They
say my hair is shabby, unruly
Not
ladylike
I
hear them but I don’t listen
They
say I do nothing about it
I
don’t plait the ropes or the weaves
I
don’t have the bouncy Brazilian or the Indian.
I
tell them this is my hair
I
tell them this is how it grows
It’s
short and coiled
They
touch it and exclaim, “It’s so hard!”
I
think to myself…if you stopped for a minute,
You
would realize this is your hair too!
They
don’t hear me so they don’t listen
They
say, “Hair is the pride of a woman.”
And
that I am no lady
I
say to them, “This is my pride!”
They
look, but they don’t see.
They
say to me, “Observe good hair:
It’s
long and straight. It’s bouncy and lustrous.”
I
say to them, “There’s no bad hair.
If
hair makes the owner happy, then it’s good.”
They
shake their heads vigorously,
Hair
falling everywhere
They
say to me, “Look, that’s true pride.”
I
shake mine too but my hair stays on my head
I
say to them, “Look! That’s my pride!”
They
look, but they don’t see
Good
hair is straight and bouncy
That
if I don’t have it,
Then
I’m not lady enough
I
say to them, “This is how I was born!”
They
say it’s not good enough
That
I must change
I
hear, but I don’t listen
I
say to them, “I am a lady.”
They
look, but they don’t see
They
say to me, “That’s not how a lady should be.”
I
ask them, “Who told you this?”
They
say to me, “Everyone knows!”
~Tracy Kobukindo
