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Lady Kinnks
About the author, Lady Kinnks
I remember my mom telling me about my grandmother’s hair. Born on the tiny island of Grenada, my great grandmother was a lady of East Indian decent. I don’t care what Black person you speak to, they always have a story of how they are not 100% Black. They are mixed with….just fill in the blank. My mom told me how black, soft and long my grandmother’s hair was, and how she wished she had her mom’s hair! My mom’s hair was always short, light brown, and got even lighter with the summer’s sun. With age, my grandmother’s hair remained soft but short, and kinky at the roots. My grandmother always loved when I would put curlers in her hair. One by one she would hand me the paper, curler and cap. It was our special bonding routine.
It was to the point that, if my hair was not done, I wasn’t going to school. Go out in public in-between micro braids, NEVER! What would people say if they saw how short and nappy my hair was? I would look like a slave.
Extreme, of course not—ask any black girl! My close friend thought I was crazy. “Get over your self,” she rudely yelled, “it is just hair”! Her annoyance made me question my concerns. How could she understand? SHE was Black and Puerto Rican. She had good hair, she could wet her hair, apply gel and look flawless. All the boys showed their interest. I on the other hand needed my hair to be fixed, it grew-in broken.Read More
