Well, as you can tell, those people really hurt my feelings. I’m a naturally sensitive person, and sometimes when I’m in situations like that I don’t know what to do. What would you do? This happens frequently, and I need a new method. 🙂 -Kimbles
Hello Kimbles. I just had to say something after seeing your post here. I am black too… a pure-bred African (pardon the expression).
And I have lived all my life in my home country so I haven’t experienced first hand any of these. But I think I understand quite well how you must have felt. Possibly a bit like a fish outta water.
I firmly believe though that we are all beautiful despite what our hair looks like, curls like or what colour our scalp is (mine’s rather short by the way ).
So keep your chin up and rock your ‘fro cos if anything… you deserve to be happy. ☺
Whoops, didn’t mean to send it yet, but basically, we get to the bathroom, and It looks crazy. It’s got dust particles from the door, it’s every which way it’s dry and breaking, and I look like a maniac. The girl around me are looking at me out of the corners of their eyes, flicking their hair, drying off. My eyes well up with tears and I dash into a stall before anyone can see me cry. I sit on the toilet, and yank at my hair in frustration, as tears trickle down my cheeks. My hair band breaks when I try to tie it up. I even try a freaking shoe lace to pull it back. Then I just wipe my eyes and walk out.
EVERYONE IS STARING. EVERYONE. It’s all I can do not to break down. I get to stupid people science class, with me and some foreign kids and some other kids in my year, and Mr. Fraine is explaining stuff. “Do you understand?” He asks in his really slow voice. Miriam (spanish) nods, Matthew (chinese) nods. He turns to me. And I swear on my life this is true.
“Kimberly, do you understand it, what I’m saying?” I’m a little confused and I say “Yeah. Of course I understand what you’re saying, why wouldn’t I?” He looks embarrassed and is all like “Oh I’m sorry I didn’t know if you spoke- I haven’t met- Okay.” And I get what happened. HE THOUGHT I WAS FROM A FREIGN COUNTRY AND DIDN’T SPEAK ENGLISH.
I sit through a double maths lesson, and no one talks to me, I talk to no one. I ask to go to the toilet, I cry a bit, but then I feel stupid. I I just get a little ballsy and strip, step in the shower, and wet my hair, comb it through with my fingers, steal someones lotion, and out it in my hair, promising myself I’d wash it when I got home, and sprayed it with oil I keep in my bag. I look in the mirror. Acceptable. I rub in a little bit of un rubbed in lotion,and step out my my last lesson. I tell myself all day in my head like a prayer “I like you. I like you. I like you.” and I get to the car park and my mom laughs. I just grin and say “It got a little curly. But I don’t mind.” She points to the shoelace headband and raises an eyebrow. “My hair band broke.” She pushed me into the car and chuckles.
I’m 12 but I’m only 5’7 (and a half), and I read these all the time! No one’s commented in about two years, but maybe you’ll see this. My Dad is South Korean and my mom is full on black, (she was named after Kenyata.) and I have a lot of trouble with being tall and curly. I don’t have a man, (still waiting on a first kiss too – grrrr) and I’m just going to share a short story of many that have happened.
At school one day, we had a surprise swimming lesson. Who ever heard of that- a surprise swimming lesson – and everyone was like “Yay! Yay!” and I was like “NOOOOOOOOO!” in my head I was thinking, “they’ll see it! I managed to go a year and a half! NO! They’ll see it!” I had moved to a school in England for my Dad’s job, and had gone a whole year and half and managed to hide my hair, and mask my weird American accent as best I could.
About this school. Four black girls. Me, Kristina, Vasseva, and Ola. Two black boys. Tadeo, and Camsie. We are totally a foreign species. There’s just us 6 out of about 400. A lot of double takes if you get me.
But we’re strolling off towards to pool, and my mom has just straightened my hair.
It’s a Monday. We spent all Sunday after church with me in the shower with some intense anti-dandruff shampoo and in a chair in the bathroom with an afro pick and a blowdrier ad a rack of products to protect my hair for the iron.
Well, we get to the pool, and everyone jumps in. I slide in, head above water, (I have bunned up my hair) and I’m wadding around careful, people are jumping, splashing and Mr Davis says something like 5 laps. I manage the first with with only the nape hairs wet. But everyone is having so much fun, and I just say f this, and yank out my hair, and dive under. The products keep it for about ten seconds and then it begins to curl, I close my eyes and stand up. My Bestie Enen comes over. “Kim your hair looks really good. Don’t be nervous.” She say quietly. I’ve told her my struggle. We help each other. She gets teased for Asian-ness, so we’re in the same boat kinda.
We’re swimming, swimming, and everyone wants to play polo. you spend a lot of time out of the water with polo. my hair is drying. I’m having fun. I don’t notice it. Then I notice a few stares. Double takes. I ignore them. More stares. Whistle blows, get out of the pool. We’re drying off, and walking down the hall, my afro is catching on doorways.
I LOVE Optimus Prime!!!! Love your comics!!
Well, as you can tell, those people really hurt my feelings. I’m a naturally sensitive person, and sometimes when I’m in situations like that I don’t know what to do. What would you do? This happens frequently, and I need a new method. 🙂 -Kimbles
Hello Kimbles. I just had to say something after seeing your post here. I am black too… a pure-bred African (pardon the expression).
And I have lived all my life in my home country so I haven’t experienced first hand any of these. But I think I understand quite well how you must have felt. Possibly a bit like a fish outta water.
I firmly believe though that we are all beautiful despite what our hair looks like, curls like or what colour our scalp is (mine’s rather short by the way ).
So keep your chin up and rock your ‘fro cos if anything… you deserve to be happy. ☺
Whoops, didn’t mean to send it yet, but basically, we get to the bathroom, and It looks crazy. It’s got dust particles from the door, it’s every which way it’s dry and breaking, and I look like a maniac. The girl around me are looking at me out of the corners of their eyes, flicking their hair, drying off. My eyes well up with tears and I dash into a stall before anyone can see me cry. I sit on the toilet, and yank at my hair in frustration, as tears trickle down my cheeks. My hair band breaks when I try to tie it up. I even try a freaking shoe lace to pull it back. Then I just wipe my eyes and walk out.
EVERYONE IS STARING. EVERYONE. It’s all I can do not to break down. I get to stupid people science class, with me and some foreign kids and some other kids in my year, and Mr. Fraine is explaining stuff. “Do you understand?” He asks in his really slow voice. Miriam (spanish) nods, Matthew (chinese) nods. He turns to me. And I swear on my life this is true.
“Kimberly, do you understand it, what I’m saying?” I’m a little confused and I say “Yeah. Of course I understand what you’re saying, why wouldn’t I?” He looks embarrassed and is all like “Oh I’m sorry I didn’t know if you spoke- I haven’t met- Okay.” And I get what happened. HE THOUGHT I WAS FROM A FREIGN COUNTRY AND DIDN’T SPEAK ENGLISH.
I sit through a double maths lesson, and no one talks to me, I talk to no one. I ask to go to the toilet, I cry a bit, but then I feel stupid. I I just get a little ballsy and strip, step in the shower, and wet my hair, comb it through with my fingers, steal someones lotion, and out it in my hair, promising myself I’d wash it when I got home, and sprayed it with oil I keep in my bag. I look in the mirror. Acceptable. I rub in a little bit of un rubbed in lotion,and step out my my last lesson. I tell myself all day in my head like a prayer “I like you. I like you. I like you.” and I get to the car park and my mom laughs. I just grin and say “It got a little curly. But I don’t mind.” She points to the shoelace headband and raises an eyebrow. “My hair band broke.” She pushed me into the car and chuckles.
THE END
I’m 12 but I’m only 5’7 (and a half), and I read these all the time! No one’s commented in about two years, but maybe you’ll see this. My Dad is South Korean and my mom is full on black, (she was named after Kenyata.) and I have a lot of trouble with being tall and curly. I don’t have a man, (still waiting on a first kiss too – grrrr) and I’m just going to share a short story of many that have happened.
At school one day, we had a surprise swimming lesson. Who ever heard of that- a surprise swimming lesson – and everyone was like “Yay! Yay!” and I was like “NOOOOOOOOO!” in my head I was thinking, “they’ll see it! I managed to go a year and a half! NO! They’ll see it!” I had moved to a school in England for my Dad’s job, and had gone a whole year and half and managed to hide my hair, and mask my weird American accent as best I could.
About this school. Four black girls. Me, Kristina, Vasseva, and Ola. Two black boys. Tadeo, and Camsie. We are totally a foreign species. There’s just us 6 out of about 400. A lot of double takes if you get me.
But we’re strolling off towards to pool, and my mom has just straightened my hair.
It’s a Monday. We spent all Sunday after church with me in the shower with some intense anti-dandruff shampoo and in a chair in the bathroom with an afro pick and a blowdrier ad a rack of products to protect my hair for the iron.
Well, we get to the pool, and everyone jumps in. I slide in, head above water, (I have bunned up my hair) and I’m wadding around careful, people are jumping, splashing and Mr Davis says something like 5 laps. I manage the first with with only the nape hairs wet. But everyone is having so much fun, and I just say f this, and yank out my hair, and dive under. The products keep it for about ten seconds and then it begins to curl, I close my eyes and stand up. My Bestie Enen comes over. “Kim your hair looks really good. Don’t be nervous.” She say quietly. I’ve told her my struggle. We help each other. She gets teased for Asian-ness, so we’re in the same boat kinda.
We’re swimming, swimming, and everyone wants to play polo. you spend a lot of time out of the water with polo. my hair is drying. I’m having fun. I don’t notice it. Then I notice a few stares. Double takes. I ignore them. More stares. Whistle blows, get out of the pool. We’re drying off, and walking down the hall, my afro is catching on doorways.