July 18, 2005
lazy, hazy, days of summer
I admit it. I am enjoying reading novels while I sit on the stationary bike; something I never thought would happen! But I digress...
I got my hands on a novel titled Nappily Ever After , (by Trisha R. Thomas) not to long ago at a sale that Borders was having. The synopsis on the back cover seemed interesting so I figured I'd purchase it in the hopes that It would live up to its promise. To say that this book accomplished that is an understatement! This novel is like a breath of fresh air on a humid wet day. While on the surface it appears to be an uncomplicated piece of prose, it manages to tackle issues of identity, race, gender; and how all of these things are linked to the colored woman's obsession with her hair. Sound silly? Not at all. While my personal experience with hair relaxers is limited, I will always remember the importance of the Sunday's of my youth (and church had nothing to do with it). Early in the afternoon my mother would gather up the biggest hair curlers known to humankind, align them beside the booby pins that were to be their companions for the next 24 hours, and make certain that the brush and comb were easily accessible to her hands. After washing my hair, I was expected to sit very still as my mother separated each section to be rolled, and methodologically ( and often magically) wrapped my long tresses around the pink, plastic rollers that were to elongate my curls into a state of obedience. Because I was young (this ritual was carried out from the age of 6 to 11), I refused to sit under the old fashioned hair dryers seldom seen today, but that meant I had to sleep with those things on my head; to remove them before morning would be to undo all of the "good" that they were accomplishing with my naturally curly hair. I was always good natured about it; like so many of us I didn't know any different. I too, grew up admiring the Breck girl and all that bounce and luster she seemed to be born with. As I got older blow dryers were invented, thus alleviating me of one torture in lieu of another: now the event was sans curlers, but the goal remained (and still remains) the same-to have nice, straight hair. Of course, there were years that I just wore my hair curly...perhaps out of rebellion to those who thought that my curls were more of a curse than a blessing because of the color of my skin. We all know that there is a difference between the Latina curl and the White girl curl, right? Still, I loved my curls and wore them well. Why are they no longer around? Simply because no woman likes to have the same hairstyle forever. But the years in which I chose to emancipate my curls helped me love the convenience of not having to use a blow dryer or curlers; so now when I feel like its too hot to be worried about "being Breck" (which is quite often in this heat), I know its okay to wear my curls, just like I know its okay not to In fact, I recently decided that I was going to let my hair get long again just so that I could wear it curly most of the time. And after reading this novel, I understand so much more about how others view the importance of hair as a (the?) defining tool of ethnic female beauty, and how much of what we (women) do to ourselves is more for others than ourselves. I like my hair just the way it is, on any given day, and that's my nappily ever after.
Posted by dvaldesd at 08:26 PM | Comments (0)