Strong Hair

In an earlier blog, I wrote: “Looking back, I have to ask myself why I thought an afro was the antithesis of femininity. I admit that while I loved the freedom of my afro, I still felt like I HAD to wear nice makeup, and cute jewelry whenever I went out in public. In other words, my hair was not cute on its own merit; I now had to be accessorized in order to look feminine and pulled together. Ouch. This is painful to admit and see in writing.”

This is disturbing to read. It is so clear that I’d bought into the prevailing beauty standards about my hair and about me. I had yet to learn how to appreciate the strength of my hair. I found this poem by Sharon Harvey Rosenberg that beautifully depicts the strength and resilience of tightly coiled hair (http://www.endarkenment.com/hair/poetry/rosenberg/coilcomb.htm). I plan to read it to my children and my nieces tonight. I hope you can share with those you know too.

Coil vs. Comb by Sharon Harvey Rosenberg

Tight curls

wound like small coils

in a retractable pen

have no patience

for hard plastic combs

with jagged seams

and sharp teeth

biting

through the dense spirals

spinning

around my head.

Snapped, my naps snap back.

Tugged,

the tight texture tenses

against those little teeth.

And with vengeance,

my hair

breaks combs

into plastic

pieces.

And the coils spring back.

Like the spring in my pen

held in knowing fingers,

twisting strands of lines.

Forming follicle phrases from:

Curls coiled in S's, O's and Z's

Spelling my hair free

in long hand.