My hair story. (I only want to do this once!)

I am in a time where I, clearly and unequivocally, am disenchanted with so many things. As a black woman, I realized that there are certain things that you will never be able to expect people to understand. Some of them relate to race, some of them relate to money, some of them relate to gender and sexuality education/exposure, some of it has much to do with tolerance. And when you get up in age, travel and become part of a global village, there really are some things that don't translate. EVER!

One of the things that rarely translates is black hair. And this particular scenario, is not something that we all experience. Since my trans-continental identity has me dealing with it, I figured I would talk about it. Its different, I'm different. And here is why...

I will start out by saying that black women's hair care can be a beautiful story. We can have a relationship with our hair that is strong, proud, and sensitive to our feelings of belonging. But then there is me... My hair story is just so..weird. I don't have a nice relationship with my hair at all. As I try hard to cultivate it now, to change my mind, I start to realize all the damage I did in the first place by assuming my hair had to be a certain way for people to accept me. This is not a lie or a misunderstanding. Caucasian and Asian people have been very direct in telling me that they did not like my hair or my hair texture and asked me if there wasn't anything I could do... to make it look like Tyra Banks or Beyonce or just not so...so...so...(use your imagination). Why does their hair look like that?  I try to explain. I really do. I try to tell them that these women have hair that naturally looks like mine and the process that they go through to keep it looking "acceptable". I found it problematic that they felt comfortable to even say that to me when they clearly do not know what kind of racism or physical/cultural disrespect is attached to it. (Colonizing of my mind where even I have had to look at myself and wonder if I was wrong for being natural). I also try to explain that my hair never really grew from my head for more than a year or two with out me doing something chemical or heat-oriented to it and could they imagine having something chemically treated every 6 weeks, attached to them their whole life?

Here in Korea, I question the many discrepancies I witness in cultural identity. This is a culture that is clearly psychologically disenfranchised, but are extremely nationalistic and self-reliant. Its like a dichotomy that is increasingly hard to explain. An analogy: An old world meets a new world but the old world only likes certain things about the new world. Mainly the aesthetics because the old world lacked the gift of being "shiny".

So eurocentric features are really only better if you are Korean. Because to be anything but the status quo in Korea is co-signing yourself to a very sordid reality of plastic surgery and heavy make-up. Men and women alike.

And then there is the topic of value/values. I am an acceptable black woman because, "I am pretty.".. "I have a small face"... "My legs are long". Oh... the friends I have made, because my legs are long. Its funny but true. I am valuable because of my appearance and because I speak English. And in a way, this is troubling, but I am here and I can't help but wondering if it has anything to do with this punishing ideal that looking the part is better than being the part because you can always be the part later (with the assistance of a make-up artist and some acting classes). In Korea, I truly am trying to grow into my own beauty, but not the outside one. So organically growing my hair, in order to feel more 'me'. Organically growing my hair, in order to feel more authentic since my sincerity is always under fire (along with my passions). This may be the only time in this life that I can look in the mirror and appreciate the fact that who I am is (emphatically) amazing. No if's, but's/burns or lyes (pun intended), about it.

Now I could go into the geo-neo-race politics of why black hair care, specifically black women's hair care, is systematically irresponsible. I could talk about the 'why', the 'who' and the 'how' of what is means to be so disenfranchised that we bleach our skin and straighten our hair because of "jacked-up" ideals. I could talk about it all. But I realize that this has been done and done again.. and again.. and again.. In class rooms, in ciphers, in homes, in beauty shops and on screen (both TV and film). After a while we resign to what works for us as individuals (and I see a bald-headed future myself).

The conversation continues to bother me. It continues to be a sore spot, unless you are praising what is naturally mine and beautiful about me and other black women who out of sensibility and pride, wear their hair naturally.

I realize that at the end of the day it takes an increasingly strong female to be who and what she is without the pressures of the world. It takes an extremely strong female to be a foundational, unwavering soul on what is right, or to be a smart uncompromising individual with very little dependency on public opinion.