By Simone E., Editor-in-Chief
It’s been awhile since I’ve written a KKKolumn and I think it’s time. #2 This story is a bit old, but I still remember it and laugh about it to this day. During the summer one year, I attended a church camp with my roommate. It was a great camp, and I spent a lot of time with God and friends, but that’s not the point of the story. At the camp, there were cabins in which you would often sleep with those from your university, in addition to another school. Sometimes you made friends, and sometimes, after closing prayer, you just came home, ignored each other, and went to bed. If I’m remembering correctly, this was a year where my roommate and I ended up not being able to fit in the cabin room with others from our university, so we stayed with others. This wasn’t a problem, and I remember us looking forward to meeting other people. The first night was great. We were the only black girls on the side of the room we stayed in, but that didn’t bother us. We were also both natural, so did we get weird looks when we pulled out our oils and bonnets? Yes, but it’s to be expected. We had great conversations that night before going to sleep. The second night was also great. I got a question about why I had so many lotions and why I needed a bonnet, but again, no problem, I simply explained why. Do I lack patience when people ask me questions (in general)? Yes, I do. But, I was determined to be nice, and focus on the whole purpose of going to the camp: to get closer to God. So a few nights pass, and we had just gotten done with the final dance celebration. We came home and started packing up a bit so we wouldn’t have to rush in the morning. I began talking to my roommate about possibly getting braids or cutting my hair off. I told her I didn’t have a lot of money to do all that though, so maybe I’d do a wig or something. I was stating this jokingly, and my roommate knew that because I had already booked an appointment to get my hair braided. Suddenly, one of our bunkmates spoke up. She said, “well it can’t be that expensive right? I mean, I heard it was really cheap to get your hair done.” I paused and remembered the spirit of the Lord before saying, “haha where did you hear that it was cheap to get our hair done? Because I always drop at least $100 or more to get box braids and that’s pretty cheap depending on who does it or where I get it done.” She then proceeded to say that she knew someone that was black who she knew “for a fact” only paid “like $50” for her “weaves.” She then wanted to know more about “weaves” in general because she just didn’t understand why we didn’t just wear our hair out. She would “kill” to have hair like ours. I mumbled under my breath that I was sure she did want hair like ours. I then turned around, looked my roommate in the eyes, and conveyed that I was done with the conversation. My roommate then told the girl that weave is very expensive and that it’s actually pretty rare for people to spend so little on it. However, the girl insisted. She just knew it was cheap and that it wasn’t the same quality as the “extensions” her friends use. I told her that maybe she should do her research. I think at this point, she could tell I was irritated (which is a surprise, because I exercise total control of my facial expressions) because she pivoted to the fact that she loves all people and that she has plenty of black friends, but she just never asked that question before. She then said that she was an expert on hair oils because she knew someone black or something (my memory is a bit hazy on that part because I started zoning her out). The conversation ended after a pregnant pause before she added that she’d be traveling to Africa soon and that she can’t wait. Yes, this is a true story.
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December 2018
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