Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 05, 2010

"Curly Like Me" In Da Houze! (And In Bookstores, Too!)

Hey, Hip Hapa Homeez! Welcome back to our world where we embrace your multiethnic selves, transracially adopted upbringings, and cross-cultural lifestyles. In fact, anything that represents your unique experience as a multi-culti or blendie-mixie is what we hold most dear.

Speaking of, one of my dearest friends and the first Facebook person I ever met in the flesh (pun intended) is also this week’s featured Hip Hapa Homee, Teri LaFlesh. Known by many women for her fabulous hair and valuable advice on how to make theirs look like hers, Teri is finally having her book (published by Wiley) on the market this week. 

Check out her links below then move on down to the Q&A. Be inspired by Teri’s “before” and “after” photos, too, and click the Amazon link to buy her book.



Q: What's a nice multiethnic girl like you doing writing a book about hair?

A: Actually, it was in large part due to my being mixed that ultimately inspired me to write this book about hair. I half grew up with my mom, who is black, and experienced how very curly hair is dealt with in many black communities--especially at the time I was growing up. Mostly, the choices were relaxers, hot combs, or the brand new Jheri curl. All the women on my mom’s side of the family relaxed their hair. So my hair was relaxed before I even knew it was curly. Since my hair is very fine, it fell apart under the lye-like chemicals, and became as stiff as fondant.

In my teenage years, I lived with my dad, who is white. We lived in a white neighborhood, his wife was white, and all my family on that side was white. Suddenly, I was left alone to care for my hair. It was a shock to me that it grew out curly. I had no idea what to do with it, and I tried to treat it like the hair of everyone around me (which was a disaster). So there I was, the only person of color in my entire vicinity, and I had this super-curly hair I had no idea what to do with. And, that curly hair that was like no one else’s hair began to symbolize how I felt about my place in the world at that time. I felt like an outsider, but an outsider who was let into the inside. I belonged, and yet I looked totally different from everyone I saw, so I felt I didn’t really belong. And, my crazy hair that puzzled and alarmed people around me seemed to be proof that I was different.

So, when I finally (finally!) figured out what my hair wanted (which was the hair equivalent of being loved and accepted for what it was, even if that was a bit different from everyone else), I wanted to make sure no other mixie girl with crazy curly hair like mine ever had to feel alone, or like there was something wrong with her because her hair seemed so different from either parent’s.

Q: How did you grow up?

A: I grew up in two environments that were polar opposites. I spent my early years with my mom, who is black. She was a public school art teacher (which meant we never had much money, and she was very creative), and lived in a black neighborhood. She was religious and lived in the south. I was surrounded by my outspoken family and lots of pets. Our place was always messy, and we ate junky food whenever we wanted. I went to a public school. We had few rules. I was bossy and the center of attention, and I mostly ran wild.

I spent my teenage years with my dad, who is white (as was his wife). He and his wife were computer programmers, so we had money. They were atheists. We lived in the northwest in an all-white town where I went to private schools. Our house was quiet and ordered and spotless, with no pets. We ate healthy food, but only at certain, previously arranged times. My life was run by rules. I was awkward and quiet, and very shy.

So I grew up not only between two races, I had two totally different childhoods, and lived as two different people with totally different personalities to fit those environments. But each environment taught me totally different and necessary skills I needed in life.

Q: Explain why you call yourself a "Former Mushroom Head Kid". 

A: In the transition from living with my mom to going to live with my dad, a hairdresser gave me a Jheri curl over the relaxer my mom already gave me. The hairdresser had told me and my mom that as the curl grew out, I would have little ringlets on the ends of my straight hair. This sounded really pretty. Then, I went to spend that summer with my dad. When my dad saw the greasy Jheri curl activator, he forbid me using it. So, I dry brushed my already damaged hair every day into a crunchy cloud, and patted it into a round shape, and waited for that straight hair to grow out with the ringlets on the ends. It never came because (to my surprise) my hair wasn’t straight. In fact, it was very curly. Instead, my now triply damaged hair got bigger and bigger until it turned into a mushroom shape (see photo). The sad thing is I thought that stiff, broken hair-cloud was what my natural hair was like, and it was a specter that haunted me for many years whenever I thought about possibly going natural.


Q: There's so much good, scientific information in your book. How long did it take you to write it?

A: Aw, thank you for saying that! I did a ton of research for it. I’d say the book took about two years to do. The first year, I wrote it in snatches of free time, such as when I was riding the train to and from work, and would type what I’d written when I got home. The second year I spent taking the pictures for the book, and researching and drawing the illustrations for it.

Actually, it took me about 30 years of trying to figure out what to do with my hair. I figured it out for selfish reasons: I wanted hair that wasn’t an ordeal, but was just hair and not a big deal. I had no intentions of writing a book. It was one day (after I’d figured out how to make my hair happy) that I realized I hardly thought about my hair any more, and it was down to my waist, and I was happy with it. It was then that I thought I might have found out some things others might really want to know, too (and may not want to have to struggle for 30 years to discover).

Q: Will there be a book tour?

A: At this time, there is a tiny tour planned, but I’ll probably mostly sign books in bookstores in my travels visiting relatives. I’ll be at the Mixed Roots Film and Literary Festival in June. Honestly, I’m pretty shy in real life, so I’m happy keeping things lower key. 

Q: What do you make of the current influx of published works by multiethnic people?

A: I think multiethnic people have had a very strong voice throughout time, however, they were often lending their voices to other fights, and their multiracial heritage was often downplayed, overlooked, or not acknowledged. Recently there has been an explosion of voices speaking as multiracial, and now refusing to be mashed into only one box. That’s very powerful and wonderful. I actually mark the turning point (for the media at large) as Tiger Woods, who helped put multiracial on the map. Often, when a race other-than-white is mixed with white, it seems to be the race of color that comes to dominate that person’s label to the world. Woods was one of the first celebrities I remember hearing about that wasn’t half white. Since he didn’t have a white parent (so he couldn’t just be lumped into the other-race-besides-white category), there wasn’t that neat default of placing him into the race of color as his automatic identity. Now people had to think about what he actually was for a moment: was he ‘Black’ or ‘Asian’ or ‘Something Else’? I think that not having an easy answer helped open many doors to the idea of being more than just one thing. Oooh. I hope that makes sense.

Q: What other writing projects do you have planned?

A: I’m working on a collection of short stories about my years running around as a wild child in the woods of Kentucky. I did some goofy things in those days, and was lucky enough to live in a home that let me get away with way more than I should have.

Congratulations, Teri! What an amazing author and humble Hip Hapa Homee, you are. btw, I love this quote from you: “When I made peace with my hair, I made peace with myself.”

Lately, Your Hip Hapa has been saving controversial clips (Sandra Bullock’s black baby, etc.) for the Hip Hapa Homeez Group page on Facebook. If you’d like to engage in a discussion, please join the group and leave your comments at any one of some 500 links posted there. Also, please sign up to “like” our Watermelon Sushi Fan page. Since Facebook has changed the rules, you no longer have to become a “fan”, but can just like us. You can also follow us on Twitter where we post dialogue from the Watermelon Sushi film script, and we promise to follow you back. Finally, show some love for the Watermelon Sushi film by checking out our Hapa*Teez t-shirts.

Until we meet again in our Watermelon Sushi World, I am

Your Hip Hapa,
Yayoi

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Knee-Grow-fied Hair, Zebra Couples, And The Fresh LaFlesh











Dear Gentle Reader,

I feel so weird these days wearing my hair in a limp, stringy style I like to call "The Sophisticated Knee-Grow". And, as soon as I took a hot iron to my wavy tresses, I noticed how many sistahs do something similar to achieve a so-called "relaxed" hairstyle. Does that mean if we leave our hair in its natural, curly state, it's "tense" or "uptight"? Why must we make the effort to get our hair to "chill" anyway?

I suppose our approval ratings among the dominant majority go up when our hair is not so threatening as it is when worn natural or in an Afro, braids, or the mack daddy of them all--dreadlocks. There's no getting around it, mixed/black and black hair is political. Back in the day, you were either with us (sportin' a big bushy natural) or with them (toning down any perceived statement of anger with a perm and a press). As militants, we were proud to have hair that was untamed--just like us. Nobody named Toby around here! Nowadays, though, it seems that the 1970's never happened. I see so many weaves and wigs on sistahs in every walk of life. And, look at me. I'm using a hot iron! Why? As usual, I have no answers; just lots of questions.

Speaking of Knee-Grow-fied hair, I recently attended a screening of Samuel Jackson's new flick, Lakeview Terrace, in which Mr. Jackson plays an L.A. cop incensed that his new neighbors are a zebra couple. More about that mess later. But in one scene, his teenage daughter, wearing the "Sophisticated Knee Grow" hairstyle, emerges from their next door neighbor's swimming pool. As Kerry Washington's character hands the teen a towel, Kerry's Chaka Khan-like curls bounce and glisten in the sun. The women's hairstyles are a study in contrast. The teen then tells Kerry, "I like your hair". Instead of the obligatory "thanks" that Kerry utters, I think she should have said, "Well, youthful sistah, now that you got your hair wet, just go take a nap without drying and it'll go back home for you." Get it? Take a nap? A nap? Anyway, it was clear that the screenwriters had no clue about black women or, more importantly, the importance of black women's hair to other black women.

What a disappointment. I was looking forward to seeing how Hollywood would approach the story of a black man enraged by his new neighbors being a black woman and her white husband. But not once are we told anything of the history of interracial relationships. Why do so many black men see red when they see black and white? Hello! Does anyone remember a little thing called slavery? How about when white slavemasters raped black female slaves while black male slaves watched helplessly? If the writers would've written that fact in as a sort of a collective consciousness inherent in some black men like Samuel's character, I would've bought the story. But, no. Warning: Spoiler Ahead! Instead, this movie, directed by Neil Labute (In The Company of Men, Your Friends and Neighbors) wants us to believe that the real reason Samuel's character got his drawers all up in a bunch is because his own black wife died in a car crash in the middle of the afternoon while--get this--she was riding around with her white male boss. Lawd. Here's a rare opportunity to put real issues on the table, and what we get is Kerry 's character and her husband (Patrick Wilson) avoiding the "i" word (interracial) like the proverbial elephant in the room. I know there are mixed-race folks out there just dying to share their well-told tales with the world, and instead we're regulated to Hollywood telling us how it is (not!).

Anyway, don't go looking for any history lessons in Lakeview Terrace, but do look for my friend, VALERI ROSS, who plays "Old Lady" in a scene stealer. Me and Val go way back. That's a pix of the talented actress above with me outside an L.A. restaurant circa 2000, I think. The woman between us is writer/teacher Gabrielle Pina.

So far, it's been a wonderful week. The chill author of Biracial Hair, Teri LaFlesh, sent over photos of herself looking fresh in a Hip Hapa Hapa*Teez t-shirt. Instead of hatin' on the sultry sistah, get your own shirt and then send me a snapshot of you in it so I can post it here and on the new Watermelon Sushi website which will be up soon. It will so be up soon! Yes, it will! And, don't forget, you earn a rear crawl credit with your purchase. Contact me at watermelonsushi@comcast.net for more info.

Meanwhile, I remain...

Your Hip Hapa,
Yayoi