Your Hair Feels Like My Dog

It was after a Pop Warner football game. I was waiting for my ride to pick me up and wait with a few the cheerleaders on my squad. As we stayed with coach, waiting for parents, I started talking with my teammates.

I started complaining about my head hurting. My white teammates asked me why my head was hurting. I told the girls that it was because my hair was done too tightly.


At the time, my hair was in a high puff. As a cheerleader for games we had to put our hair in a high ponytail. I hated the hot comb during pre-teen years. So I decided I would only hot comb my hair straight for competition season only.


I decided to let my hair free because I could not take how tight I pulled my hair back to do my puff. When I took out my hair, my puff turned into a full blown afro. It blew in the wind with all its glory. I felt so free. I felt the air breezing through my scalp and luscious thick strands. There’s something about that free feeling you get after taking out your hair. It makes you feel a sense of relief and power.

But that power was quickly taken away from me as I felt a strand a hand go through my fro and get caught.

I quickly snap my head and turn around. I grab the hand and rip it from out my hair.
“What are you doing?”, I say with an attitude to one of my white teammates (lets call her Jane)
Jane says, “ Your hair feels like my dogs hair”.

I rolled my eye. Was she serious? Dog hair? I know my hair does not feel like no damn dog hair.

If you’re thinking about touching my hair… Think again!

“It actually does not feel like a dog it feels like my hair” I roll my eyes then give her the death stare.

“It’s not a big deal, Rachel. Relax”, Jane replies in frustration.

My blood started boiling. So now it’s not a big deal that you got into my personal bubble and touch me? Oh honey, it’s a very big deal. Don’t touch my hair.

“Just, don’t ever touch my hair”, I walk away so that Jane can know that there was no more discussion after that.

I felt so violated in such a short moment in time. I felt so free letting my hair out and she ruined me embracing that feeling of setting my curls and kinks free.

I decided from that point on to put my hair in a full bun and not let my hair out for ANYONE TO TOUCH!

I NEVER wanted to feel that feeling again. But as I got older I realized how much I loved having my hair out in an afro, twist out or braid out. I want to rock my hair how I want. I want to release my inhibitions and let my hair down in all my glory. I no longer hide my fro but there are some things some people need to understand:

Black hair is beautiful and unique, but we are not your museum. I am not your experiment. I am not a lab rat waiting for you to analyze my every move. My hair is for me to embrace and work with. My hair is my linage and power. Do not ruin its beauty by putting your DIRTY hands in it.
If you’re thinking about asking to touch my hair… Think again!

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