Hair Stories

A few days ago, I launched a new social network called Hair Stories. Inspired by the many women I have come across online documenting their personal hair journeys, I decided to create a space where we could all (writers, poets, artists, people) artistically connect.

Everybody has a hair story. What's yours?


I've been natural for more than ten years. What does that mean? It means that I no longer chemically process or straighten my hair. Instead, I've chosen to rock my naturally thick, dark, kinky mane and I love it. It wasn't an easy transition, though. It was like blindly traveling into the unknown. I was very young when my mother first relaxed my hair. It was a relief then; I was so tenderheaded. My head would hurt just to have her look at it. But, since she was in charge of the combing during that time, I had no experience with styling it myself. Change, no matter how good it is, can also be frightening. Fear, however, didn't get the best of me-- it rarely does.



Visit hair stories

"Our hair is our crowning glory, or so we've been told. We talk about it, write about it, cry about it, India Arie even made a song about it. So, now there's a space for us to express ourselves- together."

Need a good book to accompany you on your journey? These are a few of my favorites.

R.I.P. Eartha Kitt (1927-2008)

"The river is constantly turning and bending and you never know where it's going to go and where you'll wind up. Following the bend in the river and staying on your own path means that you are on the right track. Don't let anyone deter you from that." ~Eartha Kitt

Fantastic Tales to Cozy Up with This Winter

Chicago's winters can be borderline cruel and unusual; this opinion of course coming from someone like myself who absolutely detest frigid cold weather. On those snowy nights when the temperature has plunged to 18 or below, you will find me curled up on my sofa, wrapped in my comfy blue robe, sipping green tea sweetened with Agave Nectar while deeply engaged in a fantastic tale. Sounds good, huh? Why not join me. Take a trip to your local library, bookstore or online bookseller to scoop up these great reads. Happy Holidays!

These novels, from some of the world's most gifted writers, top my must-read list for this winter.

A Golden Age by Tahmina Anam

As Rehana Haque awakes one March morning, she may be forgiven for feeling happy. Today she will throw a party for her son and daughter. In the garden of the house she has built, her roses are blooming; her children are almost grown up; and beyond their doorstep, the city is buzzing with excitement after recent elections. Change is in the air.

But none of the guests at Rehana's party can foresee what will happen in the days and months that follow. For this is East Pakistan in 1971, a country on the brink of war. And this family's life is about to change forever. ~ www.tahmima.com

A Mercy by Toni Morrison

"The stories in A Mercy are as layered and contested as the barely mapped topology traversed by its characters. Set in the 1680s, when this country's reliance on slavery as an economic engine was just beginning, A Mercy explores the repercussions of an enslaved mother's desperate act: She offers her small daughter to a stranger in payment for her master's debt." ~Neda Ulaby -Read more at NPR.org

Half of A Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

With astonishing empathy and the effortless grace of a natural storyteller, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie weaves together the lives of three characters swept up in the turbulence of the decade. Thirteen-year-old Ugwu is employed as a houseboy for a university professor full of revolutionary zeal. Olanna is the professor's beautiful mistress, who has abandoned her life of privilege in Lagos for a dusty university town and the charisma of her new lover. And Richard is a shy young Englishman in thrall to Olanna's twin sister, an enigmatic figure who refuses to belong to anyone. As Nigerian troops advance and they must run for their lives, their ideals are severely tested, as are their loyalties to one another. ~ www.halfofayellowsun.com

Trading Dreams At Midnight by Diane McKinney-Whetstone

"From Homer to Amy Tan, the multi-generational family saga is a time-tested vessel for the exploration of individual personalities. For every noble son, there’s another who steals his rival’s wife, and for every daughter who takes after her powerhouse mom, there’s another who’s inexplicably meek. Whatever their setting, and whatever their arc, the best of these stories wrestle with the questions of inheritance and the peculiar ways in which we differ from our kin." ~Katherine Hill -The Pennsylvania Gazette

New From The Author of The Prisoner's Wife, Asha Bandele Brings Us Another Powerful Story of Hope and Truimph

Award-winning journalist and author of two bestselling novels, The Prisoner's Wife and Daughter is back with another powerful memoir, Something Like Beautiful will be on sale January 29th, 2009.

Pre-order your copy today

When Asha Bandele, a young poet, fell in love with a prisoner serving a twenty-to-life sentence and became pregnant with his daughter, she had reason to hope they would live together as a family. Rashid was a model prisoner, and expected to be paroled soon. But soon after Nisa was born, Asha's dreams were shattered. Rashid was denied parole, and told he'd be deported to his native Guyana once released. Asha became a statistic: a single, black mother in New York City.

On the outside, Asha kept it together. She had a great job at a high-profile magazine and a beautiful daughter whom she adored. But inside, she was falling apart. She began drinking and smoking and eventually stumbled into another relationship, one that opened new wounds. This lyrical, astonishingly honest memoir tells of her descent into depression when her life should have been filled with love and joy. Something Like Beautiful is not only Asha's story, but the story of thousands of women who struggle daily with little help and much against them, and who believe they have no right to acknowledge their pain. Ultimately, drawing inspiration from her daughter, Asha takes account of her life and envisions for herself what she believes is possible for all mothers who thought there was no way out--and then discovered there was. (source: Product Description from HarperCollins.com)

Pre-order your copy today and check back here in the coming weeks for my comments and thoughts on the book. In the meantime, enjoy this lovely selection that I spotted on YouTube.

"Morning Was My Mentor" by Asha Bandele -Def Poetry, July 2002

Zora Neale Hurston Festival of the Arts and Humanities- January 20-25, 2009

Zora Neale Hurston

"Taking place the last week of January each year in Eatonville and throughout Orange County, Florida, this multi-day, multi-disciplinary event celebrates the life and work of 20th century writer, folklorist and anthropologist, Zora Neale Hurston; her hometown, Eatonville, the nation’s oldest incorporated African American municipality and the cultural contributions people of African ancestry have made to the United States and the world.

Attracting thousands of locals and tourists, ZORA! Festival presents an impressive roster of arts, humanities and cultural programming. The event features museum exhibitions, public talks, panel discussions, workshops and concerts.

It culminates with a three-day weekend Outdoor Festival of the Arts, which features everything from literacy programs for children; performances by local, regional and national acts; Juried Arts competitions, presenting fine artists with their original artwork in competition for cash prizes; an international marketplace, where visitors purchase wares from around the world, a health village, international food pavilion featuring an array of food options, and more.

The festival has featured luminaries such as actors, the late Ossie Davis, Miss Ruby Dee, Cicely Tyson, Danny Glover and Richard Roundtree; vocalists Al Jarreau, Jeffrey Osborne, Isaac Hayes, Najee, Bobby Womack, Freddie Jackson, Fred Hammond, Vickie Winans, Dr. Bobby Jones, writers, Alice Walker, Nikki Giovanni, Edwidge Danticat; poets Maya Angelou, Amiri Baraka and Ntozake Shange; distinguished scholars Dr. John Hope Franklin and Dr. Henry Louis Gates, Jr., and more." (source: www.zorafestival.com)

Learn more at www.zorafestival.com

Commentary on "Annie John" a Novel by Jamaica Kincaid

What makes a young girl who loves, adores and idolizes her mother the first ten years of her life, despise her the next?

This question came to mind while reading Jamaica Kincaid's, "Annie John," a novel about a young girl coming of age in the West Indies. Interestingly enough the antagonist's life bares an uncanny resemblance to that of the author's who like Annie John grew up in St. John, Antiqua. In her works, Kincaid explores with raw honesty the complicated nature of the relationship between mother and daughter.

Annie John is an only child who during her early years enjoyed the full loving attention of her mother, also named Annie, who never missed an opportunity to shower her with endless affection. She completely worshiped her the way most little girls do their mothers. Then one day, Annie arrived home early from school only to witness her parents making love. She didn't quite know what to make of it, but felt a bit put off. "I was sure I could never let those hands touch me again; I was sure I could never let her kiss me again. All that was finished," she thought. This may of been the first significant sign of betrayal that she felt by her mother.

It wasn't until upon hearing that she was "too old" for her favorite past time of spending the whole day going through her trunk, which her mother kept safe the memories of Annie John's special moments, that the young girl experienced deep feelings of hurt.

Annie John was twelve when her mother, informed her that she was becoming a young lady, and would now have to participate in activities appropriate for her age. From then on, it was war. The mere thought of things changing simply because she was growing older disappointed Annie John. She viewed her mother's new point of view as rejection and turned to mischievous ways as vengeance.

I suppose she felt much like I did when my mother told me that I was too old to play with dolls. I was eleven or twelve, and requested a doll on my Christmas list. My mother wasted no time in informing me that toys were no longer an option, and that I would only be receiving clothes ... "CLOTHES?!?" I remember thinking, "Is that it?" I struggled with a sense of "twoness." On the one hand I hated the thought of having to take on a new role as a "young lady," because it required me to give up so many of the things that I loved to do as a little girl. On the other hand, I longed to be an adult so that I could do things on my on terms and not be told what to do or how to act all of the time.

Annie John's childhood bond with her mother turned into a love-hate relationship that changed them forever. It's a great story. Every woman, especially if you're a mother should read it.


Works by Jamaica Kincaid:
* "Girl," poem (June 26, 1978, appeared in The New Yorker then again in 1984 in At the Bottom of the River)
* At the Bottom of the River (1984)
* Annie John (1985)
* A Small Place (1988)
* Annie, Gwen, Lilly, Pam, and Tulip (1989)
* Lucy (1990)
* Biography of a Dress (1990)
* "On Seeing England for the First Time," essay (1991, appeared in Harper's Magazine)
* The Autobiography of My Mother (1995)
* My Brother (1997)
* My Favorite Plant: Writers and Gardeners on the Plants they Love (editor; 1998)
* My Garden (1999)
* Talk Stories (2001)
* My Garden (2001)
* Mr. Potter (2002)
* Among Flowers: A Walk in the Himalayas (2005)
* Figures in the Distance
* Life and Debt Film (2001)

Addicted

by L. Saqiid

Gina arrived ten minutes early for her appointment. She appeared a little nervous, but definitely ready. Kris was with her, traveling along for support. She had actually come for her Brazilian last week, and reassured Gina that the second time around was far easier then the first. Friends since grammar school, they had experienced all sorts of new things together, but this by far was the most daring. A Brazilian wax is the complete removal of hair from the entire vaginal and anal area. They heard a lot of stories about it and like many other women, were curious enough to try.

The first time wasn't easy, but they knew what to expect. I was honest in telling them that it would be painful, so they might want to take a pain reliever prior to their appointments. When Kris returned she couldn't wait to tell me what life had been like since her first visit.

"We were so amazed at how good it felt to be bare," she said, "I can't believe I'm telling you this, but, we kept touching ourselves in the car."

"Okay ... interesting," I said. We both laughed.

"What did your husband think?" I asked.

"My husband loves it," said Kris. "He's very happy."

It was Gina's turn, now. I offered Kris a drink and then directed Gina to go into the treatment room to get changed for her service.

"Kris said this is a lot bearable the second time, right?" said Gina when I entered the room.

"Definitely, as long as you keep it up and refrain from shaving, it's a breeze," I said, as I prepared the wax.

"This can be addicting," she said, "you know this is serious for me when I drive all the way up here from the South Side."

"Where do you live on the South Side?" I asked.

"Girl, I live on the nine- you know, 79th street, " she said. "My girlfriends say, Gina, I can't believe you're going all the way up North for that. And I just tell them, listen ... if you tried it then you would understand, not only do I feel cleaner, but the sex is INCREDIBLE!"

"Nobody told me that! Had I known, I would've done this a long time ago," said Gina.

"It's certainly an experience," I said.

"Yes it is," she agreed. "Get used to this face, Honey, cause you're gonna see me on the regular."

Pre-K

by L. Saqiid

Lydia never thought she would see the day a 5-year-old would be suspended from school for punching his teacher in the stomach, but it had arrived. She couldn't even figure out what exactly went wrong. It was a week before Thanksgiving and the children were working on their art assignment, making turkeys out of construction paper in participation to raise money for a local food drive, when Julian, one of five boys in the class that often test her limits, became dissatisfied with his project and decided to rip it to pieces. "Julian, what is the problem?" she asked. "I hate turkeys. This is dumb," he shouted. "Please lower your voice," she said. Lydia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She kneeled beside his desk and studied the frustration in his angry face. "Why do you hate turkeys?" she asked. "Cause their stupid," he said, "Just like you … STUPID!"

A few of the children in the class snickered, while others watched intensely. "Okay Julian, your insults are not necessary," Lydia was careful to keep her voice calm. Any signs that she was shaken in any way by this outburst could result in disaster. This is her first teaching job. She came to this school straight out of college. She was aware of its troubled reputation, being one of the 109 schools in 1996 placed on probation in the City of Chicago because the children's test scores were so low. And, though it had recently been lifted, the faculty knew they were barely inching by. Eighty percent of the children in this school are from broken homes. A vast majority of them have behavioral problems that requires them to undergo weekly group counseling.

"Would you care to spend sometime in the principal's office until you can get yourself under control?" Lydia asked. "I'm not going to the principal's office and you can't make me," he spewed.

"Okay, young man, let's go," she motioned for him to leave, but he just sat at his desk glaring at her. "Did you hear me, I said let's go … NOW!" she said in a more forceful tone. Julian stood up and walked toward his teacher. "Did you hear me? I said, I'm not going to the principal's office," he repeated then followed with a fist, which landed right in her stomach. She doubled over in pain, blood slowly rising up through her esophagus, spilling into her mouth. Julian was only five, but he was large for his age- a tall, stocky kid who'd probably seen more violence in his short lifetime than she had in her 25 years. There was so much anger bottled up inside of him. His outrageous temper was at the ready in any given moment. Would it have made a difference if he knew that she was nine weeks pregnant? One would like to think so, but what difference did it make now. He doesn't know, no one does, not even her husband.


* This short was inspired by a true incident. Names have been changed to keep identities private.