end. The teacher had already kept her from recess because she didn’t stop playing. But shouldn’t the next step have been sending her to the principal’s office?

The mother said the little girl only plays in her hair when she’s nervous. How many times do we do something subconsciously? I bite my lip, play in my hair and even crack my knuckles without thinking all the time. I wouldn’t dare want to do act up in that teacher’s class. What does she do to a child talking too loud? Perhaps we’ll hear of her cutting a tongue next.

Chronicles of Life ... the ever changing hair journey

Chronicles of Life ... the ever changing hair journey


I miss my hair. Wait, let me clarify. I miss my LONG hair. I miss twisting it, touching it, washing it, combing it, playing it. You name it, I miss it.

Don't get me wrong, I do so enjoy the short 'fro. It's so much easier to maintain than one of those giant Angela Davis Afros. And I've always wanted to cut my hair. This summer I had motivation to really do it.

My little brother went bald because of chemotherapy, so I cut mine short in solidarity. His hair was gone by the end of July. Mine by August. Then the treatments ended early, and his hair was back by September. Now he's around here making the girls seasick with his waves (the new hair came back just as nice). Yours truly still has the short hair.

I just want my twists back. Is that too much to ask?

Honestly, I'm also bored with this whole short hair thing. There are only so many ways to wear a teeny weeny afro. I know of two. Combed out or wash and wear. I need more than two hair options. Granted, when I had longer hair I only wore three styles (twists, twist out, giant afro puff). But I had the opportunity for more versatility if I wanted to. I feel limited with the short fro. Or at least I just don't know of any other options

Therefore, I am currently growing out my hair. It's time for this to grow. I haven't been to the barber in about a month. However, I barely see any results (except with my eyebrows, which could stand a tweeze or two). Whoever said progress was a slow process was talking about hair growth for women. Men's hair seems to grow 10 inches overnight. I feel like it's going to take me 10 years just to get back to my old chin length hair (when straightened).

The need to play in my hair grows greater by the day. I've started subconsciously making itty bitty twists in my hair. I don't realize it until I look in the mirror and notice my 'fro is all messed up.

Just as soon as I have about one or two good inches of hair, I'm getting it twisted with extensions. Then I'll have hair to play with for days. I have no qualms about adding extensions to my head. I kept my hair braided and twisted up for about a year while growing out my relaxer four years ago. For the record, it was synthetic. No horse or human was hurt in the making of my hair products.

Better yet, I might just get some baby starter locs. Now there’s a new hair challenge for me. I'm always reinventing my hair. I did say I want locs and there is no time like the present. If nothing else, they'll be a little something to twirl around without messing up my hair style. And when I get tired of lock, I'll just cut my hair off again. The hair journey never ends.

Chronicles of Life ... What not to say

Even in the 21st century, sensitivity and diversity seem to be an issue in the community. Some people just don’t know what to say to each other.
Perhaps I need to write a training manual to help people avoid making ignorant comments.
I have been inspired by an incident today.
I was rocking a head wrap, as I sometimes do, and walked passed someone. She preceded to ask me, “What’s with the Aunt Jemima look?”
Well you could have just knocked me over with a feather. I was flabbergasted.
This isn’t the first time I've worn the head wrap. In fact, each time people have responded with comments such as, “Oh you look so chic, sophisticated, stylish,” and so on.
Normally, I don’t have comebacks for ignorant comments. This time I did say something.
“This is not an Aunt Jemima look,” (and I didn’t even catch an attitude, I might add).
But what I should have said is, “And just what do you mean by that?”
Obviously it wasn’t a compliment. It felt more like an insult to me.
Aunt Jemima doesn’t really denote a positive connotation in my opinion.
Look at the old school images of Aunt Jemima, and what do you see? A a plump, smiling, bright-eyed, black woman wearing a head rag. Aunt Jemima was even marketed as a former slave.
Above all, Aunt Jemima is the most common representation of a “mammy.” Who in their right might would mistake me for a mammy?
In the words of my friend Cee, “I don’t know who you think you are, but most importantly I don’t know who you think I am.”
Whether or not the person knows the story behind Aunt Jemima is unimportant. The fact that she even thought a comment like that was acceptable is just disturbing.
Then again, I can’t be that surprised to hear her ask me that. She’s asked in the past if I rolled my neck and do other things “that black people do.”
I know she’s not the only one who thinks like that and sees no harm in asking ignorant questions. Thus, the need for my manual.
Fan Club Prez, and a few others, thinks I should have told her off or drop kicked her one time.
That’s not my style. And what would it have solved? She would have still been basking in her ignorance, while I would have looked equally ignorant and gotten arrested.
Above all, I have a fear of getting arrested and ending up as Big Shirley’s girlfriend in the pen. You know they probably would trade me around for a pack of gum and cigarettes. It just ain’t happening.
I’d love to print off pictures of myself and Aunt Jemima, then give them onto her with a note that says, “Ignorance is bliss.”
Then again, I’m not that confrontational. Besides the moment has passed, so there’s only one thing left to say, “Mrs. Jane Doe, you get a DO BETTER AWARD!”
Her prize is an autographed copy of my forth coming manual, “What Not to Say: Dealing with Diversity and Sensitivity.”

Chronicles of Life ... Fabulously Fly

I am what some would consider a fashion disaster most days. I defy, well actually ignore, fashion rules and trends.
My hair is usually wild and unruly (or at least it was back when I had hair). My style is considered non-existent by my friends and families.
Personally, I don’t care. I do me (and I do it well). However, there are those very few occasions when I conform to normal beauty standards and might make people think I am a fashionista.
They are rare, very rare. Like maybe once every six months rare.
I can turn heads quicker than lightning with the right hair style, outfit and shoes. Yes, I do clean up quite nicely, I must admit. Of course the compliments just flow right it.
“Girl you look good! Sexy mama! Watch out now!”
But the one saying that really grinds my gears is “What’s his name?”
What, I can’t look good just for me?
I’ve been asked that quite a few times lately. I now cheerfully responded, “Jesus.”
Anytime I change up my look or style people chalk it up to some dude. I have never changed my look for anyone except myself.
Even though my brother was the basis for me cutting my hair, I had thrown the idea around of actually doing it for a while.
If I get a mani/pedi it’s for me. These freshly arched eyebrows point to my enjoyment. I am rocking the fro in recognition of my own beauty.
Believe me, my ego is already so inflated that I know how fly I am even on those “rough days.” I don’t have to step it up to notice it. And if I do, you can bet it isn’t for some man.
As one friend pointed out, men don’t really even notice things like arched eyebrows or manicures. Women do it for other women.
I am sure men appreciate the overall package. But seriously who really pays that much attention to detail? Surely not I. And I’m a woman.
At any rate, I would prefer some guy catch me on my regular days. Being extra fabulous is too much work for me.
I’ll just stick to my normal fabulously fly self.

Chronicles of Life ... the bald and the beautiful Share

It’s starting again! The urge to cut, that is.
The last time I felt like this I cut my hair down to the new growth at 3 a.m.
It was six months after I started growing out my relaxer. My cousin twisted my hair every few months with extensions to aid the transition process.
But one night, while taking some old twists out, it happened. I picked up the scissors and couldn’t stop.
Hair was all over the sink.
My hair looked a hot mess, but at least I was getting it re-twisted the next morning.
Having a fall back was excellent, because I am no stylist. Sure I do a little this and that every now and then, but I know my limitations.
That’s not the case this time.
Lately my split ends have really been irking me.
It’s my own fault. I don’t go get my ends trimmed like I should.
I go to a hairdresser maybe every six months.
For some reason, the split ends really got the best of me a few weeks ago. So I washed my hair, twisted it up and arbitrarily cut off two-three inches at 3 a.m. again.
The feeling was exhilarating! I felt alive!
And my hair was split end free, or so I thought.
Then I noticed a few leftover split ends the next week. The urge to cut returned with a vengeance.
I had to remove all the evil split ends so my hair could truly be healthy. It was the only hope.
So I cut off another two inches.
I was OK for a while. Then just the other day I saw a split end.
You know what I’m thinking about doing?
My mother says I need to stop playing hair dresser and go see a professional. There is no time!
My hair is crying out for help. I must pick up the scissors one last time.
Two more inches should do the job.
If not...OK there is a good chance the next time my parents see me I will be bald.
Not totally bald, mind you, because my daddy would have a cow.
Personally, I have wanted to cut most of my hair off for some time. I’ve done practically everything else to it, and always loved my hair when it was short.
How cool would it be to have only one inch of hair on my head?
Maybe the split ends are just the nudge in that direction.
Some say it won’t look right. Sorry, but my ego makes me fully believe I can pull off any hair style, and quite well I might add.
I can always get a wig as a fall back.
I’m not sure if the world is ready for a “bald” new Antonia.
But there’s only one way to find out... to be continued.

Chronicles of Life ... Hair wars

I went to the mall with a friend on Labor Day, and we had an interesting exchange with a store clerk.
The clerk complimented my hair and asked me how long I had been natural (three and a half years and counting). She used to be natural herself and asked to touch my hair.
Soon the three of us struck up a conversation about hair.
My friend mentioned she was getting a relaxer the following week. And the clerk called my friend ever so softly, but loud enough where we could still hear, “a weak black woman.”
Did we hear correctly? Homegirl was trying to call my friend out on her personal hair decision.
Now if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black!
She was no longer natural. So what does that say about her?
The whole situation had me thinking of the battle between “good” and “bad” hair.
There seems to be a constant source of contention with some in the happy nappy and silky straight crews. Representatives from each group tend to demean one another’s hair preference.
It sort of reminds me of the song and dance routine from “School Daze” when the Jiggaboos and Wannabees poke at each other.
The song brought up several sentiments.
The Wannabes (i.e rexlaxed hair) want to be white and think they’re better, seem more attractive, have hard hair, have good and long hair and are evil.
Whereas, the Jiggaboos (i.e. natural hair) are not ashamed of their blackness, can’t get a man, have stronger hair, have bad and short hair and are jealous,
Spike Lee seemed to have hit it on the nail!
And the problem is too many people buy into these myths and perpetuate these feelings each day.
I say it’s time for a cease fire order.
All hair types are beautiful, whether it be relaxed and short, long and natural or somewhere in between.
Relaxed and natural sisters need to seat down and agree to disagree.
Not everyone with straight hair wants to be white. And all natural hair wearers are not revolutionaries.
Furthermore, there are plenty of women with cute short natural ‘dos, and even more with natural hair down their back.
We have enough to weary about without scrutinizing over someone else’s hair.
Relaxed hair isn’t right for me, but who am I to say it’s wrong for you?
Yours truly plans to live nappily ever after, but I won’t put down anyone else who chooses otherwise.
Any hair is good as long as you take care of it.

The Hartwell Chronicles ... Good or bad hair

Who would have thought finding a hairdresser could be so hard?
I went to the same person for as long as I can remember back in Florida.
Whatever I did with my hair, Ms. Stacy was there to see it through. She has cut it, dyed it and weaved it up for me when it was long and short; relaxed and natural; or soft and rough.
It's been a while since I've been to a hairdresser.
I love doing my hair now that it's natural. It's all about trying new things.
But there are some things I can't do, such as cut it.
Finding a stylist was the first thing on the list when I moved to Hartwell.
Trips to Wal Mart weren't just about shopping. They were about stalking that sista to the left with the tight 'do.
A nicely done hairstyle is the best business card for any stylist. The only problem was none of them did natural hair.
What is with the discrimination against the 'fro and frizz?
I finally learned of one lady way back in September.
It was not a happy ending.
I called to set up an appointment and told her I wanted my ends trimmed and a deep conditioning.
She has had natural hair herself. I thought I had found a kindred spirit.
WRONG!
Strike one: Home girl did not accept appointments on Saturdays, only walk ins.
Strike two: That wasn't too bad until I entered the shop at 10 a.m. and waited until almost 1 p.m. before she started on my hair.
Strike three: She did not cut my hair!
“Natural hair is too hard to cut,” she said. “Unless you want a particular style, I think you should just let it grow free.”
Did I mention I didn't get the deep condition either?
And you're out!
I haven't been back since then.
I can't be bothered waiting countless hours to not get what I want. I'm trying to keep my hair good.
No, I don't mean good as in naturally silky straight hair: the kind some people tend to have.
Good hair is healthy hair. You can get so much weave until its unbeweaveable, a relaxed mane retouched every six weeks or, my personal favorite, the naturally you 'do and have healthy hair.
Having good hair is not just about genetics. It's about keeping it healthy.
Lately, my state of health has fallen into disarray.
It's bad y'all, real bad.
I thought I was avoiding it, but somehow it caught up with my. Now I have the ... dum, dum, dum ... dreaded split ends.
I NEED A HAIR CUT NOW!
Clearly, the first stylist I went to didn't know what she was talking about. It might be hard to, but natural hair does need to be trimmed every now and then.
Ms. Stacy definitely cut my hair after I went natural.
I started back on my quest for a local stylist, a few weeks ago. I know I'm not the only person in these parts rockin' the natural look.
Then again, I haven't seen anyone other women wearing twists, 'fros or natural curls. Guess I am one of a kind.
I was determined not to have to travel to Atlanta (two hours away), Athens (45 minutes away) or even Greenville (one hour away) just to get my hair “did.”
And I did finally hear of one lady who will deal with the fierce 'fro.
Saturday afternoon I have an appointment for a press and cut.
It's been a while since I've seen my hair straight. But with the weather the way it is, the curls will be back in a day.
Right now I don't care if my hair is straight, curly or frizzy. I just want my good hair back.