My Hair, My “Hairitage”
Growing up as a girl I was made to believe my hair enhanced my beauty. I was made to believe my hair was like an accessory to be worn during special occasions like Christmas and Easter. During these times, my mother applied hair relaxers on my hair in the name of relaxing my hair to make it longer and softer. I recall the cream burning my scalp and she used to say the longer it burns the better…
A Call for Hair Care-givers: A Letter to the Hair Stylist who Destroyed my Hair
The saddest part of my story creeps in here. After you placed the cap on my head, you told me that you needed to rush to the store to pick up something, and that you wouldn’t take long. You said you would be back before I would even notice. Being an innocent child and being excited about the afternoon ahead of me, I didn’t mind. After fifteen minutes, you were nowhere to be seen. My scalp began burning since the chemical had overstayed on my head and had started eating up my hair follicles, destroying their strength and warming my scalp. During all of this, at this very nice salon other stylists were around. I tried calling one of the stylists to care for me, but they were all busy with their own clients.
Where did the Magic go?: Natural Hair is “Hard” Hair in Ghana
As an African American woman, I’ve had my own natural hair journey in the U.S. But I also started a different hair journey in Ghana when I first visited in 2009. In 2010 I had my first and last relaxer in a salon in Ghana. On many of my additional visits to Ghana I had my hair either cornrowed, braided or twisted with extensions— we all know how economical (for us) hair braiding is on the continent in comparison to the U.S.
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