My hair defines me
My land and my country is held in my hair that grows and holds me
I touch my hair it is fuzzy soft and enjoyable to play with
I have hidden treasures in my hair
Once I carried a strong wooden comb it sat cradled in my hair
I felt a sense of being safe
I combed my hair with it
And built up my afro.
I have tried to tame my hair by plying it with foreign poisonousness chemicals
But to no avail, my hair rebelled and fell to the ground in huge lumps
New short tight fuzzy hair grew in its place
I tried to put heat to it with a hot iron but again when interacted with water
My hair positioned itself back to its natural state.
I have tied it bound it twirled and plaited wrapped a scarf around it placed a flower
In it and still it creeps out and reveals itself
My hair was on show when I was young
A teacher in primary school stood over me one day
With a pencil in her hand she searched among my fuzzy hair
My hair took the brunt of hate called dirty and smelly
Hated, it was uncontrollable hard to deal with could not be tamed.
Yet my hair knows me I am starting to know my hair.
My hair connects me to my fathers my
Grandmothers my cousins my family. I don’t want my hair tamed. I don’t want my hair
Controlled.
I look at my grandma and see her hair that is deeply rooted in her background
She is beautiful.
I look at my grandma and see her the backbone of my grandma the smile of my
grandma
The eyes of my grandma the hands of my grandma and most of all the beautiful shiny
clear skin of
My grandma.
And.
I call to you all who speaks who listens who hears.
In this here place Baby Suggs in Toni Morrison’s Beloved says
We flesh flesh that weeps laughs flesh that dances on bare feet in sand on Indigenous
lands.
Love it love your feet
Love your legs as they carry your beautiful body that
You think is unloved and despised
They out there can’t love you you must love you.
Love your skin love your neck that have held chains unshackle yourselves
Don’t let your neck be their tool for death straighten up your neck face them.
Love your hands raise them up kiss them touch others with them stroke your face
Love your face because they have tried to change us.
Love your mouth hear what comes forth.
Most of all Love your beating heart take in air for each time you breathe
Is a political statement for we have survived occupy and enjoy.