White Dreads

The same boredom that caused me to shave off all my curls now has compelled me to sit on a woman’s porch for roughly 8 hrs. while she sewed extensions into my hair. I now have a head of fake hair in the form of tiny braids that have this tasteful way of fading from dark brown to red. Besides the fact that it is sort of gross when one of the braids falls out, I have been re-thinking my choice to spend a good part of two days having fake hair sewn into my own hair that will grow back, albeit probably not in neat tiny braids that fade from black to red.

Back in the states dreads on white people bothered me. I remember in high school I had a teacher who when we were discussing a short story, she launched into a full discussion on hair. We talked about dreads on white people and my teacher remarked that as a woman of color it bothered her and that she felt that white people had stolen enough without claiming a hairstyle that their hair wouldn’t even naturally do. I feel that even if she was the only one who thought this, it would be worth it to never venture to dread the curls, and I know she’s not the only one. But now I have a head full of braids that though, are technically synthetic plasticy things, are also not typical white girl braids.

I was slightly hesitant going into this fake hair adventure, but what better way to community integrate than to sit at a hair salon in the form of a woman’s porch and hear and watch the many gathering women and children? That and, you know, the impatience of wanting a ponytail back. Of course I sat with some guilt as my scalp was pulled and tugged to accommodate for many braids and this guilt was exasperated when other women would ask what the stylist was doing and she replied that she was putting in dreads. Great, not like I didn’t have problems with guilt before, now I have paid someone to sew pieces of what I had previously labeled as “an assertion of white privilege and theft,” onto my head. sweet. On the other hand maybe it’s not such a bad reminder of the racism I struggle with; both its manifestation in me and it’s hoped for end. I think guilt can be a hindrance, but little pieces can be motivating as well, as long as you keep it under control.

The women gathered round me frequently asked if this process was hurting my scalp. Another woman who I knew previously kept saying “no, no, no, it doesn’t hurt that much, she’s just like us.” Well, I am and I am not. My scalp may have a similar amount of nerves, but its color differentiates me off from them in both big and small ways. Even if I just stick to hair and standards of beauty, I can’t ignore that the wigs that many of these women buy are much more like my natural hair than theirs. Even if one never buys one of these wigs it’s a different experience knowing your hair is to be imitated rather than hidden in imitation. Not all would say these wigs are beautiful and many would claim their own hair as beautiful, but is still different to have to fight for that. So maybe its ok that I have a zillion little braids that are much more disciplined than my curls, because its important to be reminded what is attached to unruly curls, braids, and dreads, in the fight to reclaim all beauty.

Tags: dreads, guilt, malawi, white