Weave

I went to an inner city public school with a magnet program. The proportions of the school were something like as follows: 54% Hispanic, 40% Black, 5% White and 1% Asian. As you might guess, the 5% were all in the magnet program. This did not mean that all the White kids were better off than the rest; it meant that the neighborhood around the school was predominantly Black and Hispanic. However, this was often interpreted as some kind of holier-than-thou racism. I never quite understood it.

As one of the minority, I was from time to time subjected to contempt, anger, and ridicule. Some were more subtle than others. But one of the strangest I can recall happened late in the spring of my junior year.

I was heading home at the end of an unusually pleasant (weather-wise) day. My car was parked in the back lot, past a number of buildings that only held classes for students who were not in the magnet program. As it was a nice day out, I had let my hair down for once. My hair, for those of you who don't know, is a giant mass of frizzy, curly, auburn tangles that, when well treated, goes down about to my waist. Most of the time it is either too hot out or too much of a pain to let down.

As I walked past the last of the buildings towards the parking lot, I passed a group of girls from the regular program sitting on some stairs. I didn't know them, and they seemed engrossed in their conversation, so I walked by without thinking too much about it. Suddenly, I felt a great pain in my scalp, stepped backwards and whirled, ready to face my attacker.

One of the girls had gotten up, reached out, and grabbed a large hank of my hair towards the bottom. She immediately let go and backed away as I turned, saying only, "Nice hair."

I contemplated the situation for a stunned moment, deciding to let it go. "Thanks. Don't ever do that again." I walked away hoping they wouldn't follow me. They didn't.

Hours later, I realized that she hadn't meant to hurt me- she'd thought I was wearing weave and wanted to tear it out and make fun of me. The preposterousness of the whole event boggles me to this day.