Me, My Hair, and I Shawneda (top 10 non fiction books of all time TXT) 📖

We wiggled our pinkies toward each other before her face disappeared.

“You’re not getting a relaxer JeShaun LaTanya Wright not now, not next week, not ever.” Aunt Tanya uncrossed her arms to place her right hand on her slender hip.

I took in a deep breath. Sometimes I wish my mother and sister weren’t so close. Every time I did something she didn’t like, Aunt Tanya reminded me my mother loved her so much she named me after her. Stupid childhood sister pinky promises. “I’m pretty sure when I’m eighteen you won’t be able to tell me how to wear my hair. Technically, if I go get it done, you can’t do anything to reverse the process.”

“Ha… you gonna use me teaching you about hair against… You know what, JeShaun, not today. We’ll pick your fits out for the shoot when your Uncle gets home since you’re in one of your moods.” Aunt Tanya slid her phone into her pocket. “We will discuss this when he gets home. I’m going for a run to clear my head. Before I… I’ll be back.”

My heart stopped for a moment when Aunt Tanya stopped in my door. She turned around. I saw tears about to spill from her eyes, “You have no idea how much I love you. Maybe one day, you’ll understand.”

“Aunt Tanya, I know you love me.” I scrambled to my feet. “Please don’t make this about you. This is about me, my hair, and I.”

Aunt Tanya turned her body back toward me and laughed. “About me… all I’ve ever done since your mother died is adapted, twist, and adjust my life to care for you and your sister, little girl.”

“Wanting a relaxer isn’t a crime. It’s just hair.” I sighed. “Can we talk about this after you go run? I can tell you’re getting upset your neck is turning red.”

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. She turned back around to leave my room. “You have no idea how much everything I’ve built is for you. I can’t wait til you turn eighteen. Til you see how wrong you are about all of this.”

Uncle Corey’s footsteps were level and calm. He hadn’t talked to Aunt Tanya yet, “Uncle Corey!”

He poked his head into my doorway “Wassup Buttercup?”

“Gotta second?” I motioned for him to come in.

He stood inside the doorway as I crossed my legs on the pillows. “You remember when I told you I needed to talk to you about something important before the product photo shoot?”

“Yeah.” He sat in the chair in front of my computer desk.

I cleared my throat. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you before I told Aunt Tanya. She’s really mad.”

“Tell me what?” Uncle Corey rested his elbows on top of his knees.

I pushed my index finger into the plush carpet. “I’m going to make an appointment with Peaches to have my hair straightened.”

“Ha!” Uncle Corey sat up in the chair. “You had me going for a second. Tell me what happened.”

My hand hovered over the carpet.

“You’re not kidding?”

I shook my head.

“Peaches… and a relaxer?” Uncle Corey dropped his head back. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples. “How long has Tanya been gone?”

I shrugged. “Not sure. Said she needed to go for a run to clear her head.”

“Clear her head. Cry.” Uncle Corey lifted his head. “You know you those things are permanent, right?”

I nod. “Relaxers are but keratin treatments can give you the best of both worlds.”

Uncle Corey chuckled.

“All I want to do is finish this year without worrying about my hair frizzing up or going back if I have it silkened during the season. You have no idea how much work it takes to be an athletic teen with natural hair. I just want a slick ponytail and my Saturday mornings back.” I tried not to huff before crossing my arms. “This is my life. Yet I have control over nothing. She said I’m selfish for wanting to have a say in what happens to my hair.”

Uncle Corey his closed eyes. “You two are going to have to work this out. How you wear your hair is your decision, JeShaun.”

“That’s what I said.”

Uncle Corey opened his eyes. “But keeping you healthy and teaching you how to make good decisions is our responsibility. Let’s agree you won’t do anything to your hair until we can all sit down and talk.”

My stomach knotted. My toes tightened as I snatched my phone off my bed. Every unspoken frustration about being expected to be in the product photoshoot poured through my fingertips onto my phone. By the time I pressed post on Instagram, I felt sweat on top of my upper lip. I grabbed my phone. I stuffed it into my pocket before grabbing my bag to walk to Breyonna’s house.

I text Uncle Corey to let him know I’d gone for a walk over to Breyonna’s house to hang out until dinner. My emotions crashed around against each other as I stepped out of the back door to the shop. Aunt Tanya’s hair salon did so well right before Mom passed away she’d just purchased a mixed use house in the part of town everyone was building up close to downtown.

Something about a major investment and retirement money when she sold or some other boring old people talk about appreciating their buildings or something. No matter what she did back then, at some point she had to stop treating me like a moving hair mannequin. Next year I go to college. What will coaches think when they search me online?

Programs aren’t interested in divas or troublemakers. Who wants to recruit someone they think will need some fancy expensive ethnic hairstyles to be happy? No one. Most of the big ten schools were in podunk rural areas that didn’t even have buses. My grades are good, but what if I don’t go to school somewhere that has a natural stylist nearby?

Aunt Tanya doesn’t think about anyone but herself. Won’t teach me