I reacted in my usual way. I over-explained. There were reasons—serious, complicated reasons—behind my desire to style my daughter’s hair instead of letting it go every which-a-way.
As an adoptive mom of a daughter with African-American heritage, combing her hair isn’t child’s play. It’s a skill an African-American mom learns as a child and masters over the years. As a white woman, I have a lot to learn.
So Jason says: “Why learn? She looks cute the way she is.”
I want Celia’s hair to look nice. In the black community, taking the time to style your daughter’s hair is a sign that she is well cared for and loved. I want everyone to know my daughter is well cared for and loved.
“Why do you care what they think?”
“I just do.”
When Celia was eight months old, I took her to a black-owned beauty parlor. Pam showed me how to detangle her hair with an adult-sized brush, not those cute baby comb and brush sets you get as gifts. She made a part down the center that looked straight to me, but Pam was not satisfied. She kept redoing the part until it met her standard. Once in pigtails, my baby looked like a little girl, and I thought I might have to cry.
At home, I got comfortable working on Celia’s hair. I set aside some preferred toys for her to play with only during hairdo time. I didn’t like the strong smell of the product Pam sold me, so I experimented until I found Hair Milk by Carol’s Daughter, a company trumpeted by Jada Pinkett-Smith and Mary J. Blige.
