Some of you African American men and women know about the power of the wig and if you don't then you are about to learn!
You see her walking down the street and she looks like one of us, the nose and the lips, but it's a little deceiving because of that nice hair on her head. It looks like Chilli's from the 90s musical group TLC. Her friend has some nice hair too, something like Tyra Banks. The two together are exotic looking, one a mocha mix and the other something like chocolate milk. Now these women with their straight and wavy hair -- bought and paid for -- are so comfortable in their wigs that they almost forget that the hair isn't real until it's time to take it off! Here lies the problem.
Whether it's a wig, an extension glued or sewn on, it isn't real it is fake. You know it and I know it, but the non-black man or woman don't know it especially if they aren't use to being around blacks in their natural state (you know 70s afros -- power to the people!) Case in point, I was one for hating wigs until I decided to cover up my share of bad hair days with one and then I grew to like it. I loved the flawless look it gave me. Rain or shine my hair, I mean my wig, was always tight! But the reality of this deception hit me not once, not twice, but about three times now. The "friends" that I won with the first impression in my wig, had treated me different when the wig came off!
The first occurrence happened when I had a shoulder length straight, black wig with flips at the ends. I assume that the white woman who interviewed me thought I was an Hispanic mix. I found out later she loved her some Hispanic folks! She was always asking me how I was doing and eager to help me, but one day I came to work and my co-workers were complimenting me on my natural hair while she was looking at me oddly. I guess my curly wet, set was too much for her! (See here.) Soon after, she seemed to act different. I guess my hair gave her the idea to do some snooping on my background too. I recall some lighthearted conversation when she wanted to learn more about "Where I was from?" I thought we went over that already, "hmmm..." I thought.
The next experience was when I met a man at a thrift store. I told him about some books I was selling. He was Indian. He looked me over and was smiling ear to ear. That day I had a wig that was black, shoulder length, and straight with bangs similar to the kind some Asian women wear. Anyway, he kept looking at my hair and me. I didn't like all that looking since he was old enough to be my dad, but I also needed to sell my books so I went on and made arrangements for us to meet. Everything went well with the transaction and at times he was looking at my hair as if studying it. Weeks later I see him in the same store and he claims he didn't recognize me, but then said, "I thought it was you." Guess what? I didn't wear my wig that day and his reaction toward me with my Halle Berry cut was, "What happened to your hair? Why did you do that?" Remember I said he was Indian. I think he figured me out as he really studied my face this time, "Oh she's black..." Funny, he didn't do too much talking to me like he did both times when he saw me in that wig!
The last experience was with a Mexican woman who was all smiles when she invited me over with my two boys at a park to sing a birthday song to her son. I wore the same wig that I wore with the Indian guy. She introduced me to the other women there, Hispanic and white. There was no evidence of a single black mom in the group except for me. But did they know I was black? Well she would soon find out, because one day while sitting at a library I see her and I am smiling wide, "Hello, remember me!" I say. She studied my face for a second looked at me like I was stranger and then when she realized it was me, she wasn't smiling much. Now if someone greeted you all smiles, wouldn't you smile back? Maybe she was too concerned about recruiting people to her group and wanted to know why I wouldn't jump on the bandwagon with the other moms, I could have asked her that, but she is looking at me like those other people looked at me when I took off my wig! Uh oh!
She was looking at my real hair and my face and back to my hair and my face again. So I made small talk since she seemed a little distant. She realized what I was doing and chatted for a little, still looking at me. "Yes honey, I'm black not a bi-racial Hispanic you probably thought I was!" I wanted to tell her, but I didn't.
When I think back to other experiences like one with a Filipino woman who was always calling me, "My sister," I realized that these people were trying to figure me out. I had to tell the Filipino woman, "I'm not your sister...I mean I'm a sister, but not yours." She said she would claim me anyway and suggested there may be some Filipinos in my family. Last I checked there is no Indians (you know the ones from India,) no Latinos, and no Filipinos.
Maybe that's why the Asians look at me with pity in their eyes sometimes, "Poor child, she black wearing our hair!"
Nicholl McGuire is thinking about making a national day for sisters who want to burn our wigs!
1 comment:
Nice Post! It is nice to see that American women inventorsare progressing and coming up with innovative new ideas. It sure is necessary to compete with countries like China and India.
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