Tuesday, October 28, 2008

My Journey....to Me


Introducing: Anduosjahla James-Wheatle, who completed a BA Hons in Social Policy and Sociology at Royal Holloway, University of London. Anduosjahla’s career involves supporting young people and their families. Anduosjahla has written poetry, theatrical scripts and directed theatrical productions. Anduosjahla enjoys the arts, and is currently rekindling a relationship with writing again….

My Journey…..to Me

Reflection

It’s a Sunday morning, my mother is greasing and combing my hair, one plait at the front, and two bunches at the back. Any distasteful noises which I made were met with extra tugging on the hair or a chop on my greased head with the comb!!! There was no scope to make demands on how I wanted my hair to be styled, it was washed, greased and styled to my mother’s specification.

My father was a Rastafarian, and I know that he had explored the idea of me also growing locks, however he came up against some resistance from my mother. Given that I was an unconventional teenager who questioned ‘why’, albeit in a polite and respectful way, I developed a strong sense of affinity with feminism. I expressed a desire to grow locks; however my mother’s response remained identical and consistent, with the response my father had received several years before. The seed is planted…

Experimentation

As I progressed through the experimental processes during my teenage years, I felt a great sense of relief when I finally obtained my mother’s permission, to relax my hair. I thought this would be easier to maintain, longer, flowing and socially acceptable, which was a classic expectation at that age. To some extent it was easier to maintain, but the need for length and flow in a vertical direction were realistically unobtainable.

The experiment began, the gels, the relaxers were utilised, as well as many different colours, high top weaves and extensions; no distance was too far for me to travel, in order for me to obtain ‘my’ look. This was all about me receiving acknowledgement, but always with the recognition that I was unique and different to everybody else, so my hair style had to be a direct reflection of me. I became bored, I knew the chemicals were no good for my hair, nevertheless I preserved. I longed to grow locks, and constantly expressed my need to make that decision, parallel to a sense of anxiety and sense of acceptance. Distinction…or was it?

Spiritual direction

I stood in the mirror less than one month ago at approximately 1am in the morning and chopped…. and chopped, the relaxed, tired and processed hair. There I was looking back at me, a face I hadn’t seen for over fifteen years, it was the natural me, natural beauty.

It was time, I had received a wink from God, He was guiding me through this next phase, nothing happens by coincidence, and it was far bigger than a ‘style’ or ‘look’. All the concerns and worries which I had were insignificant; this was the ‘I’ which was waiting to emerge. Now I have locks, my hair is the shortest it has ever been and I feel liberated, beautiful and a sense of freedom. I’ve started my journey………Patience

NB: ‘Dread’- Fear, Terror, Horror:- I do not have dreadlocks, I have ‘locks’ as I do not identify my locks with the description given above, neither are they intended to give that impression to others.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

I believe that your journey has been a complete one.