About Folasayo

Since I was six years old I noticed the standard of Beauty, especially with hair.  Long, flowing straight hair was beautiful and acceptable.  Then there was a scale from most acceptable to most unacceptable.  The tighter the curl pattern the more unacceptable the hair was.  Beads and scrunches as diverse as the seven seas decorated the hairs of young girls.  Yet the standard was set.  I was fortunate enough to have my hair braided religiously.  My mother’s mind was set.  

My older sister and I would get our hair braided.  The smell of hot pink hair lotion and burned weave remain in my nostrils today.  Tears, snot, Kleenex and kids tynonol were the norm. The good old days of my sister and I greasing each other’s scalp were also the norm.  

In eighth grade my friend hot combed my hair.  It was after school.  She turned on the stove and put it on lit.  Then she placed the hot comb in the fire.  She would blow it to cool it off.  Then pass it once or twice through a section of hair.  By the time she finished my entire head our jaws dropped.  I know I had hair but I ain’t know it was that much.  Natural hair shrinks by seventy- five percent.  I just watched my hair go from short to long within a matter of sixty minutes.  How cool.  My hair was always an issue.  It was like event.  When I was getting my hair done everybody knew.  Everybody also knew what came Sayo’s hair day- crying, and fighting with her sister.

I remember the few times my mother did my hair.  She always had a way of making me feel like a queen.  It would just be her and I.  Yeah she was one of a kind.  My mother.  It didn’t hurt.  She would do cornrows.  At times she would do jumbo braids.  I was always shocked when my Mommy did my hair.  Like, I didn’t know she had them hands.  It was either that or the braiding salon.  I really appreciate her.  Her consistency is the reason why my sister and I had long, full, and thick hair.  My mother’s hair was very long.  She had a perm.  My sister and I would always look at my mother in awe of her beauty.  We just knew we would grow up to be beautiful.  By God’s grace we did.

“Hey Sade you and your sister be fighting?” Yeah my sister replied.  Cuz I got a couple gray hairs at the back of my hair too.  Sayo let me do your hair.  I don’t need a comb to do your hair.  There I sat in the cut getting my hair done by one of the older kids.  It was summer of ’98- when Bills, Bills, Bills, came out by destiny's child.  It was beautiful.  When I got home my mother asked me who did my hair.  I was scared to tell her.  I thought she would be mad I let somebody else do my hair.  Instead she said “tell me who did it so I can pay the person.”  I still didn’t tell her.  I noticed my gray hair at that point.  My Mom said I had gray hair since I was born.  But I noticed it that summer.  Whenever my sister and I got our hair done the stylist would ask why does your sister have gray hair.  Nobody could answer.

Jam was on my edges.  My hang time was right.  The Venus and Serena beads shaking confirmed my hang time.  The Reeboks and Keds my sister and I wore did us good.  We walked to a quarter of a mile to catch the Mattapony Bus.  It was so cool to see my friends from elementary school.  Everybody was looking first day of school fresh.  Yeah.  I was excited for middle school.  Compliments were flying in the air like birds.  “Ok look at you.  I look your shoes.  I like your stretch jeans.” But there was one I will always cherish.  “You’re hair long Sayo.” My Heart even could have cried tears of joy.  From that moment I knew what to do.

Through this experience I learned protective styling and being different.  When my sister and I morphed into young ladies our hair was past our shoulders.  A childhood of braids had protected and maintained our hair.  I also realized that we are different.  You see, all humans are different and the same.  We all are born with hair.  But, born with hair different from each other.  Therefore we all manage our hair.  But we manage different from each other.  Sometimes being different is viewed as a threat by others.  It forces people to literally look at something outside them. This causes tension and friction amongst people.  But my embracing of my hair is not to counter anyone else’s existence.  I believe we all can live in peace and harmony while we accept and embrace one another. So I am starting with myself- Ms. Folasayo.  To Be Continued …