By Tene’sha Crews •
Had Her Hate for Her Hair been cultivated or passed down?
Passed through words like “nappy” and “needing of a perm
Ignoring the monthly visits of that scalp stinging burn
Like first it was grandmother, then mother, now it’s your turn
To gradually detest your natural strands is what you’ll learn
“It’s time for a relaxer”, a word meaning to tame
Sticking up in every which way, wild like a lion’s mane
Or the muffled cries of a child, shielding mother from shame
Her hair had lost its identity, maybe it had a name?
But we’ll never tell because straightened white–I mean, right
It looks the same.
As same as the women from black & white television screens
To today’s colored commercials promising straight with sheen
The Hate of Hair often follow from childhood to teens
Until blind lies covered in chemicals and lye are seen
Only then do they see that their hair naturally crowns them as queens
Tene’sha Crews uses activism, poetry, and art to encourage people to make a difference in the issues that affect varying communities.