When I told my half-African sister-in-law that we wanted to adopt a child from South Africa, she said to me: “You have to promise me one thing: that you will take good care of your children's hair and not neglect it like all those white mothers with dark hair. children do!”. I hadn't thought about that at all until that moment. I solemnly promised her.
When I told my half-African sister-in-law that we wanted to adopt a child from South Africa, she said to me: “You have to promise me one thing: that you will take good care of your children's hair and not neglect it like all those white mothers with dark hair. children do!”. I hadn't thought about that at all until that moment. I solemnly promised her.
And then she was there: our beautiful daughter Anna. Born with a head full of hair. No bald spots, nothing. A beautiful full afro. The social worker in South Africa said we would have our hands full with the hair. She spoke from experience because she had just as thick a head of frizzy hair as Anna.
As I promised, I combed and conditioned the hair every day. The book 'Kinki Kreations' was my hair bible for a year. It taught me the do's and don'ts of afro hair and I learned how to make my first twists through the book. So far so good.....
Until Anna turned 2 and became more self-aware. She looked around her on the street and at the daycare center and came to the inevitable conclusion that she was different from most. That the blonde girls could wave their hair. That they could put in 1 tail with ease. And not Anna. She sat in front of the mirror a few times, crying and pulling her hair. Wishing she was different...