Black Magick

Put Some JuJu On My Nappy Hair

In middle school is when I really started to notice my hair was different. I wasn't the only black girl at my school but there weren't a lot of us just a handful and we all were friends. The school was mostly Hispanic and white and the kids had hairstyles I'd seen on tv and in the princess cartoons. Their hair was so straight and soft and mine felt like sheep's wool.

The day I had finally had enough was when this girl Cristela Reyes teased me about not being able to come my hair without crying. That was the last straw I remember going home, crying telling my mom how much I hated my hair and how I wanted to change it.

When everyone was sleeping I went into the bathroom cabinet and pulled out my mother's relaxer cream and rubbed almost all of it into my hair. I waited up until the sun rose and when I looked into the mirror I was elated at what I saw. My hair was straight and long, I could flip it around, put it in a ponytail, and wear pigtails if I wanted. Despite the fact I stayed up till the crack of dawn I was too excited to be any kind of tired. All I wanted to do was strut my stuff into class and show Cristela Reyes and all those other kids how long my hair was, and I did.

That whole week I decided to wear my hair straight until the worst thing happened...it all broke off. I screamed and then I cried profusely, I couldn't believe what had just happened I was beyond mortified. I ran into the living to show my mom and grandma and they gave me looks of pity.

"Let this be a lesson girl" my grandmother said in a stern voice "Don't you ever try and change your natural beauty"

That night my mom held me in her arms and told me over and over again how beautiful my hair really is.

For almost a month my class called me "little boy" because of my then short hair but I ignored them, I had already beat up half the boys in class and the girls were too prissy to step to my face and make fun of me. I honestly just wanted my hair to grow back I didn't care if it was straight or not, I started to miss running my hands over my hair and playing with the thick kinks and curls.

When I got home one day my mother and grandmother sat me down in the kitchen, the house was filled with smells of a beautiful aroma I knew too well...cocoa butter. One the stove I saw my grandmother mixing olive oil and coconut oil in a small pot on the kitchen table my mother wiped my hair comb with Argan oil while chanting a prayer. "Go get a bowl and put some water in it, hon" my mother said, I did what I was told and when I sat back down my grandmother came over and placed the steaming pot near the bowl of water and placed her hands in the water.

"Bring your head here" said my grandmother, I scooted my chair over to here and she ran her cool, wet hands over my head. As my grandmother stopped my mom brushed my hair with the oiled comb "Think about how wonderful it would feel to have your hair back hon" said my mother sweetly. I then closed my eyes and envisioned my hair and all of its glory ~ I imagined it in so many styles as an Afro, in braids, Bantu knots, pigtail buns, and in every beautiful fashion I could think up. Then one of them I don't know who, massaged my scalp with the hot oil mixture. It didn't burn but the heat felt relaxing on my scalp.

When I opened my eyes I saw my mother and grandmother looking me with smiles of accomplishment on their faces "What happened?" I asked, then, my mother took a hand mirror and held it to my face. I was astonished to find what was looking back at me with surprise. The girl in the mirror looked exactly like me but her hair was long and wild. I touched the top of my head and found that I couldn't feel my scalp anymore, I felt the thickness of curls and kinks between my fingers.

That night I danced and pranced around the house claiming that I had gotten my beautiful "crown" back.

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"I am not my hair, I am not this skin, I am the soul that lives within" - India.Arie