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Tuesday
Mar062007
Change!
March 6, 2007 
Katy found this photo in my Flickr account and asked me about it, so I thought I'd oblige.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, HAIR! Or maybe you're not, maybe you're wondering if I've been caught in a windstorm. Inside. Or thinking that I've been sucked into the fan. Or have invested heavily in hairspray. But actually, this photo is one of a few that I asked my Superstar Husband to help me take, in a series about Change.
Because what signifies change like hair? Nothing, really. There aren't many things about ourselves that we can change, like hair. I mean, tattoos are permanent. So, sometimes when change needs to happen and it needs a symbol to guide it, people reach for their scissors or their black dye to DO something.
I remember the time, when I was eighteen, that I tried to streak my hair. I had never used bleach before, and I piled the chunks of bleached hair on top of my head to wait for the bleach to work. What ended up happening was that I had a platinum skunk stripe all the way down the center of my head. It was wretched. So, I did what any sane person would do, and added streaks of blue and pink. You know, just to add to the troll baby effect. My hair was red at the time, so I had red, white, blue, and pink hair. Not only that, but my best friend dyed her hair black and I used a bit of her dye for more streaks.
It actually looked pretty wonderful. Because of my super curly hair (the little girls in the playground would always yell out "Spice Girl!" at this time in my life) and unconventional way of dressing in old tacky dresses, I got away with it. My friend Carolyn said to me, one day, "You've always been the epitome of freedom to me, Rae, but this really tops it!"
Now I look back at that girl and think, epitome of freedom? HAH! I was definitely bound up. I just didn't know it at the time.
But then there was the time that I moved from one community to another. I was nineteen, and it was a really, really hard move for me. San Francisco was a beautiful, yet ice cold place to me, and I left some of the best friends of my life to be somewhere that I was a stranger. I felt a huge rebellion against this life decision, and something needed to be DONE about it. So, yes, I cut all my hair off and made the first cut at the very front of my head, half an inch away from my scalp. Chinua was with me, only my "friend" at the time. You know a man is made for you when he sees you make a move like that and is only admiring, despite your lumpy head and silly new hairstyle. Although, he'd probably try to stop me if I did something like it now. Did cutting my hair settle my inner resistance to my new life? I don't know, but it was a symbol, and definitely part of loss and identity crisis for me at the time. I wrote a poem about it. I'll look around and see if I can find it, to post it.
My hair just sort of grew out, after this point. (This is a really interesting story, isn't it? I can tell you're just thrilled to be hearing the story of my hair. And I skipped Junior High! For anyone who's seen my Uncle Larry picture, you know that I skipped the best part.) The only major change was that I stopped dying it red. It was a statement in itself. I had always hated having blond hair, so to let my hair do it's natural thing was another step for me. Maybe even more freeing than dying it crazy colors, but I walked away from the semi-permanent shrine circle and saved me some money, too.
And then, of course, right around the time that Kid A was born, I started to let my hair dread up. And it was another symbol, for me, one of settling in to motherhood, to a new me that had grown out of the old me. Settling into my crazy hippie community a little more. Becoming more tied into my life, sighing into the ever increasing restraints that marriage and motherhood and community had offered me. (It is a constant rebellion, this thing inside of me, that I have to squelch all the time.)
And these photos, well, I don't know what exactly they are. An excuse to tell you my hair history. Probably just more freedom. A need for change, a need for God to blow me around a little. Reading through my old journals, I see that I have changed in ways that I didn't mean to. I have squelched that rebellion a little, yes, but I have also crushed a little faith out, a little romance, some kindness, some ridiculous positivity and hope.
I can feel change coming, it is in the air. It is all around, and this is what I want to teach my children. Change is there when you need it, change of your heart is one of the constants, always available if you ask. "Incline your ear to me; answer me speedily in the day when I call!"* We are not stuck. We may not always be able to effect our circumstances, but God is always available to breathe a difference into our hearts.
So, that's the story of that photo. What about you? Do you have any hair stories? Or maybe other stories involving the symbolism of change?
*Psalm 102:2
Reader Comments (10)
Thanks for that story and the psalm at the end, because I do feel stuck!
You forgot to say in your story that some family members told you that you looked like a "little pony" toy with all the colors. They were actually quite fun.
To me the photo looks like you're dancing and I thought at first you were sharing a story about your African dancing. I agree with Carrien that you look beautiful when you dance!
Sorry I was trying to say your hair was quite fun, not "they". Your hair was fun and I liked it red as well!
I love the photo. And the story. I've never thought of my hair as being very significant. In high school, and only a bit beyond, I used to straighten mine. And of course use a LOT of hair spray to get the front up in something my friends refered to as "the wave". That was to go with the back eyeliner and purple lipstick and pale face powder. I guess I let my hair do its natural thing around the time I stopped wearing makeup. (At least on a regular basis- I still wear it sometimes, but a bit more subtly now.) A couple of times I've let my hair grow really long and then cut it short and sent it to Locks of Love. I always grow it out again though. It's easy, and I don't really have to think about it too much. So, if anything my hair to me now is a symbol of the me that was always there but I was trying to hide or that I didn't really know or care for. Now I think of it as femine and beautiful, just the way it is, and I like it.
Sheesh, you asked for all that!
Ok, so what's the thing with us women and hair. I have my hair stories too. For me, it's part of a statement of who I am. When I look in the mirror (which I try to avoid) I don't want to see my mother. Somehow my hair style affects whether or not I see her looking back at me. So I have chosen my hair styles based on that. I've grown my hair long and done the Locks of Love thing, and will probably do that again. Whatever it takes to see me in the mirror.
Yeah! I'm not alone! Changing my hair fulfills so many purposes in my life - therapy, exercising control over something, and a demonstration of freedom when other things in my life are out of control!
The whole change this is always so inevitable and yet i always fight it as much as i can when it is happening. For whatever reason just when i get into "comfortable" seasons of life God up and changes thing. This last change has been the hardest yet. In hindsight however it also is seeming to be the best and most necessary. I never would have realized areas of captivity I've grown numb to or been too comfortable with to do anything about. I never would have pressed in Jesus as hard as I am right now. Anyways, long story short change is good.
I'm one of those "grow it out/cut it off to send to locks of love" girls too. I look forward to the change of cutting it way short to have spiky funky fun hair-but the sloooowww growing process I'm in right now, not so much. I do see both acts as a reflection of my inner-self transforming as well. Growth is hard but oh so necessary and rewarding! I'll be going to China in the next year to adopt our Baby Girl and would SO LOVE to be able to bring ponytail ties and ballcaps for my hair instead of mousse, gel, pomade, molding paste and cans of hairspray. Maybe the act of growing it all out will make our long adoption wait seem shorter and more valuable somehow. Very cool picture of you, by the way.
I loved reading this Rae. I would love to see pitures of the red/white/blue/pink/black hair. I change my hair often but I'm not very introspective about it. Mostly it's just an "I'm bored, let's change" kind of a decision.
I loved your story, I'm a little late on the reply, but whewy, I am glad i shared your picture and poetic history, I thought you were jumping on a trampoline or bed in a zen moment, it's a great photo...
i don't remember your hair dye experiences,
it sounds like you've really evolved,
It is a wonderous thing to reflect on change, and it's important place in our faith and lives,
Wow, Hair, how attached we can become...
I once had dreads, after my first daughter was born I grew my hair long, and smoothly, it was so nice, and then I let it dread, and next thing you know one of my best gal friends (who actully has the same hair type as you, orangey, blondy curly, and super tight curls) she dreaded my hair with Notty boy dread wax... it was so great to have dreads, and then my daughter grew and grew to the point she would pull on them, ouch!!! one hot summer travelling in our van on the way to wistler through the interior i just couldn't take it anymore, and a friend (who is a web'designer/hair expert) gave me a super hot pixie,
I grew it again four years later to experience the same, ahhhh I have to cut it all off experience this last winter, and now i feel liberated,
Hair is great, everyone has a different colour natural wave, and highlight, and it can be super fun for a while, but I don't ever want to be too attached to it, My daughter is now six and it's unpleasant to cut, comb or even "do" her hair, she likes it au natural, but our hair is fine, so no dreads thus far.. I love your kids hair, you are all so cute,!
one of my favorite movies to watch / listen to is Hair.... watch out for the hairy krishna's in it!
thanks for sharing,
'be the change you want to see'
-ghandi
I love that pic.
Hair has also been something special to me. My grandmother had a barbar shop when I was growing up and I remember being amazed at what she could do with it.
I have this wonderful red color that can not be recreated in a bottle. I often want to color mine blue but than feel guilty because so many people try to dye theirs to match what I naturally have.
When I was younger, I grew it very long and cut it all off the when I was 19. I would start to grow it but when a baby came along, I'd chop it again.
I'm currently growing it to donate and I'm having a hard time right now. We are living in Florida and it's hot and I want to chop it all off but I've decided that I'm doing this and a year and a half into it and I just can't give up. I dream of how short I will cut it when it's long enough to donate.