Erin Rausaw,
Growing up, I was taught that beauty is pain while my Memama (grandmother) pressed my hair in her beauty shop. She would tell me how beautiful I was, as she instructed me to shake my hair. “Shake your hair pretty girl.”
When you see my hair in it’s curly or fro state, it is not for you to run your hands through it. I understand, it’s beautiful but admire it from afar and keep your hands and all other objects to yourself while looking at it.
When I think about belonging, I think about how important it is to me to express myself with my words, clothes, hair and makeup so the next time you ask to touch a black woman’s hair. Take a step back and ask yourself how it would feel if she asked to touch yours.
Would you cringe? Feel out of place? Weirded out maybe? Those are all of the emotions and expressions I feel whenever someone touches my hair without my permission.
