calls. No gifts in the mail. Nothing. Knowing his child’s mother is gone. So, I know we’re blessed to be here. While Mom is gone, we’re not in foster care or living with a relative we hate.”

“Your mom loved you girls very much.” Ms. Brielle sounded like she wanted to cry.

I looked up toward the ceiling to keep the tears from falling and messing up my makeup. “Well, I wanted to be a good daughter by being the best big sister I can be to Keylisa. Give my all to making good grades so I am not a burden to Aunt Tanya and Uncle Corey. No one asked me how I felt about losing mom after we stopped seeing the lady after service at church.”

Ms. Brielle made the pucker your lips face. How am I supposed to talk with my lips poked for gloss or shine or whatever is on that little brush in her hand? She finished a moment later.

“Anyway. Between trying to hold on to my memories and teach Keylisa about her while not feeling weird every time someone talked about their mom, I didn’t have time to think about my hair.” I tilted my head to the side to mirror the way Ms. Brielle held her head. She leaned in and started doing something to my eyebrows. “Now all I can wonder is how am I going to not look like those girls they roast on social media for looking busted while playing sports. You know the memes. Even radio people trash women athletes. They love to talk trash about black women. I’m almost eighteen. I can’t put a ponytail in my own hair.”

Ms. Brielle paused. “My goodness, you’re right. We never stopped to think about teaching you how to do your own hair. I think we assumed you’d pick up what to do from being around here. Or just explore the videos and learn how to care for it on your own.”

I shook my head. “No, Ms. Brielle.”

“I think they fired that guy. If not, God will get him. You can’t let folks who are too whatever is wrong with them to be respectful of others keep you from being you. Yes, you’re going to be a black woman. You’re also an intelligent, ambitious, hard-working girl who loves helping others. People who matter will see you for who you are and ignore idiots making wisecracks.”

I laughed. “Tell that to the dummies liking stupid stuff like that. Or making ‘do you prefer black girls or white girls’ videos on TikTok. Nothing I do will matter according to all the experts if I don’t look perfect doing it. Yes, people are trying to change the status quo attitude, but when you look at the people who succeed, they still don’t match the new message. The least I can do is show up to a volleyball game with my hair in a nice top knot or ponytail that will continue to look nice no matter how hard I play.”

“You’re right, darling. We assumed you knew more than you do.” Ms. Brielle turned me around in the chair. “I’ll be sure to include making time to teach you how to do the styles or keep them up when we do your hair each week. I’ll start with telling you what to look for when you buy your shampoo. They are not created equal. You need them to include certain ingredients, and you must avoid others for your best hair. Deal?”

A big smile covered my face as I stared in the mirror. I looked flawless but not like I’m wearing any makeup. “Thank you.”

“You still haven’t told me what you’re going to say about why you said what you said on Instagram. People are nosy. They’re gonna tune in to see what you have to say. Some of them will even be hoping for some drama, sass, and more mess. People are also going to be open to you sharing what prompted your pop off. Lots of teenage girls are under pressure, just like you from their family. Society. Themselves. Give your truth some space, tell them how you felt. Why you were so out of pocket. Then even some of the ones who came to be nosy will stay because they’ll start to care.”

I nodded, but I didn’t understand. Care? About me and my hair decision for college. Why? “Truth be told, I’m just going along with this to get our family back to normal. Nothing has been the same since I made that post. Gosh, I just want to decide how I want to wear my hair. Not lead some online discussion.”

“Still stalling,” Ms. Brielle paused in front of me. “Nevermind practicing for the camera. Talk to me. I’m your godmother. You know you can tell me anything. Get it off your chest.”

Tears threatened again. I dropped my head back, blinking as fast as possible while focusing on the ceiling. Once they were gone, I took a deep breath. “Keylisa and I were not supposed to be here. Mom died. I wanted to be the best big sister possible. Promised mom I’d always be a good girl, help Aunt Tanya when she left town for work. I enjoyed modeling for Aunt Tanya before mom died and even had fun. After the counseling ended at church, I just channeled all my negative energy into being positive. Mom always said to be positive. Wanted to make her proud. Didn’t want to seem ungrateful to Aunt Tanya and Uncle Corey.

You know how hard she worked to get this place up and going ahead of schedule so she didn’t touch our college fund. Everything she sacrificed made me love her even more. She never complained, but I know she canceled a lot of her own plans to care for us. Complaining about not being asked what I wanted to do with my hair seemed trivial.

Teaching Keylisa about our mom, being a good big sister, and making sure I get a scholarship for college

Вы читаете Me, My Hair, and I
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