Hair as a biological weapon

Given yesterday's post about all the hair goings on at our house, I was reminded of some hair hullabaloo earlier this year here in Seattle. Charles Mudede, a writer for The Stranger newspaper, wrote a column about a situation involving his bi-racial daughter, her hair products and a teacher's alleged physical sensitivity to the smell of it.

As I wrote about the debacle at the time in a Facebook comment:

Jay-zuss. So. Poorly. Handled. By the teacher and the parents. Why isn't anyone thinking about the child, her feelings, and her classmates and what they're learning from this? About how deal with difference? (They've learned to push it away. In a really distracting and obtrusive way.)
About how to handle an uncomfortable situation without making someone feel bad? (They've learned a child's feelings don't matter. Only the adult's/teacher's.)

Why didn't the teacher just say "I'm feeling a little warm/dizzy. Let's open a window and the door and create a cross-breeze." Then she could broach the subject - delicately and discretely - with the parents later.

All kinds of teachable moments being missed in all this.

At the time, reading about that girl left me totally worried about my little brown girl and her gorgeous hair and attendant hair products as we prepared to send her off to play school.

Be the change you want to see

I saw this quote in Oprah’s magazine recently and it perfectly captures how I’ve felt since Ava arrived. 

“In bathrooms, boardrooms, buses, bagel shops, and everywhere, we all need to imagine a little girl following us around, repeating everything we say and everything we do. Think about all the things you want for yourself and your daughters, granddaughters, and girls everywhere – and teach them by living it yourself.” – Nell Merlino, entrepreneur, former union organizer, author

Wearing our fleece, sharing cereal on the kitchen floor while we look out at the sunny, but cold weather.

Superstar!

It's like having a little shadow following me around, copying what I do, how I do it and taking copious mental notes. It's inspiring and daunting at the same time. How do I prepare her for a future that will likely be dramatically different from what I've known? Think about the advances and changes of the past 80 years and try to imagine what the next 80 will look like.  It's mind-boggling but I want to get it as right as possible for her so she can adapt to whatever life throws her way.

What lessons do you hope kids today are getting from their parents or caregivers?