Friday, September 7, 2012

I Know I'm Bad. Just Slap Me Across the Face Already.

I knew I should have taken an extra ten or fifteen minutes.  I knew it.

We were in a bit of a hurry yesterday, needing to leave the house in order to meet my Mom at Costco to do a little shopping.  I looked at Lizzie's hair and it was rather atrocious - I had done nothing with it in two days and it looked matted in the back, frizzy on the top, and still a bit squashed on one side from her night cap.  It truly was in horrid looking condition and I needed at least ten minutes to work some conditioner through and finger comb through the worst of it.  But like I said, we were in a hurry...

Oh how I wish I'd done it...just phoned my Mom and told her we'd be a little late.  Because almost every time I go in public with Lizzie when I haven't done at least the bare minimum with her hair, I get comments.  From women of colour.  Sometimes positive comments and sometimes, definitely, not.  Yesterday's experience would certainly qualify as a not positive comment.

We had just started our Costco chopping when the kids saw a table of food samples that they were desperate to try.  I said yes without really taking notice and they ran over to check out the table...I was examining something else nearby.

All of the sudden, I heard a rather loud voice saying "Who does this girl's hair?"

Oh shit shit shit, I thought.  She's calling my name.  Is there any way I can pretend they're not mine?

Just as I thought that, Seth called.

"Mommy," he shouted.  "That woman needs know if you're ok with us having the snack."

Another shit shit shit.  I looked over with a smile and inside my heart shrank as I received a stern look from the black woman serving samples to children.

"Are you responsible for her hair?" she asked.

"Well, yes, I guess I am. I'm her mother," I mumbled shame-facedly, looking down and then glancing up to her eyes.  I quaked when I saw the look in them and immediately looked down under a pretence of putting an arm around Lizzie.

Her:  "Her hair needs combing."

Me:  "Yes, I know."  (pause)  "Look, I know it's awful today.  I know it.  But really, it did look great two days ago.  I had it in ponytails.  It was adorable."

Her (with tone):  "Really."

Me:  "Yes, it looked so good.  Just two days ago.  I'm so sorry about today.  I was in such a hurry.  Your hair is certainly lovely."

I said that last bit just as I looked up again and realized that her hair was netted and pushed under a Costco cap.  She gave me a knowing look that quelled me.  She knew I was full of it.

Her:  "I have five children.  Two girls.  Plus my own hair."

Me (gushing, trying to flatter her enough so that she wouldn't be mad any more): "Wow, two girls and your own hair.  I don't know how you do it.  That's a lot of work."

Well, that was the wrong thing to say, too, I gather because she gave me another dirty look and then said, "When you have children, they might be boys and they might be girls. You do what you need to do."

There was just no getting around her outrage and her expectation that I be more caring of Lizzie's hair.  I admitted defeat to myself, blew out a breath, and surrendered.

Me: "You're absolutely right.  I do need to do a better job of her hair on a more consistent basis.  I totally admit that I'm terrible with hair and I struggle with it.  I think her hair is beautiful, spectacular even, but I know that I usually don't do it justice."

Her face softened visibly in view of my genuine and heart-felt confession.  "What area of the city do you live in?" she asked.

I told her, and she gave me the name of a hair stylist in the area.   I didn't tell her that I have a great stylist for Lizzie already - that it's just me who's the problem.  She didn't need more affirmation of that fact.

She suggested that I cut Lizzie's hair very short because it would be so much easier to maintain.  I gently declined, saying that she and I were both trying to grow it out so that we could put it into long braids, or one big ponytail.

She harumphed, but then smiled for the first time and said "That is the right answer.  But you need to work more on her hair."

"I know," I sighed.

"Do you come here often?" she asked.

Me:  "To Costco?"

Her: "Yes."

Me:  "Not often, but regularly."

Her:  "I'm always here.  I will be thinking about you.  Next time, after I've thought, we will exchange phone numbers and I will figure out something.  You need help."

I thanked her and assured her that I was committed to doing a better job, and then slunk away, ready to crawl back into bed and give up on the day.

But alas, that would have been too easy.  Not a second after I'd concluded my farewells, I was charged at by my boys, who had come to tell me that Lizzie had just approached a woman, pointed to her and told her that she was very fat.

Seriously?  Could this outing get any worse?

Sadly, yes.

Behind me I heard a little "tsk tsk tsk" and it was the same woman from the sample table.  She'd overheard what the boys had told me.

I didn't look back.  I just couldn't.  I strong-armed the boys out of there and went off to deal with Lizzie.

Bad Mama.  Bad Mama.  Bad Mama.

17 comments:

  1. Ouch..feeling your pain Ruth. The hair comment is awkward, but the fat one is inexcusable. What is with people saying that to a child?
    I have two little girls with fine white hair and I find even that hard to do every morning. Usually (ok, sometimes) they look presentable, and it is me who realizes that once again I'm going out with horrible unwashed hair.

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  2. Just so we're clear, it was LIZZIE who pointed at a woman and told her that she was very fat!! And you're absolutely right - that one's just not ok!!!

    Oh well, it was a good opportunity for me to tell her about times that people have called me fat in a mean way and how much that hurt. When she finally understood, she actually got teary-eyed and told me that she loved me. I have a feeling that she'll never call anyone that again!

    Ruth

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  3. Oh Ruth, I laughed so much! You poor thing... it's Murphy's Law; whenever you just don't have time and you HAVE to leave NOW, you'll inevitably run into the hair police. We keep a bunch of hats in a basket in the coat closet, and if Z's looking a little shabby, I make her wear one. They're cute, she looks great, and I look like a good mom. :)

    This also reminded me that the very first time I ever took my 2 to the grocery store, when they barely spoke any English at all, they both stood stock still in the produce department, pointing and yelling (in their billion-decible orphanage voices), "OH! TOO BIG! TOO BIG! TOO BIG!" at a woman right in front of them. They were more than loud enough that everyone in the vicinity turned to look. It was one of the most humiliating moments of my life, simply because I could feel her pain, but I was so deep in the first-weeks-trenches that I couldn't find the words to explain. She looked like she'd been slapped. I still think about that woman and hope she's forgotten that day. :(

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  4. I'd LOVE it if Lizzie wore caps. And she LOVES caps...for about ten minutes...just enough time to get to our destination, at which point she whips it off and her hair looks EVEN worse because it gets all squished and matted from the cap! It's a no-win situation.

    And, oh yes, Gwen, the huge orphanage voices...oh I know, it's awful. I can just imagine your shock and humiliation last year...though I laughed out loud, too. Lizzie still has that voice (maybe slightly less loud) - her voice can reach me through sound-proof walls, I'm sure of it.

    I'll be thinking of this COstco woman for a long time to come, I fear. I have a feeling it'll be years before I enter a Costco without first making sure Lizzie's hair is looking pretty darn good.

    Ahh, the hair moments.

    Thanks Gwen. Hugs,

    Ruth

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  5. Ruth, I'm sorry but I think the lady at the store was totally out of line. My bio daughter is 9 and it is a struggle to get her to brush her long extremely thick hair and no one has ever come up to me and say I don't take care of her hair! And even if they did, ITS NONE OF THEIR BUSINESS! What gives this lady the right to belittle you? I think you were far too apologetic to this woman. And yes, I have a 3 year old African adopted daughter as well so I understand the whole "cultural hair thing" . But this lady was extremely rude. Don't beat yourself up over this!

    J.

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  6. Thanks J - what a gracious response...I actually felt myself sigh when I read what you wrote about not beating myself up about it! You're probably right...but I admit that it's a hard one for me. I want Lizzie to be proud of her heritage and race, and until she's able to care for her own hair, I see it as my responsibility...and it's a bit of an overwhelming one at times.

    But I appreciate the support, and clearly you have a basis upon which to offer it.

    Thanks!

    Ruth

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  7. Thanks J - what a gracious response...I actually felt myself sigh when I read what you wrote about not beating myself up about it! You're probably right...but I admit that it's a hard one for me. I want Lizzie to be proud of her heritage and race, and until she's able to care for her own hair, I see it as my responsibility...and it's a bit of an overwhelming one at times.

    But I appreciate the support, and clearly you have a basis upon which to offer it.

    Thanks!

    Ruth

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  8. I laughed (thank you, I needed that chuckle!), but then I worried that you were serious and really do think you're a bad mom. The thing about fussing over hair is it teaches our daughters that it's necessary to fuss over their hair. I think it's great to send the message that hair is no big deal. Who wants a child who primps and preens and gets worked up over her hair?

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  9. I laughed (thank you, I needed that chuckle!), but then I worried that you were serious and really do think you're a bad mom. The thing about fussing over hair is it teaches our daughters that it's necessary to fuss over their hair. I think it's great to send the message that hair is no big deal. Who wants a child who primps and preens and gets worked up over her hair?

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  10. Hey Heidi -
    Glad I could provide a needed laugh!

    SIgh...do I really think I'm a bad mom for not taking care of her hair? No, not really...mostly. But there is a difference, in my opinion, between primping and preening, and taking basic care of hair. I'll be honest in saying that I don't even always do basic maintenance with her. Lizzie's hair is extremely high maintenance - I've never experienced anything like it. It takes 1.25 hours just to comb through it...and that's after a deep conditioning etc etc etc. And that doesn't include any time allotted for styling.

    Sooo many black women have talked with me about her hair over the past 15+ months and I've learned from them that hair is a big deal...probably because it IS so high maintenance. I want Lizzie to find pride in her race and part of that, in my view, is her hair.

    So while I don't stress out tooo terribly much about how her hair looks when we go out, it is absolutely always on my mind before we leave the house...in part because I know that I (maybe especially as a caucasian woman of a black girl, I'm not sure) will receive comments (rude or not). We are readily identifiable in public because of our differences in skin colour, and I don't want an additional source or attention-getting to be her ill-cared-for hair.

    Does that make any sense?

    Thanks Heidi!!

    Ruth

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  11. Sorry...not sure why some comments are duplicating!

    Ruth

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  12. Hi again, Ruth. I am not sure if my response was "gracious" as you put it. I just don't understand what gives some people the right to make comments like that lady did in the way she did it. Without trying to sound "racist or sexist", why is it that many black ladies feel the need to mention my African daughter's hair when no one (white or black) has ever come up to me and mentioned my white daughter's disheveled look, EVER (even though they may be thinking it)! Believe me, there are mornings when she has left the house looking quite a bit worse than her sister in my opinion. (As an aside, I am actually happy that hair and makeup are not on her agenda right now, but it would be nice if she took responsibility on her own to have her hair at least looking presentable!). Sure, hair is more important in some cultures than others, and I totally agree that teaching our children to take care of themselves imports self-esteem and self love, but Is it acceptable in any culture to berate and belittle someone over their looks?

    J.

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  13. Thanks for coming back J. There's a lot to think about here, and I certainly haven't got it figured out. I do think that maybe I own this stuff a little too much (feel a little too apologetic), and I need find that line to straddle.

    I really appreciate your thoughtful comments. Thanks!

    Ruth

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  14. Hi Ruth,

    I can understand the Costco lady identifying with Lizzie because of the common culture, but I know I would have found that hard to swallow myself. It sounds as though she felt completely entitled to criticize you because of that. You had a lot more patience with her than I think I would have! At least she offered to help with the situation I suppose. Good luck! Katie

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  15. I think it's a pretty delicate thing that we're doing, parenting children of a different race. Although I've done the research and I understand The Hair Issue on a basic level, as a Caucasian woman I don't think I will ever fully appreciate the cultural and historical significance of African hair. To people of colour, the state of my child's hair reflects my ability to properly parent her. It's my hope that the care I take with Z.'s hair is a tangible indication of my respect for her race and culture.

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  16. Thanks guys - this is a great conversation and I so appreciate the different insights and perspectives. Much food for thought.

    Blessings,

    Ruth

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  17. Hahaha!!!! Oh man I have to read this to mark...I am ALWAYS insecure about Jube's hair, but the truth is that she is my fourth girl and I don't do anyone's hair...sigh. I know my kids look unkempt..but I am getting much better...really..it's just the TIME...oh man..you were so good about it..

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