My Son's Hair

It started out innocent. I swear *holds hand to heart before angry mob*.
Dreadlocks are beautiful. Natural hair is beautiful. Any decision that you make in life that doesn't bring harm to anyone yet pleases you to no end is beautiful. And with that, it was decided before my son was even born that at some point in time I would allow his hair to lock up. If you're not familiar with Dreadlocks, it's a fascinating hair journey misunderstood by many. For those who have expectations for a certain look it requires much patience. Especially with black hair. Our hair is unpredictable and rebellious. The beauty salon will make quite a profit off of you if your desires include avoiding the "rough" beginning stages. I had no such desires. What appealed to me most was the free form version of locks in which you allow the hair to grow out with little intervention. The idea is that your hair is beautiful the way it is. Which usually translates to the idea that YOU are beautiful the way you are. A message that I want all of my children to carry with them through life. And thank God I the kind of mother that I am because my son would need that message imbedded in his heart sooner than I imagined. He's a handsome boy. Light skin with eyes that scream of Asian decent (he isn't....well not to my knowledge....the unfortunate history of my people means we are often born looking a variety of ways). There is a large portion of the Black community that considers this look enough to label someone aesthetically pleasing. A European ideal of beauty that dates back centuries. Oh but his hair...my God it's screams black child. Short length, nappy and uneven. There is this trend in my life where people nod in acknowledgement to the words that I say however only when I act on those very words do they find their actual voices. Strong opinions (that usually counteract mine) tumble out of their mouths in the face of the very action that moves them so. I respect it as I do most opinions. But they are just that. Opinions. Neither fact nor a factor towards my financial advancement in life. So when people began to politely hint that I should cut his hair, his father and I would politely stand our ground. They gave reasons that were so ridiculous, my cheeks would grow hot with shame for them.
"He's too cute"
"His hair looks dirty"
"He is a boy"
"It's not cute"
"I just don't like it on him"
Etc
The source of these unnecessary comments bothered me more than anything. They were worse than the comments I hear about Blu Ivy (I just can't with my people sometimes). No one outside of my race ever saw my son's hair as anything other than what it was. Hair on top of a toddler's head. Not one of my friends (I mean I don't have much but hey) felt the need to express their displeasure with the way his hair was styled. The source of all of this frustration came from the people I expected would understand me most. My son's family. His village. Paternal & maternal. The paternal side shocked me because of the obvious. Um, you know...They're Jamaican! I thought they would be proud to see him wear their culture on his head. Big fat no. Then of course some members of my family annoyed me greatly because well they should know me better than anyone. At least by now.  Many a time they would forgo questions about my son's health & developmental milestones and jump right into "Project Convince Storm to cut his hair". I've dealt with way too much to be hurt by such sentiments but man they were vexatious. So, yes, it pissed me off that a stranger could look at my child and see him for the cute little rambunctious boy that he is and members of my own family could would not. All they would see was his hair. Jeeez, get a grip people. What furthered my annoyance was the fact that it wasn't the dreadlock hairstyle that bothered them the most. It was the fact (and I'm pretty sure this is a fact) that if he had the kind of hair that that matched his "bi-racial" look, they wouldn't mind. It wouldn't offend their eyes so much. Well, I must say my son has never been affected by anyone's judgmental tone or words. I'm sure the whispers will continue however the questions/requests to me have not which I am so grateful for. So what began as pure innocence is now intentional. His father and I let him wear his hair as wild as it wants to be. My aspiration for him to get this particular message has exceeded my expectations because now he is the message. Strangers tell me that they love his hair; loves how happy he is in his own skin. My son has parents that take great care of him. You can usually find him wearing a bright smile to go along with that wild hair.














When I'm done twisting his hair (which I do when I er  when we feel), he says "Mommy wook! My hair! It's be-yoo-ti-ful". *cue that India Arie song please*

So I think he's more than ok with how he looks. He finds nothing wrong with the hair his parent's genetic make-up gave granted him. And what's more  be-yoo-ti-ful than all is that in the millions of photos I take of him, he looks and doesn't find a thing wrong with the way God has made him. Mission accomplished. I love you, LP.