Mini Mo: Reading the World "Like Me"

Mini Mo turned three years old about a month ago, and in addition to all the wonderful things other mothers have warned me about regarding this age, my little one has become quite the vocal observer of her surroundings--but more importantly of herself.

This self-observation really caught my attention a few months ago during a trip to Old Navy. To convince Mini Mo she needn't fear the half dozen mannequins that greeted us at the door, I walked to the one that looked like a young black girl with afro puffs and said, "Look! She's got puffs like you!" She unclenched my legs and eyed the mannequin, asking me to lift her so she could touch its puffs. From that day forward, whenever we go to any shopping center, Miyah looks for mannequins with "puffs like me!" (On our last trip to Old Navy just last week, she hugged the mannequin with the puffs. I'm so mad I didn't snap a photo.)

I wonder what magic is waiting in
Mini Mo's puffballs.

She continues to notice hair that looks like hers, and I encourage her observations. After all, she got that hair from me. :-) I want her to know I love my hair and her hair and that she should love her hair, too. That's why I purchased Penny and the Magic Puffballs, a children's book by Alonda Williams about a girl who comes to appreciate her puffs and the power they give her. Mini Mo was shocked to find at the end of the book a collage of photographs featuring girls of varying ages and with all kinds of puffballs--and she even thought one of them was her! She saw herself, and it was a beautiful thing.

Her reading of similarities between herself and those around her extends beyond hair these days, though. Sure, she'll note that "Daddy's wearing flip-flops like me" or "Mommy's got a necklace like me." But she's also noticing skin tone. Just the other day, she stated out of the blue, "I'm brown," to which I replied, "That's right. You are brown." She continued, "Mommy's brown and Daddy's brown." I kept her going.

"What about your brother?"

"He's brown, too."

"What about Kayla*?"

"She's white."

This exchange was a clear reminder that children grow up understanding differences (and similarities) in identities early on; it's their environment that shapes how they interpret them. I was so happy that, in this case, Mini Mo's interpretation was one of simple fact--and Kayla is one of her oldest buddies. Well, old for a three-year-old.

Beyond observing her external identifiers, Mini Mo seems to be owning her power as an individual. Let me just say: I know that her stepping into her fourth year means she has a ton of ego. Truer words were never written of this child, who really seems to have been self-assured and confident from day one. But when she sees strong, confident figures in front of her, she relates to them.

Case in point: Her aunt and uncle sent her Dr. Kimberly Brown's children's book Queen Like Me: The True Story of Girls Who Changed the World for her birthday. When hearing about the wise Queen of Sheba, the Sphinx-inspiring Nefertari and the determined Nzinga--along with Harriet Tubman, Coretta Scott King, Mary McCleod Bethune and many others--she kept wanting me to repeat these women's names. It was like she needed to be sure she got them down. She then agreed with the book's refrain that each one was "a queen like me."

Sure, she's a kid who loves books and beautiful images like any other kid, but Mini Mo's increasing literacy surrounding her identity and those of others leaves me happy about the messages she's internalizing at this young age and at this historical moment. Would she have been able to see a mannequin with afro puffs even ten years ago? Doubt it.

As she grows older and becomes increasingly aware of forces that might counter these messages, it may be harder for our family--and her teachers, I hope--to maintain them. But we're planting seeds, and I'm confident they'll bear good fruit. Besides, Mini Mo also seems to have an affinity for truth...like me.

*Not the cutie's real name

"Natural Isn't for Everybody"...Er?

My crew and I represent a range of looks and preferences,
and we love and respect those preferences! Here we are in
October 2012.

Look, sisters, I respect the fact that "our hair"--kinky, curly, nappy, kinky-curly, whatever you want to call it--can accommodate a broad range of looks, styles, textures, you name it. It's very cool to witness this spectrum of looks.

When some sisters cry, "Natural isn't for everybody," then, I have to wonder what they mean. I just want to throw these tidbits of agreement out there (but I don't think it's what some of them mean):

1. Taking care of natural hair is not for everybody--so true. Some sisters have no idea how to comb, moisturize, style, or otherwise maintain kinky, coily hair. They never had to learn, so learning as an adult is overwhelming for some women who'd rather dispense with the drama of learning. Hey, I hear ya.
2. Certain styles are not for everybody--amen. Maybe a fro-hawk on one lady is not so cute on another. Maybe one woman's texture is perfect for a huge halo of hair to encircle her head, but maybe another woman's hair doesn't kink up enough to achieve the same kind of halo. Everything doesn't work for everybody.

What I really think some of these ladies are suggesting, though, is that sporting the natural texture that grows out of one's head is not for everybody, that some women "need" relaxers. To that, I cry, "Ridiculous!" How can wearing one's hair the way it naturally grows not "be for" that person? That's the way it was growing before relaxers touched it, yes?

To each her own in 2013 and beyond, ladies. You want to loc it up, weave it up, fry it up? Cool. We all have preferences, but let's embrace the diversity we see in each other, a diversity that is just now becoming acceptable in many ways. That is a beautiful thing, so let's respect it and each other.

"Sesame Street" Teaches Kids AND Adults to Love Their Nappy Hair!

I don't know if I'm alone in this, but I've been walking around singing, "I love my hair! I love my hair..." ever since I first saw the now-viral video of a 

Singing, "I want to make the world aware: I love my hair!"

cute, happy little Sesame Street
muppet singing about how much she loves her hair--her kinky hair. :-) (Shout-out to Brenna, Paul and Dubose for sharing!) During the video (clicking the image to the right will take you to the YouTube video too), she's ecstatic about all the things she can do with her hair: wear it in twists, let it fly freely or rock a 'fro, among other things.

This video has inspired so many women (and some men too) with pride in a muppet who doesn't "need a trip to the beauty shop 'cause [she likes what she's] got on top." It made me wonder who the real audience is for this song. Sesame Street historically has been geared toward pre-schoolers, but I can't count how many comments I've read in which grown women reflect on their girlhood days, wishing they had seen a such appreciation and embracing of natural hair on TV.

If you were coming up in the '90s and earlier, you just didn't see or hear ideas like this in the mainstream. Nappy hair was destined to be pressed, Jheri-curled, or relaxed past a certain age. I think I just hit it: braids and twists and afro puffs are markers of girlhood--at least they have been. If I'm right, though, this precious video (the brain-child of a head writer for Sesame Street) is a symptom of changing times. Increasingly, it's becoming acceptable for females of all ages to "love all the things their hair can do." I hope it keeps up in high school, in relationships, in the business world, on job interviews, in academia, and in the mirror.

One Thing I Want My Daughter to Know: "Good and Bad Hair" Revisited

All right, I'm gonna talk about hair again, and then I'll leave it alone (until I get moved to talk about it again. That's right. I said it.).

I was watching a rerun of The Game on BET—don’t judge me—when an ad for Motions Silkening Shine Relaxer came on. I wasn’t paying much attention until I heard “Get pretty.” Then my ears perked up. The line continued, “…with shiny, make-them-stare hair.” Then it hit me hard: this is why little girls grow up thinking the hair they were born with needs to be fixed. Otherwise, it’s not “pretty.”

This ad reminded me of a recent conversation I had with my pastor, when he told me that we partly form our identities based on the models before us—that is, both fashion models and everyday examples. Little girls, for instance, grow up knowing what’s “pretty” without having to have it blatantly stated (although this ad is pretty blatant). We have Barbie dolls, TV, magazines and movies to tell us.

The thing is: the “popular” models, as opposed to the everyday ones, get more pull as kids grow up. We know this. And if we’re talking about models of “pretty” hair, the view is pretty one-dimensional. For black girls growing up today, their models are the likes of Beyoncé, Queen Latifah, and the model in this Motions ad: beautiful, influential women who relax their hair. I imagine the message for a little girl is that “shiny” hair like this model’s is the only way to “make them stare.” This type of hair is necessary to be considered beautiful.

I’m aware that these are arguably trite ideas--we all know that trying to be Barbie has screwed with quite a few minds--yet these ideas about "pretty" keep being recycled. In spite of all the conversations about multivalent versions of “pretty,” we’re still getting “pretty hair=straight and shiny” coming through the tube. To a little girl, who may have few, if any, models of naturally textured hair that is “pretty,” this ad provides the key to “pretty”! Shiny, blow-in-the-wind hair that correlates with all the other models out there.

I think we’d see a lot less negativity surrounding nappy hair if black females in their girlhood, where ideas about “pretty” firmly take root, can actually see more than one type of “pretty” hair. If they can see hair that looks like theirs as “pretty,” not just at home or in the neighborhood but on TV and in magazines, then maybe we can add a few more dimensions to the idea.

I’m not naïve, however. I know that part of kinky hair’s lack of visibility has to do with its paltry level of acceptability in the fashion, TV, and film industries. But we’ve seen kinky hair featured in the worlds of fashion and entertainment, as in this photo of Beyoncé. (Granted, I don't believe this is her hair, but the point is that the afro is getting some play!) World famous model Alek Wek is also an example of kinky hair in the fashion world. Kim Myles, of HGTV’s Myles of Style wears her hair in its natural texture. Jazz, blues, and folk icon Cassandra Wilson has been wearing locs for decades, and soul singer Leela James has a very prominent afro.

There are models of black women with naturally textured hair out there, but they’re nowhere near as prominent as models of straightened and relaxed hair. Where are the Carol’s Daughter, Miss Jessie’s, and Kinky-Curly TV ads? Maybe they’re on their way. They’re fairly new companies, after all.

With all this in mind, if I ever have a daughter, I’d want her to know that she’d be pretty no matter what she did to her hair, that there’s more than one type of “pretty” and that she wouldn’t have to change the texture of her hair in order to get it. But she could if she wanted to. It's one option and not the only one.