Hair Wars: Moments with my Daughter

I am raising a brown skinned girl. She is the darkest in our immediate family. I am lighter-skinned, something she points out to me often. Further, my daughter's hair is beautifully thick. Her skin and her hair are often points of conflict for her--even in her innocent 5 year old mind. Here is a snippet of some early morning conversations preparing for school last year:

Her: I want my hair in a ponytail.
Me: Ok. Like a puff.
Her: No, not a puff. A ponytail. Like straight.
Me: Well, your hair isn't straight honey.
Her: But I want a straight ponytail.
Me: I can give you a ponytail, but it won't be straight. I will be puffy at the ends.
Her: Oooook. *defeat in her voice*

Some six months ago, my daughter would be in tears, insisting that her style of choice was attainable. Often times my daughter will insert comments about her "vanilla friend" whose hair is straight and that's who she wants to look like. After I silently gasp, I stoop to down to her to ensure we are eye to eye, and tell her hair is perfect because God made it, versatile in all its kinkiness.

This past spring, she was begging to get her hair straightened for my wedding, and I almost folded. But I decided she wasn't ready. She had not fully grasped, appreciated or become confident in her hair in its natural state. Some say its just hair. And I would agree. But for whatever reason, a woman's hair is her crown, her glory, a point of confidence. And I knew the source of her wanting her hair straightened was because of the image she saw from another race. How profound that such an ideal exists to a 5 year old! Never mind her mother wearing natural styles or her other brown skinned friends doing the same. She wanted straight her because Elizabeth or Sara had such. Her image of beauty was jaded.

So we comprised on a cute twisted up do for the wedding. A few weeks later, she wore yarn braids for the entire summer. I'm pretty sure she was paid a compliment everyday about her hair while wearing those braids. So imagine my surprise (and delight!) when she requested a puff for the first day of school this year! She was confident and excited about her hair that day!

Trinity's first day of Kindergarten

So for now, this battle is won. And it's a win for both of us. For me, to know the lesson I was striving is being taught and perfected. But mainly for her. To embrace and be confident in what God has given her. Now, she comments positively on another brown girls puff. "Just like mine, Mom." That's right, just like yours, its perfect. Because everything God makes is perfect.

Peace.

Labor Pains

"Writin' for my life 'cause I'm scared of a day job." - Common. They Say, Be.

I remember hearing this lyric for the first time. Hair on arms raised, chills through my body. THAT'S the type of dedication I wanted to put into my writing. To be so fearful not to get caught up the mundane, check-to-check living that writing would become my fuel (and paycheck) for life. And to be so fearless that no one could talk me out of living the life my imagination birthed to reality--no matter how abnormal or unpredictable a writer's life can be.

But today, I'm writing my first published blog post in MONTHS. I'm working to finalize a children's book and I have 100+ pages of a novel in limbo. Projects started but not finished, ideas imagined but fed with no action therefore remaining fiction. My day job is rewarding but draining and the schedule most times does not coincide with my family's lifestyle. I find myself attempting to fit reading, writing, literacy, self-worth, self-actualization and all things related into any/every job I have. Fact is, until I do it, I'll be searching for it. Until these things are an everyday, integral part of my work, I'll be seeking after it. So, it's time to get serious.

On this first Monday of September--Labor Day--my day job allows me the day off. But tonight, I'm laboring through these words to feed my spirit. Laboring through sleepiness, dishes waiting in the sink, lunch to be packed and clothes needing to be ironed...all for tomorrow. Tomorrow can wait, there's work to do today. My passion has been waiting long enough. I've talked myself out of writing on my blog for reasons that include but are not limited to:

"The blog is not the right format."
"I need to develop more of a niche."

However, in order to be a writer...you must first WRITE!

There can be no criticism of my layout or content without words on pages for people to read. No excuses. It's time for me to get serious! The layout might change, name might change but these words in my head can't stop, won't stop!

I. Will. Write.

The key to writing is...to write.

Love what you do, and do what you love.