PRIDE

P3 R1 I1 D2 E1 - Single word score, 8 points

One day, we will all be thankful for what was given to us. Until then, we have to be "happy" with being ashamed of what we were born with.

I was at my mom's house last night celebrating her birthday with her and my newborn. While she was holding her and I was taking my napptural braids down, she asked me: "what are you going to do when Akili is ashamed of your hair?"

That comment/question (because she was making a statement while asking a question, TRUST) stopped my in my tracks and left me speechless for a moment. I tried to get my thoughts together but that pissed me off and hurt me at the same time so I couldn't think straight much less come back with a decent enough retort to shut her up. Eventually, I was able to muster up something pitiful like "well, I plan on teaching her that her hair is beautiful" or some crap like that. But for the rest of the evening, the only thing I could think about was "Momma, are you ashamed of my hair?"

Finally, I asked her that exact question. Do you know what she said? "Yes, sometimes I am." Then she went on to talk about how pretty it would be if it were pressed and how it would be so long and down into the middle of my back. All I could do was look at her because it was her birthday and I really didn't have the strength or the want to get into an argument with her because it would ALWAYS end up at her straightening my hair.

My mom has always had an obsession with hair and its length, like most Black women unfortunately do. She has what one would call short hair, kind of Anita Baker length and it's always been about that length for as long as I can remember. My dad's side of the family has always had long hair...shoulder length, bra length, waist length. And despite my mother never saying that she was jealous of their hair, she always had an issue with them when they cut it or when I cut mine. And when I decided to cut it off into a TWA (teeny weeny Afro for those of you who don't know), she had a fucking cow, didn't talk to me for a few weeks, and actually threatened to disown me.

This behavior of hers always fucked with me because in every other aspect of my physical being she taught me to be proud. She told me to be proud of my height, my weight (or rather my not being rail thin), and my color (hell I've always wanted to be darker and I'm not exactly high yella). But my hair and what I decide to do with it especially after I became a natural made me less than, at least in her eyes, and for some reason wrong because I didn't find or have a need to press it or straighten it beyond recognition.

I love my hair the way it is. I don't have a problem with what I was given by my God because God is good and all that S/He does is good (funny how Christians say that God can do no wrong until it comes down to nappy ass hair ain't it?). My child will be taught that her hair is beautiful and chemicals or excessive heat is not necessary to have beautiful hair. And she will also be taught that nappy hair doesn't make you less than or less beautiful because you have a nappy mane sitting on top of a brain that allows you to create and behold you own thoughts and opinions. If she wants to perm it or straighten it after she turns 18 that's fine. But for the 18 years that I own and raise her...she will understand that her beauty goes beyond her hair and looks.

And she'll always know that I will never be ashamed of her hair...nappy or not.