by Katherine SantanaWhat makes hair as beautiful? Is beautiful hair defined by pattern? By color? Or maybe it’s by shape? For years, we have seen certain hair textures get praised more than others and the “others”, become victim of public ridicule for their hair texture. Some like myself, grew up hating their hair and wanting something “normal”. For me, normal was pin straight hair and anything outside of that was not normal. I grew up hearing time and time again, that my curly hair wasn’t beautiful. I grew up thinking, that my hair was an anomaly working separately from the universe. It attracted attention no matter where I went, and it stopped me from fully appreciating my locks. People would comment on my hair in the streets. Both Dominicans and Americans would make fun of how big and curly my hair was. I had to learn the hard way the cruelty that is the standard of beauty. It wasn’t until four years ago, that I decided to make the change and learn to love my hair the way it is. I decided to call my journey Project: Unleash the Curls, which signifies me breaking into the world with my hair and defying the “norm”. It is a way for me to get back into my roots and demonstrate that I am just as beautiful with my curly hair. I grew up in a semi traditional Dominican household, where the standards of beauty are quite strict. The beauty standard of hair in particular, is very much imbedded in the Dominican culture. I often heard the term “good hair” and “bad hair”, to represent what was socially desirable and acceptable in the culture. My hair, was the classic example of “bad hair”. It is extremely curly, very big and very hard to manage. I get severe knots in my hair that takes one hour to comb, and I have broken combs, brushes and hair ties alike. Nobody knew how to manage my hair, and my mom would spend hours trying to detangle my hair. All I would hear is me crying from the pain, and my mom feeling frustrated with my hair. She couldn’t wait until I hit the right age to get perms done. Perms in the Dominican culture is huge, and it is a way to tame the untamed. For me however, it was a way of erasing my roots. I gladly accepted the perms in hopes that I wouldn’t have to deal with my hair again, and I was right. I would touch up my perm every 6 months, and I ceased to leave my hair air dry. My only hope at the time for beautiful hair, was to get underneath a hair dryer with rollers pinned to my hair. It was painful, but for me it was worth it and for my mother as well. I continued to perm and straighten my hair for the next 6 years. I didn’t even remember what my natural hair looked like anymore. The only thing I could remember was the hatred I had for it, and the trouble it gave to the universe. At the age of 16, I decided that this kind of life was enough. I told my mother, that I wanted to stop getting perms and learn to manage my own hair. The next two years after this decision, would prove to be agonizing. I was shedding an immense amount of hair, as it was attempting to shed away the parts of my hair that was damaged by the perm. Some parts of my hair even snapped in half, as it wasn’t used to being in its natural state. I desperately tried as many ways as I could to manage my hair, but I was once again stuck in that world of unruly hair. Once again, it took me hours to detangle and style my hair. It continued to break and shed as a result of me not knowing how to take care of it. I would try to walk outside with my big hair, and would be met by the phrase “AY QUE PAJON!” which is a classic Dominican phrase to signify natural hair. It is a phrase that refers to the Big Afro type hair, and it means that it is time to hit the salon to get it fixed. Whenever I would go to the salon, the hairdressers would notice that my hair is broken and damaged from leaving it curly. They would often attempt to persuade me to get a perm again, and would tell my mom that this is only just a phase and I would go back to getting perms. But, they were very much wrong. The only people who ever admired my curls was my grandmother and my two aunts. They would always compliment my curl pattern and its volume. My grandmother would always say that I should have my hair curly more often because it is so beautiful. My aunt would always ask me, how I keep my hair so curly and shiny. Some teachers in my high school would also complement my hair. My English teacher at the time, would always call me Diana Ross as she enjoyed the vivaciousness of my curls. My Global teacher, would always say that curly hair suits me better. Classmates would ask me the secrets of keeping my hair so curly and bouncy. This kept me going, it showed me that despite the negative responses of my hair, there were still some that found it beautiful. My grandmother would constantly mention how much she loves my curls. She would always say, “Que bellos rizos tienes!” which translates to what beautiful curls you have. She would also say, “Me encanta tus rizos.” Which means I love your curls. My aunts would try to show off to her friends and other family members, that my hair is beautiful. She would always encourage me to leave it curly because she loved admiring it. This gave me a lot of courage. Now, as a 20 year old, and all the years of struggling to restore my natural hair have finally paid off. I have finally regain the health of my hair, and I learned to manage it in less than an hour. But most importantly, I am happy with my hair and I feel proud of what I have. My mother and many others still antagonize ma about my hair. If I leave my hair curly, my mother would always attempt to make me wash it the next day and get underneath the hair dryer. She would call my hair ugly. People would whisper about my hair. But, I have a new found confidence in my hair that will never cease to exist, and I know there will always be people that find my locks irresistible. My hair signifies freedom and it signifies my African roots that many so desperately want to erase. It signifies, going against societal expectations and living my life my way. I am the happiest that I have ever been, strong, proud and pretty. I have unleashed the beauty of the beast, and it will never be tamed because it doesn’t need to be.
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