hair, mine that is

I am not my hair
I am not this skin

I really am not my hair, especially not the fact that I currently have dreadlocks. And have had for the last 15 months or so. People have all sorts of reactions to my choice of hair style and here are a couple:

• I must be dirty. Simply because I don’t wash my hair daily and such. No, show me any African who washes her hair daily, save for the ones who have it natural and shaggy short? Whose hair is relaxed and washed daily (and this person holds an 8-5)?
• I must be into African nationalism and anti-West. Nope, not even. I think the most African thing about me was my parents’ decision not to give me a European name.
• An aspiring Rasta? Nope, very secure in my relationship with Christ, definitely want to stick with him. For. Like. Ever.

To me, hair is just hair and the rest is politics. It’s all down to personal preference and nothing more.

I can’t help the fact that people will now call me dreads or rasta. I have also been offered a joint but that doesn’t faze me. I have had my hair relaxed between the ages of 12 and 23 and then I had it natural for a bit and then I locked it. If who I am had been determined by what I had on my hair, then what would that make me? If not a chameleon? I just think my hair is my crowning glory as a woman and I would never cut it all off, but that’s a discussion for another day.

 

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