Early Morning Text

Daughter got her hair cut on Saturday.  Hair has always been in a big issue with her.  She is biracial, I am white.  I find that African Americans sometimes criticize the way I do her hair.  When we were in Inner City, I had women in the church who were willing to guide and teach me.  Since then, I've been pretty much on my own. 

Her first psychiatrist when we were in Tiny Village was Jamaican.  Her last appointment with him was the day he got on her about the need to take better care of her hair.  She was 9 years old.  When we were in Inner City, she wore her hair in multiple braids, like  most of her classmates.  She didn't want multiple braids once she was in a majority white school.  I began pulling it back in one or two braids, and often by the end of the day her hair was looking a bit ragged.  At the end of the long day, he told her she was a big enough girl to take better care of her hair.  I was the one who took care of her hair, and she was very sensitive to criticism of it.  I found a new psychiatrist for her.

When she went back to her house yesterday afternoon, her hair was beginning to poof a bit.  She had not had any of her wraps to wrap it Saturday night after the beautician straightened it (just with a straightening iron).  When she called me last night she was upset because she said the staff (all African American) were criticizing her hair and said she should have had it relaxed.  I asked if she was happy with her hair.  She said she was, and I told her that was all that mattered. 

This morning she sent me a text message with a picture of herself.  It said, "They cant judge for who i am or what i look like because i am strong and beatiful."  It made my day.