Today I saw something I've never seen--well, maybe I've seen it once before, but it's very rare. I saw a little girl who was about 6 years old at the restaurant I ate at tonight.
I couldn't even see her eyes because she had her hair in an afro that fell over them. It was a type 4 afro--not type 3 curls which is usually more acceptable. I was loving it. I was loving that somebody in her circle is telling her from a young age that her hair is okay the way it grows from her head.
She didn't see anything wrong with her afro hair being out like that in public and I was glad that her mother (grandmother?) or whoever she was with obviously had no problem with her being seen in public like that even though the woman's hair was relaxed.
I thought it was a great thing and I wanted to reinforce things and tell this little girl that I loved her hair. But I didn't.
Suddenly I'm reminded of this Sesame Street I Love My Hair Song. Enjoy.
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