Martin’s Dream

Five Score

August 28, 1963
At the Lincoln Memorial in Washington
Image Credit

Fifty years ago today, Martin Luther King, Jr. shared his dream.  He had a dream for his children, for my grandmother’s children, for me and for my children.

…A dream deeply rooted in the American dream – one day this nation will rise up and live up to its creed,

‘We hold these truths to be self evident: that all men are created equal.’

I have a dream . . .

At the Lincoln Memorial, in the year of the Centennial Anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation, the significance of the occasion was highlighted by carefully and not-so-coincidentally chosen words.

Martin Luther King, Jr. had a dream that day…

Pin-head!

Before Mark Zuckerberg’s entrance to the social network scene, there was Hi5, Friendster and ICQ.  MySpace even ruled the roost for a minute.  When Facebook finally eclipsed all the others, everyone I know jumped on the band-wagon.

I resisted.

Twitter came along.  Many people I know started tweeting.

Still, I resisted.

Humble Pinning Beginning

I had no idea!
Image Credit

Then one day in 2011 my brother showed me the latest and greatest in social bookmarking, mood boarding, self-indulgence, vicarious living, virtual hoarding, time-wasting, or whatever you want to call it.

Bro: “You haven’t heard about Pinterest?”
Me: “Wassat?”

He laughed and fired off an invitation to the invitation-only site.  “Prepare to lose hours and hours of your time!”

The Power of Suggestion

My niece’s amazing hair under a birthday hat

I have a niece.

She is confident and self-assured, fearless and strong. She is a happy and beautiful child, obsessed with Christmas. She is smart and funny and speaks two languages. She is three years old and already knows everything there is to know about everything.

Her Daddy and Papa asked me what to do with her hair… which is some amazing hair, if you ask me. More than once, I have promised to shave it off and make myself a wig with it… which could still happen, by the way. But I digress.

I Love My Hair – Now

Crooklyn’s Troy
– the look on her face here says it all –
photo credit

When my mom had me, it was the seventies and she was all about the Afrocentrism thing. Black Power, Nubian Pride, Mama Africa, yadda yadda yadda… She cut off her perm and grew an afro. She cut her best friend’s shoulder length hair into an afro too, much to the chagrin of her friend’s ultra conservative, ultra traditional West Indian mother. But not before she gave my six-year-old head a matching afro.

After that, I spent most of my time either telling people I wasn’t a boy , feeling sorry for myself because I didn’t have shiny, straight hair like my friends at school (all races, including black), or avoiding cameras at all costs. Pretty traumatic, actually… by kid standards.

Eventually, I did get a perm (against my mother’s will – a story for another day), but by that time, the damage had already been done. To this day I bob-and-weave when anybody pulls out a camera.

Fast forward to last week, when I came across this video –

All I can say is where was this when I was growing up? At the time, I was so desperate to conform to the beauty standards du jour that I didn’t realize my hair was, in fact, beautiful and versatile and a part of me that I should embrace and be proud of. I was just too young to see.

Hindsight is 20/20. Thanks Ma!

And thanks to vinegarandwater for sharing.

What were your childhood hair experiences? How did you feel about your hair growing up?