Me, My Hair, and I

by Shawneda

  “Nope.” Uncle Corey slid a slip of paper between the pages. “How is Breyonna?”

  I rocked from side to side. “She’s fine. We were just discussing the topic for this week’s takeover.”

  “Those seem to be going well. Need another ear?” Uncle Corey motioned for me to come sit and talk to him.

  I sat on the ottoman near my favorite stack of pillows. The victory pile where I beat him, Keylisa, and Aunt Tanya playing video games on the regular. “Can’t hurt. Right?”

  “We’ll see.”

  I took in a deep breath. “These girls at the school were talking about straightening my hair being a problem because it’s assimilating to European culture. We live in America. I’ve never seen an episode of Downtown Libby or any other shows from the UK. So I told them they were crazy. But they made some good points about the health risks of chemically straightening my hair.”

  “Assimilating into European… Okay.” Uncle Corey leaned toward me. “They’re not saying you want to move to London. More about the desire to be accepted by people of European descent or what Americans have coined as ‘white people’. She’s saying you want to look like them and be like them to be successful.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s stupid. Not wanting to spend hours on my hair is a decision based on not wanting to waste my time on something unimportant. They were saying I was trying to be like the reality television family that only dates black men. Breyonna told me there are some guys who only date white girls or light skinned girls with relaxers or straighter hair like the reality tv family.”

  Uncle Corey chuckled. He closed his eyes. “The woke crew?”

  I nodded.

  “The woke crew leader--”

  “Knowledge is the name of the girl who did all the talking.”

  Uncle Corey’s eyes lit up. “Knowledge Steele. I know her family. They are a bit intense in how they present their views. However, she isn’t too far off. You’re both right. Some black men prefer women with lighter skin and straight hair. Unaware of the impact of media and having European beauty forced upon them from birth, they develop a preference.”

  “What?” I dropped my head in shame. Knowledge was right about me? “You didn’t. Aunt Tanya has had locs for as long as I remember. When you started dating, her hair hung down her back.”

  Uncle Corey chuckled again. “I won’t lie to you, JeShaun. Your Aunt Tanya’s hair did attract me. So did her beautiful skin and smile.”

  “Oh.” I turned my head away. Which relaxer had the least toxic ingredients?

  Uncle Corey tapped my knee. “I fell in love with her as a person. She changed her hair before we were engaged. Without asking me. I didn’t care.”

  “Really?”

  “Most men are visual. We’re attracted to and like what we like. You can’t control that and shouldn’t make it personal. If you’re not some guy’s preference, that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him. Women have preferences, too. There is nothing wrong with knowing what you like and who you’re attracted to.”

  I shook my head. “So what do you do when your preference doesn’t prefer you or how you look?”

  “You respect their choice as an individual, work through your feelings and move on. Who they’re attracted to is not about you, it’s about them. Don’t get with someone you have to change to keep interested in you. Be with someone who appreciates you for who you are and doesn’t want to change you. Attraction is what leads to love. It’s the beginning, not the relationship.”

  I nodded. “Well, that’s good to know. Even though changing my hair isn’t about some guy, I’m glad you brought it up. Thanks, Uncle Corey.”

  “Anytime. Don’t change your hair, clothes, how you talk, or what you’re interested in to attract a guy. Those things will change over time. Because we’re always evolving and growing as people. The essence of who you are doesn’t change. You want someone who can see beyond all the temporary things and love you for just being Je.”

  “You’re not going to like all the effort it takes to keep it straight.” Aunt Tanya said.

  I felt my shoulders drop. “Okay.”

  “I’m saying yes. Just warning you that having your hair silkened will be more trouble than you think hair is worth.”

  My arms wrapped around Aunt Tanya’s shoulders. I planted a big kiss on her cheek. After one more quick squeeze, I let her go. “Thank you, Aunt Tanya.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I enjoyed the moment where we felt like us again. Us pre-IG rant.

  “So that’s a yes?” Brielle said.

  Aunt Tanya nodded.

  “Let’s do this.” I clapped my hands together with my version of a squeal. “We haven’t silkened my hair in years.”

  I reached into my locker for my tryout gear. Coach Chandra made everyone tryout every year. Elected captain or not, I had to get out there and prove my value to the team like everyone else. Then if I made the cut, I’d be able to lead the volleyball team. My hair swished and panic covered every inch of my body. I pulled out my phone and pressed *2.

  “What’s wrong?” Aunt Tanya said.

  I froze. She told me I’d hate having my hair straight. “Hi Aunt Tanya. You busy?”

  “You never call me during the day, Je. What’s wrong?”

  I gulped. “My volleyball tryouts are today. Can you tell me how to… what to do with… Aunt Tanya, please come help me. I won’t make it back in time.”

  “This is why I wanted you to get a driver’s license.” Aunt Tanya sucked her teeth. “Brielle, let me finish her. Your goddaughter has a silkened hair crisis.”

  I heard rustling in the background. “Brielle said she is to blame she forgot you had tryouts this week. I’m not allowed to say anything other than she is on the way.”

  My lungs functioned again. “Okay.”

  “She’ll be there in about ten minutes. Knock their socks off. You got this, Captain.” Aunt Tanya said.

  I realized how much I missed talking to my Aunt Tanya. “Thank you.”

  “Okay. I have two heads to do now instead of one. Thanks to you. Go kill’em on the court.” Aunt Tanya said before I heard a click. The screen read ‘call ended.’

  Ten minutes later, Breyonna walked up to me. “Your hair has looked great all week. Why do you look so weird?”

  “Brielle is on her way to help me do whatever you do to silkened hair when you’re about to sweat, so it doesn’t go back.” I sighed. “This whole straight hair thing is easier when you have a relaxer.”

  Breyonna laughed. “We both know you’re not getting a relaxer. So you need to do some more research on protein treatments.”

  “Yeah, no one thought I’d tell my Aunt I don’t want to be a hair model for her anymore on IG so… Y’all need to stop thinking you know what JeShaun will and won’t do.” My phone buzzed. “Brielle is here to fix my hair. I’ll be back.”

  ---

  I killed the volleyball tryout. Like, mopped the floor with the drills and showed off the new serve I spent all summer perfecting in the park in walking distance to our house. Coach Chandra announced my captain role before we left for the day to the new students who tried out. Breyonna told me she’d meet me at the house to celebrate when I texted her before getting on the after school activity bus to ride home.

  I killed the tryout but the pull your brains through your scalp tighter than skin ponytail Brielle put in my hair almost killed me. Who walked around in this much pain to be cute? Not I. Keeping hair straight while natural and active had to have other options.

  Breyonna, Brielle, Ms. Ebonee, and Aunt Tanya welcomed me into the shop with a tray of celebratory cupcakes from my favorite bakery. There were little volleyballs on top of each one and the word captain in Gold on top of the jumbo yellow one.

  “Congratulations, Captain!” Breyonna screamed as she handed me a card and the cupcake.

  I accepted the cupcake and her quick squeeze. “Wow, thanks.”

  “We didn’t wa
nt to jinx it, but we have your letterman’s jacket and order the captain patch too.” Aunt Tanya pulled the jacket from behind her back. “We’re so proud of you. You look really cute too. Brielle’s ponytail looks great on you.”

  I placed the cupcake and card on the table near Aunt Tanya’s stylist station. Moments later, I slipped into the letterman’s jacket I’d dreamed of wearing since freshman year. “Wow, this is… wow.”

  “So, how you feel?” Brielle clasped her hands together in front of her.

  A few tears rolled down my cheeks. “My head hurts so bad. I mean this ponytail is killing me.”

  Everyone looked at each other before laughing. Not just chuckles. Reach for the nearest thing to hold you up, belly laughs.

  “I’m serious.” I pointed toward the still perfect except for a few cowlicks ponytail on my head. “The drills and other stuff we did were nothing compared to the pounding this thing caused. Focusing on the drills and doing my best is how I kept from yanking this thing out.”

  Aunt Tanya tried to talk. She just waved her hands before laughing again.

  “You wear updos all the time, JeShaun.” Breyonna wiped the corners of her eyes.

  I shook my head. “No, these are not updos. This is way more than I want to deal with on a regular basis. We can go back to my minnie mouse puffs and my other styles. No, thank you.”

  “If you keep getting it silkened and train your hair. You’ll be able to keep it straight while being an athlete after about a year.” Brielle tried to keep from chuckling.

  My hands flew to my hips. Despite all of my efforts to stare Brielle and Aunt Tanya down, I smiled. Then I started laughing too.

  “I tried to tell you it’s more trouble than you’ll think hair is worth. Brielle made me promise not to say I told you so. So I won’t say it.” Aunt Tanya picked up a cupcake with a smirk.

  Brielle gave Aunt Tanya the side eye. “You mean the way you just did.”

  “I only have a few more days this week with my hair straight. No practice tomorrow, but I do have to run drills with the new players on Friday. You’ll show me how to put this up in a tight bun?” I sighed.

  Brielle nodded. “Yep, and we’ll talk about some styles that you can wear next week, too.”

  I felt my stomach lurch into my throat. My hands dug through every inch of my volleyball bag. No. No, I did not leave my ponytail kit from Brielle in my room.

  I took a shower. Applied my moisturizer. Put on my clothes. Combed down my wrap. Poured sweet almond oil into my hand. Ran my hands under the bottom of my hair on the sides and in the back. Poured more sweet almond oil into my hand. Combed my fingers through the front and sides of my hair. Poured a bit more sweet almond oil into my hand. Wiped the palms of my hands over the crown of my head and top layer of the back of my hair until they were dry.

  Pulled the ponytail kit from the top drawer. Placed my backpack under the ponytail kit to make sure I didn’t forget it. Went downstairs to eat breakfast. Brushed my teeth. Heard my Aunt Tanya yell she saw the bus coming down the road. Spit out my toothpaste. Rinsed out my mouth. Grabbed my backpack, bolted down the stairs, then shot across the street to meet the bus.

  Tears of frustration filled my eyes. My ponytail kit is still waiting on top of my dresser in my closet to be placed in my backpack. I have three hours of practice and no brush, no ponytail holder, and no pomade. All the things people said about my hair all week will be forgotten once I leave practice looking like a toilet bowl brush by the head.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  “Girl, I have been calling your name for like two minutes.” Breyonna said. “You okay?”

  I turned around.

  “You’re def not okay.” Breyonna looked at the bag in my hand. “What happened? Keylisa good? Your Uncle? Your Aunt?”

  I nodded.

  “So why are you about to cry? You never cry, JeShaun.” Breyonna took a step closer to me.

  I dropped my head. She never sees me cry. Contrary to popular belief, I cried all the time. “My hair is about to go all poof. I left the ponytail kit at home. This is why I want a friggin relaxer.”

  “Girl, I gotchu.” Breyonna sighed. “Let’s go to my locker. We’ll find what you need there.”

  I sniffed the tears up and stuffed them down. “K.”

  “So I have some of your Aunt’s pomade, my backup brush, and we can try this rubber band.” Breyonna motioned for me to turn around. “Don’t have anything else.”

  I bent down and leaned my hands on my knees to make myself short enough for Breyonna to pull my hair into a ponytail. The tightness didn’t feel the same as Aunt Tanya or Brielle. Still a better job than I’d do with nothing. My shoulders relaxed. “Thank you. All I have to do is make it through practice.”

  “Call you later. Gotta run to make my bus.” Breyonna gave me a quick, love you girl hug, before closing her locker.

  I twisted the combo lock for good measure before running to my locker to grab my volleyball bag.

  Sweat started pooling in my hair thirty minutes into practice. Where did I look for a stylist to silken my hair while in school away from home? Then the pools of water joined together and started flowing all over my head. Is there a national directory? Dribbles in the front. How did I pick someone who knew how to heat train hair? Small streams poured down through each of the faint patches of hair on the side of my face. Did I really want to be one of those girls who didn’t leave the house because of the weather? Aunt Tanya called them lady sideburns. I’d be black no matter how I wore my hair. Did that mean I had to have whack hair between salon visits during volleyball season?

  My roots grew thicker with each drill. Forty-eight minutes into the first hour of practice, my hair swelled into a bee’s hive. Each drill, serve, spike, and block puffing it up just a bit more. Coach didn’t seem to notice, but I noticed. My reaction time felt a second off. A second in volleyball can cost you the win.

  Moments after finishing our first water break, I decided to stop letting my hair distract me. Score another point for Aunt Tanya. She said I’d hate being silkened. Bouncing from side to side, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline as I prepared to spike the ball coming towards me. I felt my feet leave the ground and the power rush through my entire body as I willed the energy to pour from every fiber of my being into my hand. I sent the ball across the net with a forceful blow guaranteed to land within centimeters of the line.

  My feet hit the ground as the rubber band Breyonna used to secure my hair snapped. Disgust filled every fiber of my being. I kept my word to myself and finished the last part of practice unbothered by whatever was happening as sweat assaulted each strand of my silkened hair. I refused to look in a mirror after practice. I yanked my hoodie on over my top and kept the hood over my mess of a hairstyle. No one attempted to enter my earbud powered cocoon on the bus ride home.

  We passed the park where I loved to pitch a net and practice volleying every day during the summer. The ice cream parlor where I discovered I preferred cherry lime surprise to rocky road. Each red light my hair grew bigger. I mumbled goodnight to the bus driver as I scraped by to exit the bus. Soon as Aunt Tanya saw my hair, I’d be forced to acknowledge the truth. After I listened to her gloat, I’d call Breyonna to share my big hair blues.

  5

  I checked the recording equipment. Aunt Tanya showed me how to use the lights for the rainy days. To my surprise, she didn’t even gloat. After making sure I practiced well, I detected a tiny smirk but no lecture. No lecture. No snappy one-liner. Nothing. Uncle Corey told me I needed to work through this online since I started it online. Except we still weren’t back to the way we’d been before I told her the truth. Grownups say they want something, then treat you bad when you give them what they want. Weirdos.

  “Uncle Corey,” I popped my head into the living room. “You have a minute? I have a few more questions about our last talk.”

  His hands stilled on the keyboard. He paused the video game. “Is this a pause or save an
d come back follow up.”

  “I’d save and come back.” I gulped. “But that’s just me.”

  Uncle Corey nodded. His mouse moved and fingers flew across the keyboard for a few moments. The quiet of the house surrounded us as he turned around.

  “Can you come down to the salon with me?”

  Uncle Corey cocked his head to the side.

  “Please.”

  Uncle Corey stood with a sigh.

  “Thank you.”

  Moments later we were seated in the chairs positioned in front of the lights.

  Uncle Corey gave me a smile.

  “Wait, I forgot the little remote.” I stood and took a step toward Aunt Tanya’s desk.

  He cleared his throat. “You need that for?”

  “Recording the takeover this week. I need to ask you a few more questions.”

  Uncle Corey rubbed his hands on the front of his pants. “I see. You don’t want to take notes?”

  “You sound better explaining this than I will writing it down. I’ve tried.”

  Uncle Corey’s shoulders sagged. “Alright.”

  “Alright?” My face lit up.

  Uncle Corey straightened his spine. He crossed one ankle over the top of the opposite knee. “Alright.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Corey.” I gave his neck a quick squeeze before sitting down next to him. After checking my new hairstyle and lip gloss in the mirror across from the chairs, I pressed record. “Hi Curious Crew. Welcome back to Ask Tanya B. It’s JeShaun again. I want to introduce you to my Uncle Dad aka Uncle Corey.”

  Uncle Corey gave a short, nervous wave to the camera.

  “We’ve been talking about the importance of making decisions about my hair for me.” I took in a deep breath. “Each time I sat down to write out what he told me, I froze. Last week I wore my hair silkened down my back to school for the first time. Not gon lie. The attention, compliments, and looks from boys felt great. For a bit. Having my hair swell up and messing up at volleyball practice felt horrible.”