Sixteen Weeks

Sorry for my noted absence. I went through a crisis of faith where I'm like, "my dreadlocks aren't locking!" And they aren't, really, but I'm hoping that's just because as skinny locks, they're going to take a lot longer. I was hoping they'd be done by now, but then I probably should've put more effort into palm rolling. I hates palm rolling.

Anyway, almost all the bands are out. All the root bands are gone (all the ones I've found anyway), and I only have a few tip bands in that I put in on vacation to try and keep the tips from coming out. I had a small braid of hair that was somehow left out at the original backcombing, so I braided it and would leave it sticking out of my tam right above my ear to throw off anyone who might suspect I had dreads hidden under there. I called it my padawan braid. It is now a solid knot at the top. I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do with it. I am also trying to start using my tiny loose hair tool, as I am getting the sneaky suspicion that a lot of the hairs I put in with the sculpta don't actually stay put in.

I have had two dreams now where my mom has gotten dreads and they have looked better than mine. Eh mom, wha'dya say to that?

At work, a women told me she really liked me hair and then said I looked like "a raggedy Ann doll... in a good way." She went on to tell me she liked my freckles and that she'd heard somewhere that "a face without freckles is like a night sky without stars." Well, now I feel undeniably cute, and maybe about twelve years old. What do you think? Too cute for dreads? (Ha!)

Also, I had to go downtown for something. I hate downtown with most of the streets being one way, alternating at every intersection and parking is a pain. But I was walking from my car to Java Joes and I passed by a group of people sitting on the corner of the sidewalk on an intersection. Mixed races, mixed genders, and I think they were holding a cardboard sign that said something about "slapping a traveler" and named a dollar amount. Great way to relieve stress, they said. First one I noticed was a black guy wearing something in camo with those perfect dreads that I can never obtain. Yes, I am jealous. Then I saw another one sitting on the ground with his back to me, and saw he also had dreads. Coming around the front, I realized he was white.

"I like your dreads, mama," he called after me as I walked past. I flashed him a quick smile and said, "Thanks!"

They were still there when I went back, maybe around a half hour later. The same guy started talking to me again as I waited for the Walk light. He asked me how long I've had my dreads, how I put them in. I said by backcombing. He said his were natural, all he did was mix salt with water and leave that in and it only took them like a month to form. By that time, the light changed and I said goodbye and they suggested that I come hang out with them at some point.

But my question is, am I forever going to be judged on my dreadlocks by how I put them in? We can't look at hair and think the hair looks good without knowing how it came to be? Will I always be considered a sort of poser because I decided to backcomb my hair instead of let it form naturally? That seems so narrow-minded. I'm white with more-or-less straight hair. I have a friend who is mixed with curly "nappy" hair and it took him around five years to get dreadlocks. His hair looked like a palm tree or Sideshow Bob for a lot of the time in the middle and he actually had the hair for it. If I were to go neglect, I would just look like I never brushed my hair for a good seven plus years. And maybe some people think you have to earn it, you have to go through all that for dreads. And I think that it is a hair style and if I can do it to my hair, then why does anyone else care? What makes it more a hair style or less a hair style depending on how you put it in? My ponytail is better than yours because I used a scrunchy.

I know dreads are more than a hair style to a lot of the people who have them. They are a spiritual journey, a memory, or representational of something. Mine represent freedom to me, and the ability to break past the cage of expectations, made by myself and others. But do I have to look like a mess for years to have them mean that to me? I don't think so.

They look blue in the bottom one because I was trying to hide from direct sunlight in my balcony, but it was peeking over anyway. Actually, they kind of look cool blue.