About

But wait... "How does a person forget they are Black?"...

My last perm was for my sister's wedding in early 2004. I had toyed with transitioning that fall, decided to do it and by the Summer of 2004, I officially began transitioning from my chemically relaxed straight hair to my natural "kinky/curly" texture. I washed and twisted my hair, braided it, and fell in love with what was growing underneath.

My hair had been a pivotal part of my journey to discover my "blackness" - my sense of self.

I suppose it is easier than one might think to conveniently deny what is an obvious part of your identity.  I was far from being able to pass, but embraced that possibility and lived behind a mask I created for myself.  At the height of my "whiteness" I toyed with the idea of a nose job.

At the height of my whiteness, I toyed with the idea of a nose job.

I spent the summer of 2004 reflecting a great deal on my journey and writing poems.  Every afternoon or evening after work, I would sit in some cafe in Metro Detroit and write.  By the end of the summer, I had the next project for my collegiate theatre group, Black Curtain, "The Day I Found Out I Was Black".  I didn't use only my poems, but included well- known and not so well known pieces about identity.

It was a successful production that I hoped would be published, but I'm not a poet - I'm a playwright, I have friends who are poets and these poems were stories / monologues that rhymed maybe...plucked from my life.

After having my daughter earlier this year, I thought that maybe these poems would be nice as a children's book - encouraging young Black women to embrace the natural texture of their hair.  After 8 years of holding onto these poems, I have finally decided that this is the best place for them.    This blog is my story, I suppose - my voice among a million others - but more so, I hope it speaks as encouragement to women looking for self-acceptance.

I flipped - learned to love what it meant to be black and embraced everything about myself.

We Wear the Mask

Paul Laurence Dunbar  

    WE wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

    Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

    We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!