Long, Beautiful Hair

I come from lushly-maned people. Both sides of the family have plenty of heads with thick, healthy locks cascading over their shoulders or swept up for somber family portraits. And how many times have I heard the story of my poor mother, the girl who couldn’t wear ponytails for the searing headaches the bunches of blonde hair would cause? I do not experience any of these things because my hair is what can best be described as spindly. It is thin, fine and a bit wispy with a cowlick smack in the middle just for fun. My brothers all got good hair, which figures since we come from boys-wear-short-hair stock and it all went to barbershop waste while mine took forever to grow and then didn’t really live up to expectations once it arrived. My mother, used to flowing tresses, had no idea what to do with the two tiny twigs sticking straight out from my head. Then someone gave her some advice--braid my hair. Every day. So, until I was in sixth grade and flatly refused to participate in the daily braiding ritual anymore, my mother braided my mousey, brown hair like Laura Ingalls. The only day I didn’t wear braids was picture day, so it seems like I’m lying when people look at my braidless school pictures. But braids I wore. In Rita Williams-Garcia’s Catching The Wild Waiyuzee, girl gets caught by Shemama and the tresses are tamed. Hey, no complaining--she could have been born with my hair.

http://www.amazon.com/Catching-Wild-Waiyuuzee-Rita-Williams-Garcia/dp/068982601X

http://www.ritawg.com/