War and Curls

Aug 1, 2010 | 2010 Summer - Bodies, Poetry

By Lividia I. Violette

It was made of naps that I couldn’t appreciate
Tangles and split ends.
Things I used to make it straight were actually weapons of coif destruction
Relaxers, texturizers, hot combs and flat irons
My tresses, like myself, were stressed but resilient
The suffering was too much yet, I persisted.
It was made of a texture that I didn’t know how to appreciate
Dry and unmanageable.
Fixated in its style but poofy at the slightest signs of moisture in the air
Humidity was the enemy and I ran from the water
Images of what I thought was acceptable were thrown away
It wasn’t long, straight, nor in the wind did it sway
I had to reevaluate my tactics
No more chemical warfare
I didn’t want to go bald, just wanted nice hair
Research-educating myself-was the best strategy
It is made of curls that I love to appreciate
Twists and spirals au naturalle
Learned to moisturize, play gently and to let it be itself
Dancing in the rain and laughing at humidity levels
Never again fooled by the “You’d look best like this” scam
I made peace with my locks and the curly-head that I am

Lividia is a 24-year-old activist from Arlington, Texas who rocks the mission of equality.

Related Articles

Secrets and Safety

By Fatima As I gaze outside my window I am reminded of my crimes all the warning signs my short-sighted copyrights tweets and receipts used against me. I could not go outside and I could not speak and I could not stay here alone as I need to be alone because I wear...

read more

screen time for two

By Sarah Patterson it all comes down to a comment below, i’ll be lower still who am i if not split in two? subscription to someone else’s life somehow both are me somehow both are you i am a follower, not an interaction link to every want, a never need jia tolentino...

read more

Digital awakening

By Bojana In the shelter of the web’s embrace, A realm both vast, both virtual and base, I wandered, lost, in forums, chats, and sites, Seeking self amidst the countless bytes. In the glow of screens, both young and old, A question loomed, a story yet untold. Was my...

read more