Photo from Essence.com
Moms and daughters often have a special bond. It is usually an unspoken thing that is cultivated and nurtured through times spent together talking, shopping, cooking, etc. One of the most universal activities moms and daughters engage in is the ritual of doing hair.
I can vividly remember back to my first house as a child, where my mom would sit me down on the floor between her legs before work to do my hair. She would wet it with water from a spray bottle and apply some kind of grease, brushing it up into ponytails that she would plait or twist. In every picture I have from my childhood, I notice my cutely coordinated outfits and tiny shoes. But most of all, I can't help but to notice how fresh and neat my hair always looked. My mom would spend a great deal of time and patience parting and braiding, adding barettes and bows to make my hair look cared for and loved.
The Washington Post beautifully captures the intimacy of the mom and daughter hair ritual in their piece by Lonnae O'Neal Parker entitled Balm: By styling her daughters' hair each morning, she was attending to something deeper than a beauty ritual. The piece is one mother's reflection on the experience of sharing time with her daughter during their daily grooming practice. She even reflects back on her experience as a child, getting her hair done by her mother before work.
One passage really struck a chord and brought to mind what it used to be like for my mom and me as we struggled through my massive bunch of kinky coily locks in the mornings before school and work.
My mother, a Chicago schoolteacher for 33 years, combed my hair and my sister's hair for 35 minutes every morning in her slip so as not to get hair grease on her work clothes. She reminds me of how much those mornings used to hurt. "You'd want to turn around and look at me with all this woe on your face so that maybe I would stop," Momma remembers. "But, you know, I couldn't stop, because you had to have your hair combed." And she had to get to work. And every two weeks, when she washed my hair, "it would be all over your head, like you had an afro the size of a small umbrella and that had to be pulled back down in something I could reasonably deal with."
The piece is accompanied by some lovely images that sweetly capture the essence of this bonding experience.
The article is touching and I am sure most of you will find some part of yourself in it. Read it and come back to let me know your memories of getting your hair done by mom (or whoever raised you).
Every Sunday I had my hair was pressed until I was about 12 years old. It was scary but because my Mom always did it, I could trust her to take care of me.
ReplyDeleteThis is a touching story I can't wait to share with her!
Yes, yes, yes to this post! I have such fond memories of my mother meticulously braiding, beading and twisting my hair every morning before school. Favorite styles--one braid in the front with two in the back, two & two, french braids! It was probably my first introduction to beauty and haircare...
ReplyDeleteI loved this article! Brought back so many memories of the wash, blowdry, and cornrow day that I have come to see as bonding time with my mom! Back then I thought it was torture time LOL but I really appreciate the time and patience that my mom had! Sad that many young girls wont even experience this! Thanks for the great read:-)
ReplyDeleteI like this post les'. Reminds me of you and mama. can we get a post about sister braiding their brothers hair? LOL might not be relevant now that Corn Rows have faded from popularity.
ReplyDeleteMaybe even a post about the intimacy of scalp greasing.
Les,
ReplyDeleteThis post reminds me of you and mama with the hot comb and even you braiding my hair back.in.the.day...
you should do a post about the intimacy of greasing a scalp.
After returning home on Saturday in the midst of the beautiful snow fall. I recovered my Washington Post paper (with inserts) and decided to relax in the den, something I hadn't done in more years than I can remember. I started with 'Second Glance' than turned the pages until I saw your article. It brought back so many memories, I began to get teary eyed. Oh' how I remember Mama!. You see my mother died when I was 10, she was 31, left behing five children (3 girls, each two years between ages and two boys). It was always on Saturday , probably every two weeks maybe longer when she would wash our hair, the term used in the 50's, not shampoo. Tthe oldest was first, her hair was long and thick and very coarse, than it was the next in line with thin, short hair, than me with medium length thick soft hair. You use the term between my "Knees" Mama would say "come here and sit between my legs". I would cry every time while she pulled through the "tangles" and plated atleast six rows of plates. It would stay that way until the hair dryed. You didn't mention the pressing comb? That was only on special ocasions, church.
ReplyDeleteThanks for bringing back those special memories, I believe this was the first time I really stopped and reflected on those special, however painful, times with Mama!
Thanks!!