by Shellie Moore Guy
a contemplative hopeful piece
set to the melody of We Shall Overcome
dedicated to every single strand
of willful curly kink
and every area of the Kitchen
that refuses to be tamed.
A piece for every brown baby girl
Every precious delicate soul
who will be shamed
and made horrified by the wild mas
of beauty someone will call
Bad Hair
before she will form an opinion
and an a opinion of her own.
As I sit twirling the twists
And turns of my Nappiness
I long to reach out and protect
that unsuspecting little girl
whose eyes will gaze into a mirror one day
and see a need to make a liar out of
Perfection.
Who will be robbed and forced to believe
what is natural
an abomination
what is God-given
a betrayal
What is African
Ugly.
Who will be made a Slave to a hot comb and a chemical
growing up to damage someone else.
The blind leading the blind.
And so it goes.
This is an act of penance
a plea for forgiveness
a Nappy hair Piece
for the daughters
sisters, friends I lied to taunted
and shamed
Ignorant of my own beauty
victim of self-hatred once dragged kicking and screaming
to a chair beside a stove
holding my ear and a promise.
Today I gaze into the mirror
Unafraid
Of my beauty
Unafraid
Of my New Growth.
Photo Credit: Shutterstock