There is a wealth of comedic talent exploding on the Internet, and a few have been bold enough to talk about natural hair. For those not in the know, we naturals don’t think there is anything funny about being natural. Being natural is serious stuff. But two videos sporting the title @#$% Natural Girls Say are hilarious. They are parodies of videos with similar titles, some of which have been labeled as sexist and racist.
Unlike the other videos, I see a little bit of myself in the natural hair parodies. In this one, I like how the writer/performer talks about simple hair regimens that are far from simple. First of all, if you have to call something a hair regimen, it is going to be, in a word, complicated.
The writer also makes fun of the acronyms and abbreviations naturals have created. When naturals talk about hair, non-naturals have no idea what we are saying. For example, I had to BC (Big Chop) because my SSKs (Single Strand Knots) were out of control. I guess I didn’t PS (Protective Style) enough. Do you think an ACV (Apple Cider Vinegar) rinse would have helped?
In this one, I promise the writer/performer stole the line about not sleeping on cotton pillowcases directly from this site. While away on vacation, I couldn’t find my hair bonnet. What did I do? I made one out of a pair of my child’s satiny pajama bottoms. Yes, I wore pajama bottoms on my head so that my hair wouldn’t touch a cotton pillowcase. I called it an unusual hair tip; others might call it something else entirely.
Do you see a little of yourself in these videos? Do share.
Simone asks a lot of questions. These days she asks about the meanings of words. We’re lucky if we can read a book to her with only a few interruptions. We welcome those pauses. It shows us she has a thirst for learning, is questioning the world around her, and trying to understand it.
It can be quite frustrating, breaking down large issues or big words into pieces children can digest. Sometimes after a Q & A session with Simone, I am thankful I have the patience to think about her questions and deliver age-appropriate responses. We are our children’s first teachers, but we are not our children’s only teachers.
When I read about the students at a Georgia elementary school greeted with math problems about slavery and beatings, a fire burned in my gut.
“Each tree has 56 oranges. If eight slaves pick them equally, then how much would each slave pick?”
“If Frederick got two beatings each day, how many beatings did he get in one week?”
Like most things, school curricula need context. Without context most subjects, especially history and race, make absolutely no sense. While both questions are an attempt at accurately portraying what once happened in our country, they are confusing to students. Children can be very concrete in their learning. If they hear or read something, their minds are flooded with questions.
I don’t know what I would have said to Simone had she asked me why slaves were picking oranges in her math problem, or why trees only have 56 oranges or a lot less than 56 oranges. As for beatings, she doesn’t really know what those are. Why would someone want to do that to someone else two times a day? I can imagine her asking.
Teaching is a tough job, and many teachers try to make their lessons relevant. They try to link math or history or English with something that is happening in their students’ lives or to real events. It makes learning easier, sometimes it makes learning fun. Creating relevant lessons plans does not mean plucking pieces of historical information out of a book, setting them down inside a math problem, and expecting children to somehow understand. Good teachers, those how have given their lesson plans any amount of thought, know this. They know how children’s minds work. The teacher at the Georgia school deserves an F for a serious lapse in judgment.
ETA: NAACP calls for firing of teachers.
Nadia: Ready, polka-dot girl?
Simone: Ready, striped girl.
Nadia and Simone, addressing each other based on the dresses they were wearing.
Nadia loves to dance. If music is playing, she’s dancing. In her car seat. At the mall. In front of a mirror. Any mirror.
One day she says she wants to take lessons, and I say, “Sure, why not?” Turns out there are a lot of reasons a parent should not enroll her children in dance. The main reason: Dance costs a billion dollars. True story.
The monthly fee isn’t all that bad, but there are tons of hidden costs. I knew there would be a recital. I would need to buy costumes, but I didn’t plan on wardrobe changes. Simone and Nadia will wear two costumes, one for ballet and the other for jazz. These aren’t Halloween costumes; these are costumes for a Broadway production.
Did I mention that we have to pay to see our girls perform? Yes, we have fork over $8 a person to attend the recital. I figured that wasn’t too bad. I mean, the dance studio has to rent the performance site, and it’s not like total strangers are going to come see our girls perform.
Just a few days ago, I got a note about a recital fee. I did a little math and came up with a huge number for the recital fee just for Simone and Nadia’s class. There are 50 more classes. That’s not a typo. Something tells me that fee is not for rent. Something tells me this recital will be like a Broadway production. The Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater comes to mind.
So, I’m a little timid about opening my email. I fear one day I will learn about the hair and makeup fee. There may even be a spa fee, a mani-pedi fee, and a massage fee. My goodness.
Dance class is wonderful. Simone and Nadia look forward to it each week. It teaches discipline and is an excellent form of exercise. That said, I’ll be looking for a class in the fall that is a little less intense, has fewer wardrobe changes, and requires less capital.
Check out this New York Times gallery of Mildred and Richard Loving, an interracial couple who were charged with a felony under a Virginia statute banning such marriages. The Loving Story, a documentary about the Lovings, will appear on HBO on Feb. 14. Beautiful.
I should point out that I don’t have HBO. I don’t think I ever have. Sad, I know. At any rate, I will find some HBO on Valentine’s Day 2012. Yes, I will. Maybe we can have a watch party. Oh, let me think on that for a minute.
About the film:
Loving v. Virginia was a watershed civil rights case in which the United States Supreme Court declared Virginia’s anti-miscegenation statute unconstitutional in 1967. A racially charged criminal trial and a heartrending love story converge in this documentary about the Lovings, an interracial couple who fell in love and married at a tumultuous social and political time in American history, yet nevertheless brought about change where previously no one else could. Through stunning archival footage of the Lovings, the film revisits this public battle through the eyes of a private couple who simply wanted to have the right to get married and live in the place they called home.
Director Nancy Buirski reacquaints us with this famous couple with the same grace and elegance of the soft-spoken but driven Mildred Loving herself, and subsequently breathes vibrant new life into history. Beyond the trials and legal battles, Buirski delicately anchors this inspiring film in an engaging human love story with a timely message of marriage equality, echoing the words of Mildred on the 40th anniversary of the Supreme Court decision: “I support the freedom to marry for all. That’s what Loving, and loving, are all about.”
I don’t usually set New Year’s resolutions. Like a lot of people, I don’t believe in them. Just set a goal and accomplish it, I’ve said in the past. If something’s wrong, fix it.
Part of me still believes resolutions aren’t needed. Part of me also thinks you don’t get anything you don’t ask for or claim. I’m making resolutions, mainly because I want to look back at a year and say that I grew in some way. Making resolutions or setting goals, especially in such a public way, will hold me accountable for them.
A friend recently sent to me The Story Within: New Insights and Inspiration for Writers by Laura Oliver. This friend knows I have a story to tell. This friend also knows I’ve had trouble getting the story out of me and onto paper. I’ve written pieces of my story on this blog and for magazines. In 2012, I’m going to get the story out of mind and onto paper. Not a few essays. Not some chapters. Not a book proposal. All of it. I resolve to write the whole darn book in 2012.
For two years, I’ve gone to the Mixed Roots Film and Literary Festival in Los Angeles to celebrate Loving Day and bask in prose and media about the mixed experience. In 2012, I plan to host a modest Loving Day event at home. I’ve been thinking about doing this for years, and I’m going to do it this year. I’m not kidding about the modest part. It will start small and can grow from there.
The most difficult resolution is one that will require an attitude change. There used to be a time when I didn’t care much what folks thought or said about me. For some reason, that changed after I had Simone and Nadia. Well, I’ve got to get closer to the place where I resided before I had children. I can be sensitive to someone’s feelings while remaining true to mine. I’m calling my new attitude unflappable grace. This resolution is less concrete than the others. It will be a process. I am sure I will lose my way at times. By the end of 2012, though, I will have mastered unflappable grace.
It’s clear from some of the comments on my earlier posts that I am a novice when it comes to apologizing and forgiving.
I think I understand being thankful. Here goes …
I am thankful for my health, mental and physical.
I am thankful for my family and friends, loving and loud.
I am thankful for a roof over head, food in my tummy, and clothing on my back.
I am thankful for Ken’s love and humor.
I am thankful for Simone and Nadia’s love and laughter.
I am thankful for our doggies, Big Al and Ringo.
I am thankful for chocolate.
I am thankful I like and love myself.
I am thankful for no nonsense parents who believe in discipline and doing what’s right.
I am thankful for the ability to think for myself, to make sound decisions, and to dream.
Those are the first 10 to come to mind. What about you? As 2011 comes to a close, what are you thankful for?
Next: Happy New Year!
