The Kink In My Hair
Author: Ams
In my race and ethnicity class last week we discussed some of the ways racialized peoples alter their image to try to fit in with the White norm. We focused more on darker skinned people wearing light coloured contacts or altering the colour of their hair. The topic really got me thinking. I had thought about these things a few years ago and had decided that I would not dye my hair, wear colour contacts or lighten my skin. I wanted to make a statement that I was proud of who I was and I did not believe I should change the natural beauty of my body to match that of a White woman (a specific type of White woman that most White women do not look like, but still strive to duplicate onto their bodies). But this time I started thinking about the texture of my hair.
Ever since grade seven I have hated my hair - hated. I don’t think I ever really liked my hair, but I really began to hate it with a passion in grade seven. This was when I started going through puberty and I started realizing how I did not fit the ideal beauty that was set out by Canadian society. I was not White, I did not have fair skin, I was not tall, and I did not have luscious hair that was soft to the touch. My hair was big, volumous (more than desired), black, and coarse. It was hard to maintain and I had not yet learned how to “manage” it. I got my first hair straightener in grade eight or nine and I have been straightening my hair ever since. Occasionally I would leave it natural, but this was out of laziness than anything else. I started thinking about why I hated my hair so much. It’s been 10 years of this hatred and I haven’t allowed myself to stop and think about why.
Last year I had seen a movie (I can’t remember the name) about Black American women talking about their hair. I had blogged about it previously, but I only discussed the comb test in that post. I can’t remember the entire movie, but I remember that a prominent theme was the struggle that many Black women have about coming to terms about their natural hair. For many they have been treating their hair for a good portion (probably the majority) of their lives, and they had to make conscious decisions about the statement they wanted to make with their hair. Many were fighting against the image of the ideal beauty having long, silky straight hair and they wanted to send the message that their natural “kinky” hair was beautiful, acceptable and desirable.
Thinking about the messages that Black women have received and self-inflicted upon themselves of attaining this desired type of hair, I have realized that I too have done the same to myself. Also, I have accepted messages that dark, “kinky” hair is undesirable and disgusting. I have always liked the feeling of my straight silky hair after it has been straightened, but I’ve realized that this is part of the socialization that I have experienced that has taught me that coarse hair does not feel good - that the kinks need to be straightened out and erased of any undesirability. How did I not see this earlier?
So this week I did not straighten my hair. I left it natural and went out to dinner with my friends. I received compliments and scowls about my “beautiful natural hair” which I previously used to shrug off, but this time I smiled and said thank you. I have decided that I want to unlearn the hatred towards my hair and relearn how to love it. I want to take back the power I so willingly gave up to an abstract, unrealistic model image.
read comments (3)Veteran’s Green
Author: Ams
I thought it would be important to put up some pictures of the monument on Veteran’s Green that Jack addressed in his post. Many people walk by this monument everyday without a second glance. It is important to see this monument as a remembrance of those who fought for Canada and those who gave up their lives for our country too. But many do not see that the monument also represents the racism that existed during the war and how that same racism exists today through the portrayal of Canada’s veterans. The monument itself has a plaque saying “Canadian Veterans Memorial”. It clearly is not since the only people who are portrayed in the statue are all White men. This statue excludes women and people of colour. What does that say about the Canada we live in now? Who are seen as Canadian heroes? Who are seen as being worthy of remembering? Clearly the messages state that White male veterans’ stories are more important than those of female veterans and non-White veterans. And by the way, this monument was erected earlier this year, so it is not an outdated statue. It is a 2007 statue.
Oh, and just another nice tid-bit of information. The Kitchener-Waterloo area (which is where this monument is located) is highly populated with residents of German descent. This was even more so during the two world wars. Why is this relevant? Well as far as I know, none of these residents were shipped off to internment camps and stripped of their businesses and livelihoods, like the Japanese Canadians were. I find that very interesting, don’t you?
Why I Don’t Wear A Poppy
Author: Ams
I wanted to make a post today about why I do not wear a poppy. I used to say that I didn’t celebrate Rememberance Day, but after reading a post on Jack’s blog I realized that I do celebrate it, just not the way that people want me to celebrate it. So I am reposting his post because he wrote it very well and I am very proud of him.
Remembrance Day is tomorrow in Canada. These days you see many people walking around with a red poppy pinned to their jackets. We are urged to remember what the veterans did for us during the war. It’s ironic then that Remembrance Day almost completely ignores the many Chinese Canadian soldiers did for Canada during the war. Everywhere you see images of white soldiers, but where are the native Canadians, the black Canadians, the Chinese Canadians? Even at the Canadian War Museum that recently opened in Ottawa, you see no hints that any Chinese Canadians participated in the war effort.
If you dig hard enough you can find some info on the Chinese Canadian soldiers, but most people do not even know that they existed. On the Veteran Affairs Canada website, they do have a section dedicated to those forgotten soliders. Running some Google searches yield a few pieces of info here and there. But they all seem to be unanimous that the period of racism has passed, and the Chinese Canadians, in turn for their heroic service during the war, now enjoy the same privileges as other Canadians.
It’s quite sad that Canada has chosen not to acknowledge the histories of these brave men and women, who fought for the country they loved. Even now, it’s the Chinese Canadians that have to make sure that their history and heritage is not forgotten forever. There is a Chinese Canadian Military Museum in Vancouver that is dedicated to “educating the public of the Chinese fight to repeal discriminatory laws and to earn their citizenship with all the rights and privileges and stand equal with other Canadians.”
The reason why I won’t wear a poppy is because I want to remember. I remember that it wasn’t just the white people who fought for Canada. I remember the ordeals that the Japanese Canadians had to go through. I remember all the excuses given by the Canadian government to justify racism during the war. When I look at images of our war heroes — like the statue erected across from Wilfrid Laurier University, at the Veteran’s Green — I can’t help but feel a bit repulsed by all the racism and ignorance that comes with Remembrance Day.
lest we forget
Halloween Racism
Author: Ams
I just read a really interesting article on racialicious.com called Reasons I Hate Halloween. It made me think back to my childhood and my recent years to the types of costumes I’ve seen others wear. I don’t recall any racialized persons costume, but I can remember how almost all costumes are gendered. At my university (and I’m sure many others) the most popular costume is the local slut. Or at least, they will manage to sexualize any possible female character. It really sickens me. Anyway, here is the link for the article –> LINK FOR ARTICLE
I got my first mark back for grad school today and it was the highest mark in class. I’m making this out like it’s really significant, but our marks only differened by one or two percent. We all got As. Horray for us. I’m quite happy about it (because it’s an A not because it’s the highest mark). It was a book report for The Riddle of Human Rights by Gary Teeple. According to my prof, I criticize with a sharp sword. It’s a compliment I take dear to my heart. I am proud to be labelled as such.
Racism Of The Present And The Future
Author: Ams
During a class I took last term, I had responded to a professor’s question to the class regarding “race” in Canada. I stated that I believed that people of colour will never be considered ‘real’ Canadians because we will always be judged by our appearance first. A classmate then shot up his hand and asked me from across the room if I ever thought racism would be eliminated in our society. To this I responded, “no”.
I thought about this incident during my trip to Michigan two weekends ago when my family and my cousins who live in Michigan went to an amusement park. The amusement park is located in a city 2 hours away from where my cousins live, so we chose to stay in a hotel overnight. We had a hard time finding the hotel so we stopped by McDonald’s to pick up some dinner and ask for directions. My uncle and father went in alone so that we could lounge in the car. They came back with a story that really bothered me. They asked the woman who was serving them directions to the hotel, to which she quickly cut them off and declared that she couldn’t understand them and had to get someone to “translate”. She called over a Spanish-speaking worker tp speak to my dad and uncle in Spanish.
My dad and uncle just laughed this off when they told us, but everytime these things happen I have to hold back my anger. My father and uncle do have accents, but are completely fluent in English and do not have any trouble expressing themselves with the language. To assume that an accent is an indication of the inability to speak English is pure ignorance, and in this situation, impatience. It also bothered me that she thought they were Spanish. There is nothing wrong with being Spanish, but there is something wrong with assuming a person’s ethnicity based on the colour of their skin.
For the most part, I haven’t experienced this type of ignornace when I’ve been in the States. I have no intention of letting this one incident taint my positive feelings towards the States. But with every incident like this that occurs (and there have been many before this one), my statement in that class becomes more and more of a reality to me.