The Hair Journey

As I take a break from installing mini-twists (and question my sanity for ever beginning), I thought it would only be natural to end Black History Month with some hair talk. Black women make up the overwhelming majority of spenders when it comes to hair care--its not often you'll find one of us out in public without our hair done. So you would think we'd know all about our hair, right?

When I was little, I got 90% of my spankings over my hair. It would take hours to wash my hair then even more hours to dry it. My mom would then detangle my hair--yes, she detangled my hair dry! :( -- which would take another hour and usually around the time I'd get popped with the brush. Finally she'd give me some pigtails and set me free. Of course by this time the day was done and my head would hurt. Below is a picture of me as little girl; it's a little hard to see my hair but it's the best I could find...

Sunday Church--To Go or Not to Go

Every Sunday my Twitter and Facebook feeds all say the same thing. Everybody feels the need to tell the world they went to church and post a picture of their Sunday get-up. Some people just post the basics: that they went, where they went, that they had a good time, who they went with. Other people use the moment to "remind" people that they "should" be going to church or to encourage people that the voice telling them not to go is "the devil."

Why am I bringing this up? My opinion on this stems from a long journey, so it might take more than one post to explain it, but let's give it a try shall we? 

The Beginning

In order to discuss any religious practice, you have to start at the beginning--it only makes sense. So the beginning of Sunday Church springs from the 5th commandment (for Protestants)

Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy (Exodus 20:8 KJV)

or the 3rd commandment (for Catholics) sited here:

Remember to keep holy the LORD's day  

This is the basis sited for why most Christians attend church on Sunday. However, two questions arise from this point: what does it actually mean to keep the Sabbath day holy and when is the Sabbath?

Black History Month Tribute pt. 3

The final part of my expression of black history month. Part 1 is an expression of me when I was really young (roughly birth through middle school). Part 2 covers most of high school. Part 3 occurred gradually from my senior year of high school until present day. So in essence, this is the evolution of me.

III. Emancipated

As storms roll across the sky,
Raindrops pelt my branches
Lightning tickles my spine
And I melt away in the rolling drops—
I take flight above my tree-top
And the world disappears beneath me.
Their opinion burns as the lightning strikes
Red fire.  Gold flames.
     Orange and yellow dancing
     To the beat of a lioness’ roar

Black History Month Tribute pt. 2

II. Enlightened

But my roots run deep
Twisting and turning,
Entangled in the lost legacy…
She told me to rise
         Because I have the strength
She told me to go where I've never been
         Because I have the vision
She told me to sit when I’m at my limit
         Because I’m not invincible
She told me to take control, claim my own power
Because I am.

Black History Month Tribute pt. 1

Every year during Black History Month I reflect: on well-known people, the forgotten heroes, the unsung heroes. I reflect on my own experiences, the experiences pasted down from my elders, and I ask myself what does it mean to be Black?  How has it changed me? This year it's a three part tale...

I. Enslaved

I was born color-blind;

I came out of the womb that way…

This rainbow of color was forced upon my mind

Not an instant process, but slowly over time.

The girl in my class—

               The one I saw everyday

I don’t know what possessed her,

I don’t know what suddenly changed!

But she submerged my head in the sea of colors

Their brightness blinding my blinded eyes

And I drowned somewhere beneath its colored tide