As six of you know, I’m dedicating all of my posts this month to blacks I admire, in honor of Black History Month. I was at a bit of a loss when I began to think about this week’s post. There have been several newsworthy events in black culture over the past week.
The first, and most obvious choice for this blog, would be to write about the newly released pictures of Blue Ivy Carter. Believe me the thought crossed my mind. But honestly, I’m almost certain the baby in those pictures is a computer-generated image photoshopped into Beyonce’s smooth and still-toned arms. Nay, I thought. This baby bores me.
The second event in black culture that might be a topic for this week was the death of Whitney Houston. However, I don’t do well with death. Many may be surprised to know that it actually makes me sad, and I don’t like to make fun of it. This blog is not meant to be a downer, so again I proclaimed: Nay. I then proceeded to sing “I Will Always Love You,” note for note, in the shower. Are these tears or just shower water?
I finally, and selfishly, decided to write about myself and my current plight: going natural.
As many of you may have noticed, there is something wrong with my hair as of late. Well, the naps are intentional. I decided a while ago that I no longer wanted to get a relaxer (white people, a relaxer is when a black person puts chemicals into his or her hair to make it more…white). The last time I got one was in April of last year.
Cut to now: 10 months later. I just moved to Brooklyn, a haven for natural hair. Now that I am here, I feel much more confident about the state of my head. Natural hair is to black people what sustainable energy is to white people (I don’t actually know what sustainable energy is. You can try to explain it to me, and I’ll nod like I’m listening, but I’ll actually be singing “Just One of Those Days” by Monica in my head).
But still, I’m having a bit of a time. Even 10 months later, remnants of the relaxer are holding on for dear life, saying “What about me?” and “Be pretty again!” At present, my hair is about half relaxed and half natural. This looks absolutely ridiculous at times. I am tempted to chop off the relaxer, but as we know, I’m not adventurous AT ALL. Deciding to stop getting relaxer nearly gave me an ulcer. Cutting my hair on top of it would probably be much to much for me.
I went to Carol’s Daughter in November, where I spent approximately $7,500 for natural hair care products to aid in transitioning. I don’t know if the products are working or not, but they gave me cookies and flavored chips in the Fort Greene store, so I like them.
Additionally, I have learned the beauty of the blow out. At the end, my hair looks just as it did when I got a relaxer, only I can scratch my head as much as I want beforehand, and the Dominican lady yells at me. It’s great.
In a year, my hair will probably look totally different than today. I have no idea what it will look like, but it’ll be different.
This post goes out to all the brave, black women who’ve made the decision to go natural. I see you everyday on the streets and subways, and you look hot. It is only because of you that I have the courage to walk around with my head looking like this. If my hair doesn’t end up looking really awesome like yours, I’m going to be PO’d. I won’t know what to do with my hair, and I’ll have to get a lace front wig to mask the pain.