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What Is Your Hair Essay

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I am my hair. A shoulder length pile of sun-kissed waves, kinks, and ringlet ends. Breakage, split ends, dryness, and kinky roots. There is a myriad of textures, some natural, some “chemically enhanced.” My identity and growth are tied directly to my curly hair; struggles and feelings of uniqueness are woven through each strand. When I realized I had curly hair, everything changed.
At 6 years old, I only had the word “poofy” to describe my hair. With no time to spare on my unmanageable mane, my mother would brush-dry curls into pigtails, creating a frizzy mess. In school I learned to apologize because my hair was in the way of those sitting behind me. I did not look like the White girls with their straight hair, yet I did not look like the Black girls with their coarser curls and relaxed styles. I learned to view myself through my hair, and since no one else reflected my image, I never saw myself.
At 10 years old, I got my first chemical blowout granting me bone straight hair (as long as I kept inside, humidity was not easy to avoid in Florida). At school I was inundated with compliments about my straightened hair. I spent the next five years …show more content…

My locks loosened up and my wavy hair was considered exotic and beautiful. I piled on more chemical treatment on top of already chemically-treated hair, giving me wavy roots and straight ends. My hair was no longer a part of me. It was who I wanted to be perceived as, a mask I hid behind. My hair now gave me a label: I was seen as mixed. It was not until ninth grade that I realized I had been on a wild hunt searching for a label under which my hair fit. It was not White. It was not Black. I was not Mixed. Did I not fit under the label of Hispanic? Why was my ethnicity in question every time I looked in the mirror? I had to decide if I wanted kinky Afro hair which applied to my Cuban heritage or if I wanted to keep straightening my hair, killing a characteristic of my

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