“Why am I still talking about this?

This is a picture of me from 2007. I made these t-shirts back then, and you can still buy them here.

The phrase is a sentiment I began to feel much earlier of course, sometime in my early youth when the kids and teachers in my mostly-white school poked and prodded at me from everything from my skin, to my hair, to getting tan, to why my hair didn’t look the same as theirs when it was wet. Curiosities that expressed once or twice can be dismissed as the process of learning and growth of youth, but when expressed daily, continually, become instead the failure of an educational system that allows some children to remain ignorant of those with whom they share their classrooms.

But then it continued, well into my teenage years, adulthood, and now *cough* middle-age—right up to yesterday.

I don’t feel like describing the idiot in the grocery store who got angry at me when I was not flattered by his attention to my hair…because, sure my expectations for “regular” people might be too high. Instead let me tell you that two days ago, I was talking to a black friend in academia whose boss (yes, boss), in front of a group at a work-related event (yes, in-front of everyone) grabbed her hair and commented on it (yep).

…”

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