Tag Archives: History



So smartphone users and habitual texters, if you applied the 80/20 rule to your friendships could you remember to enjoy yourself in the moment; listen to the people you were interacting with; and have a good time where you were… you know, like we use to. Or would the grass be greener on the other side: on Facebook, the internet, Twitter, the person texting about the party they’re at? Anywhere but where you are?

In the madness of technology, how many have forgotten how to be a Luther Vandross song and “Love the one you with?” Has our frenzy for bigger and better gadgets become our adopted personas where we’re constantly trying to upgrade our situation? Yeah, we’ll go and have a good time, that is until someone contacts you and says they’re having a better time. Then the battle of  “good times” ensues. The loser ditches their jag for yours. and reset. and reboot… as the night ensues we look for everything wrong to find a new right. Is anyone enjoying themselves anymore?

“It has become appallingly clear that our technology has surpassed our humanity.”

Albert Einstein

I feel we’ve lost our ability to connect with ourselves and others.  We skim the service but never delve further…  Are we a society of mangled hearts afraid to trust?  What becomes of us if we only allow ourselves to be vulnerable to animals?  Those who guard our hearts and secrets because they are unable to speak?  They can not reveal last night you cried for hours or you made a big mistake the other day, but I’m going to love you anyway.  Is that our fear?  Is that the root of these manic feelings, that we don’t feel lovable if you got to know us?  Are you worthy to be loved, flaws and all?  If you showed society your chips and scrapes, would you be labeled a survivor or a loser?

When the mask is off, what lies beneath is the thing of beauty- a debt paid to society by existing and stripes earned by living.  It may not be newsworthy but how you got to be where you are; who shaped who you’ve become; and where you’re headed in your journey is the true story.  It’s a tale of struggle and triumph.  It’s a saga of morality.  It isn’t a question of right or wrong.

I’m Nobody! Who are you? Are you Nobody too?

-Emily Dickinson

It’s validity and relevance is a birthright by rights of humanity, and that is worth sticking around and getting to know.  My jewelry box of friends were found when I dug past the top soil and unearthed rich clusters of dirt… that when washed away unveiled vibrantsparkling gems. 




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Black Dirty Laundry: “Huuur”

African- Americans [notice that I didn’t say Afrikaans, Jamaicans, Haitians, etc. but good ol’ U.S. of A Black Americans] are so brainwashed that:

Nappy has become a derogatory description in their language.  It is a negative attribute to have.  Though it is the hair in it’s natural state, it has actually become quite “unnatural” and uncommon for a woman to keep it that way.  Women who wear their hair sans the process are often depicted/viewed as less beautiful and unfeminine… ridiculed by family, friends, and strangers.  Men often express dislike for it, preferring a woman with “long flowing straight” tresses.  Many woman buckle beneath the pressure only to later go natural in life.  I’ve certainly noticed a continuous mass exodus in my mother’s age group [40+] of ladies forgoing the hair crack for chemical free, healthy hair.  Most of them who have not or do not are those married and forbidden by spouses.   So each year that passes, the African-American woman begins to look less African and more American. 

Personally speaking, I’ve chosen to forego putting something that can dissolve a soda can so close to my brain or directly in my pores as <—- that is how I see it.  I do not feel superior to women who monthly perm or that I’m “more connected”.  I see it as a matter of health but I, in regards to vanity, am not my brothers and sisters keeper— do what makes you feel good but safely.  However, where I don’t give it a second thought I notice when I become more beautiful and prettier:   When I straighten my hair.  Oh compliments come at me like the scent of apples in an orchard.  It isn’t that I’ve transformed but that I’ve conformed. Muscle memory triggers there brain  saying now she looks proper!  During the early days of emancipation and the civil rights movement, blacks who looked less ethnic were able to get better positions thus beginning this elitist mentality and negative outlook on hair (amongst others).  Slick that shit down and straighten that mess out the public cried!  European yourself out, i.e. “White is Right” or get left further behind.   One has only to open a magazine, as I’ve previously written, to see colored faces with hair that is soooooooo NOT the truth. 


My niece has to choose between  seeing the modern Farrah Fawcett waves and layers cut or the Interracial green or blue eyed chicks with long curly afros.  She looks at her hair and thinks it is ugly unless it is straight combed or very neatly corn-rowed.  I am her glamorous, creative “Tee-Tee”  so she views me as attractive both ways.  However, when we are out she repeats what she’s heard other adults and (the parrots they’ve trained)their children  say.  She leans in and snickers, “Auntie Kim her hair ugly ain’t it?”  and when I ask why she thinks that, the answer is always because it’s nappy.  I look at who she’s referring to.  The black girls with their ebony kinks spun into cotton candy, confectionary pony tail perfection; the grandmothers in the store; the young ladies.  Who?!?  She doesn’t know she speaks of us all.  There in lies the rub.   

Nappy is not an insult.

Does not mean ugly.

Black people, nappy is not ugly.

If Nappy Hair is bad so is Black Skin, just think about it for a moment.  If you modify yourself, don’t deceive yourself into forgetting your “roots”.  I could no more criticize natural hair than I could this wide nose or full lips, these hips, the rhythmic way I walk, the timbre of my voice.  Because Black people should be allowed to look like black people.

My name is Kg and my kinks, coils, and curls be nappy….


Filed under Grow, Love