Hair Stories
from How Dare the Sun Rise: Memoirs of a War Child
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I was learning about shades of black in America, and about how your skin tone determines where you stand on the beauty scale. American's are so nutty about physical appearance and what defines beauty. Basically, the lighter skinned you are, and the smaller and straighter your nose is, the "prettier" you are.
I also began to understand why hair is such an important issue for African American women. I learned why the black girls in school didn't let their hair grow naturally, but instead always straightened or relaxed it. My black friends explained that since they werre already considered second tier to white women in the looks department, it was important not to have unruly hair. Black hair, in its natural state, is "nappy" and disorderly, they told me. They said, "You can't have your natural hair out." They said black women have to keep their hair tidy and straight, like white women, if they want to be taken seriously at work and in school. Again, I said, "What? This is crazy."
I also began to understand why hair is such an important issue for African American women. I learned why the black girls in school didn't let their hair grow naturally, but instead always straightened or relaxed it. My black friends explained that since they werre already considered second tier to white women in the looks department, it was important not to have unruly hair. Black hair, in its natural state, is "nappy" and disorderly, they told me. They said, "You can't have your natural hair out." They said black women have to keep their hair tidy and straight, like white women, if they want to be taken seriously at work and in school. Again, I said, "What? This is crazy."
from It's Trevor Noah: Born a Crime: Stories from a South African Childhood
by Trevor Noah
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This passage is an excerpt from It's Trevor Noah by Trevor Noah.
Bongani dragged me to a second salon. I sat down in the chair, and the woman took my hair and started painting this creamy white stuff in it. She was wearing rubber gloves to keep the chemical relaxer off her own skin, which should have been my first clue that maybe this wasn't such a great idea. Once my hair was full of the relaxer, she told me, "You have to try to keep it in for as long as possible. It's going to start burning. When it starts burning, tell me and we'll rinse it out. But the longer you can handle it, the straighter your hair will become."
I wanted to do it right, so I sat in the chair and waited and waited for as long as I could. She should have told me to tell her when it started tingling, because by the time it was actually burning it had already taken off several layers of my scalp. I started to freak out. She rushed me over to the sink and started to rinse the relaxer out. What I didn't know is that the chemical doesn't really start to burn until it's being rinsed out. I felt like someone was pouring liquid fire onto my head. When she was done, I had patches of acid burns all over my scalp. |
"Hairs" from The House on Mango Street
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vignette
~ a brief description that brings strong images, memories, or feelings to mind |
"Hairs" by Sandra Cisneros
Everybody in our family has different hair. My Papa's hair is like a broom, all up in the air. And me, my hair is lazy. It never obeys barrettes or bands. Carlos' hair is thick and straight. He doesn't need to comb it. Nenny's hair is slippery--slides out of your hand. And Kiki, who is the youngest, has hair like fur. But my mother's hair, my mother's hair, like little rosettes, like little candy circles all curly and pretty because she pinned it in pincurls all day, sweet to put your nose into when she is holding you, holding you and you feel safe, is the warm smell of bread before you bake it, is the smell when she makes room for you on her side of the bed still warm with her skin, and you sleep near her, the rain outside falling and Papa snoring. The snoring, the rain, and Mama's hair that smells like bread. |
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Create a 2-paragraph vignette telling your family "hairageous" or "hairror" story.
Check your style...
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