Friday, December 12, 2008

That Kink Back There Story Part 1

That Kink Back There
Part One
By: Apiphani B.

It was a strange thing that curl back there. It was resistant. Momma would try everything to get that one strand straight. She pulled it in a ponytail with jail (gel) and all. It still managed to break free and curl. She tried the pressing comb on a chilly winters day. It still broke out and did its thang by the end of the day. The only thing that got it to lay down and be still was that stuff she called a perm. But after a week that kink back there was parlayin like nothin ever happened. I admired it in a way. It was rebellious. It told a story all its own. That it would be the boss and no one else. Hey, it wouldn't even listen to me. I love it, that kink back there. I asked Momma, " Why can't we just let it be?"

"Let what be baby?"
"That kink back there that never lays straight like the rest when we pull it, burn it, or put that straightin'in stuff on there."
"Cause it aint cute to be walkin around with your hair uncombed and all that kinky nappy stuff just out and about. And its somethin that you just don't do."

For years I accepted this as the norm. It would have to be pulled, pressed, or chemically burned. Sometimes it would have to be all three. Especially when I got older. It seemed as though my hair was angry at me. Cause it started to be like that kink back there. They were not happy with this prison of jail and constant crack I was feeding it. It wanted nourishment. One day I fed it water and conditioner instead of puttin it in jail. And I'll be damned if they didn't lay down obediently. I thought it was a fluke. I threw those kinks back in jail and by the end of the day .... Lets just say it wasn't pretty. Those kinks were thirsty as hell. The jail didn't have nothin in it but alcohol so of course they would get dehydrated.

I think I was finally beginnin to understand my hair. Kinks may have been ugly to Momma, but ignorin them wasn't healthy for me nor my kinks. I decided to do some research on them chemicals and found more carcinogens in them than actual good stuff for my hair. So I decided to throw out all the unnecessary junk. Including my beloved jail. It wasn't good especially with all that alcohol. I think it was trying to get my hair drunk. Actually it did. Made it all intoxicated to the point where it wouldn't even move or budge and hurt like hell if I tried to move it. Water was the only thing that could wake them kinks up out of that slumber. It was the equivalent to my coffee but more healthy of course.

O, my poor kinks what have I been doing to you all these years?
...to be continued...