I am Not My Hair, but I Miss My Dredlocks

Hello Meltingpot Community,

Do I feel silly complaining about my hair in the middle of a global pandemic? Maybe a little, but I’m going to do it anyway, because this is my blog and because hair stories are my jam. So, I’m just going to say it, I just don’t feel like myself without my dredlocks.

Let’s go back to the beginning of my hair journey and we’ll make our way back to the present day. This is my dredlocks story.

I Am Not My Hair

Growing up in all-white neighborhoods, going to schools where I was the only Black girl in most of my classes, I only wanted one thing from my hair; to blend in. From kindergarten through high school and, if I’m honest, through my college years as well, I just needed my hair to be healthy and strong enough to withstand the regular relaxer treatments that kept it straight and manageable. For the most part, I kept my hair straight and pulled into some version of a ponytail or a bun. For special occasions, I’d bust out my curling iron and wear it it straight with just a hint of a curl at the ends. Sometimes, I had bangs.

Going Natural

When I moved to New York City after college, I landed in Brooklyn. And it was there that I had my Black Girl spiritual awakening that many of us who were born and raised in Caucasia experience at some point, post childhood. I was surrounded by beautiful Black men and women who wore their hair in so many different ways – long, straight, natural, braided – it was a revelation to me. Growing up I believed there was only one way for Black hair to be seen in public, and that was straight. By the time I went to graduate school and began my research on the history of Black hair in America, I was ready to get acquainted with my real hair. Once I had my master’s degree in hand, I went to one of the few hair salons that specialized in natural hair at the time, Khamit Kinks, and had all of my straight, relaxed hair cut off.

It took me awhile to get used to wearing a teeny, weeny Afro, and I heard more than my share of insults, gasps of horror and suggestions that I’d ruined my life, but I got used to it. I also got used to trying new styles that were actually made for my kinky hair texture. Braids. Twists. Bigger Afros. It was like speed dating with my own hair.

Loc Love

By the time I was in my late twenties, I decided I wanted to try wearing dredlocks. I was getting ready for my wedding and I had an image of myself with long, beautiful dreadlocks walking down the aisle. Clearly, I knew nothing about how long it takes for one’s hair to actually form dredlocks, so I  got married with my hair in two-stranded twists. Think of them as pre-dredlocks. It was all good.

Meanwhile, it took close to one full year for my hair to fully loc, and I loved the way it looked. I also loved the fact that my hair grew longer than it ever had before. Essentially, leaving my hair alone -as one does when growing dredlocks – allowed my hair to flourish. By the time my first son was born, two years after the wedding, I had long flowing dredlocks that reached down to the middle of my back. My baby boy loved to grasp hold of them, play with them and sometimes even chew on them. (We didn’t encourage the chewing, of course). I loved that my hair was beautiful, easy to maintain, versatile stylistically, and even offered my son and I another way to bond.

Un-Locked

By the time my second son was born, I chopped all my hair off. We had left New York and started a new life in Philadelphia. Those beautiful, long, locs had suddenly become heavy and felt like a burden as a new mom of two young boys. I literally wanted a hairstyle that I could wash and go with zero fuss. So, it was back to that teeny, weeny Afro.

When second son was about two though, I missed my locs again. So, I decided to grow a new set of locs. I like to tell my children that I grew a new set of locs for each kid. And I did. I have three kids and I’ve locked and unlocked my hair three times. Every time I unlock my hair, I think I’m going to wear it in some of the beautiful, natural styles that have become more popular thanks to the explosion of the Natural Hair movement. But I cannot tell a lie. While I admire all of these beautiful hairstyles, I can barely execute a decent braid. Also, I have three kids, a full-time job, and a freelance writing career. I just can’t find the time to do my hair on a regular basis. So, dredlocks not only are one of my favorite styles aesthetically, they also perfectly fit my busy lifestyle.

Sign of the Times

In every woman’s life, the change is going to come and for me the change has brought thinning hair. *sob* This summer, I noticed that my beautiful, long dredlocks were thinning at the roots. At first I tried to ignore it, but when one of my locks literally fell out in my hand, I knew it was true. In response, I decided to hack half of my locks off to lessen the stress on the roots. I cut off about five inches of length. I thought that might do the trick, but it didn’t. I had to face facts, my hair was definitely thinning. So, I unlocked the rest of my hair, went to the salon and my stylist told me I would probably never wear locs again. *sob* She gave me a trim and a sweet blow-out and told me to be happy because I could still do a lot of fun things with my hair.

Enter the Corona Virus

So, I promised we’d get back to the beginning, and here we are. Like everyone else in the world, I’ve been trapped in the house with too much time on my hands. This has led to staring in the mirror and contemplating the meaning of life and my place in it. I’ve also, like I’m sure many of you, have had to give myself a pep talk to even do my hair every day, much less change out of my jammies. Since I am still teaching, I do have to make myself presentable on most weekdays, but it’s still a struggle. I yearn for the days when I wore dredlocks because having locs meant I didn’t have to do my hair every day. Dredlocks would be the perfect, low-maintenance, Corona hairstyle.

Because we have extra time on our hands, I have been watching a few YouTube videos for ideas on how to braid my daughter’s hair. (Again, looking for low-maintenance styles for everyone.) After I successfully executed a style on her, I started thinking, could I try a new style for myself? As I mentioned above, I have never been adept at hairstyling, but this is a new world order. I am doing things now, I never thought I’d do. (Can you say making bread from scratch?) But the only style I really want is dredlocks.

I am Not My Hair, But I Miss My Dredlocks

Dear readers, I have had dredlocks off and on for the last 20 years. (Wow!) I’ve had locs when my children were born, when I’ve traveled, and for most of my professional headshots. While there have been phases when I was unlocked, when I close my eyes and envision myself, dredlocks are part of the picture. I’m not going to be overly dramatic and say I don’t know who I am without locs, but I will say that I don’t recognize myself without them. Some people have a very defined fashion sense. I don’t. But my dredlocks define my look. I even asked my kids the other day, do they think I look like myself without locs and they all said, no.

So, over the Easter weekend, I decided to go to YouTube university and I watched way too many videos on starting locs with two-strand twists. Even though I’ve been through the process now four times, I have always gone to a salon to start my locs. I would never even dream of starting them myself. Even when my son wanted to get locs, I took him to the salon, that’s how little I trust my own skills. But the #Rona made me take matters into my own hands. I’ve been unlocked for close to six months now. My hair is back to its thick and healthy state. So, I washed and deep conditioned my hair, turned on the YouTube and got to work. Two hours later, I have a new head of two-strand twists, aka pre-dredlocks!

My Hair Story + The #CoronaChronicles

I figure if I accomplish nothing else during this time of forced isolation, I can grow a new set of dredlocks! Minimum effort required. If my hair starts to thin again, I can always cut them off and go back to my faithful friend, the teeny, weeny Afro. I mean, I am not my hair, but I really love – and miss – my locs.

And there you have it, my dredlocks story. Do you identify with a particular hairstyle? Has it been affected by #TheRona? Let me know that I’m not alone.  Feel free to share in the comments. You know I’m listening.

Be well!

LT