"Can I Touch Your Hair?"

She approached me with her long blonde hair

flowing in the wind. Her eyes darted at my

afro puff that stood so tall it was fighting the brutal winds

that were pushing it too and fro. Click clack her heels

hit the floor as she excitedly came toward me.

Can I touch it? she says with her eyes drilled

at my hair and with her hand reaching for my head

as if she was a kid eagerly pulling candy from a bowl on Halloween.

I did not want to seem rude so I change my look of

disgust to a huge smile and say Sure! She squeezes

and pets my fro as if I was an animal, a dog who

follows her orders. With one question I was under her command.

I did not know YOUR TYPE of hair was so soft. This was not what I was expecting. Maybe I should wear my hair like this.

YOUR TYPE! I exclaim in my head. I nod and smile with my

body language and she walks away as if I was an animal at the zoo

looking to find her next thrill. I became so enraged by the language she

used to imply that I was supposed to be an animal.

She spoke as if I was supposed to look rough and dirty with no home. As

if the chains my ancestors were stuck in, did not affect her words.

The girl spoke like she did not notice the black president

who is holding office as we speak. She was blind to the

success of African Americans and blurred by the poor

blacks who are killed by the police. It wasn’t that she wanted

to touch my hair that upset me. It was that I couldn’t say no.

I was afraid she had the power to make me seem weak.

She had the power to put her knee on my neck as I scream

I CAN'T BREATHE! She held the power to walk from the store

holding skittles with the wind hitting her gold locks,

without getting killed by a white male. She could play

with a BB gun and not get called a danger to society.

I had to remember we are not animals. We are kings and queens in the

countries we were taken from. We are courageous,

loud, and proud. We speak our voices when

oppressed. We shout that our lives matter. We sit in

the front of the bus. We kneel in protest.

We become president. We hold up our fists at the Olympics.

We join sports we are not invited to.

We speak up when we are uncomfortable. Even if that means

saying NO YOU MAY NOT TOUCH MY HAIR