When you're black, loving your natural hair is part of loving yourself
As a black woman, I knew that mothering three daughters meant a great deal of my time was going to be devoted to doing hair.
The rituals hadn't changed much since my sisters and I were young. Our mother would spend hours washing, drying, detangling and straightening our hair with hot combs, oils and pomades.
It was the price that black girls had to pay in a Eurocentric world, where good grooming was synonymous with smooth, straight hair - "good hair" in our black vernacular of the day.
But black folks' hair tends to grow out, like a halo, instead of down, like a mane. And all the work that goes into taming our kinks can be undone by the mere whisper of
