A bicycle made for two

On Wednesday I received one “respect” and two “dreadlocks” salutations from passersbys but the best one was two guys on a bike one giving a croggy (local Nottingham dialect also known as a lift, a tow, a tu dready or a ride) to the other. They stopped and asked “how long have you been growing them?” I smile a sweet smile and say as I always do “a long time” – well it’s a bit personal divulging how long. Then one of them says, “mine will be as long as yours soon.” His hair was about a centimetre (if that) long. I laugh along with him like it’s the funniest thing I’d ever heard. Why? Because he was so cute. Shame on me!

Its not the size that matters...!!!

At shop...yes again... no not fish...carrot cake this time...anyway moving on...lady expresses her wonderment at the length of my dreads. Then asks “what do you do to it” I reply just wash and go oh and a little bit of hair oil now and then.” She gets excited... “What kind of hair oil?” I think she thinks it’s going to be a magical solution for making her hair grow. I reply “Anything I can get my hands on.” She looks disappointed that I haven’t pinpointed the magical formula for hair growth.

fishy business

Out shopping... buying a piece of fish for my tea...a nice piece of salmon in fact which I’m going to have with fried dumplings... I love fish... but I digress this is not fish encounters!!! Anyhow an elderly woman in the supermarket says... “Hope you don’t mind me asking but how long have you been growing your hair?” I said “well I started to grow them at 15 and I’m now ** yrs old.” She looks at me and then shouts in a very strong Jamaican accent “JESUS CHRIST you only look 19.”

I smile flattered but when she tries to hold on to me because she wants me to wait for her daughter `to finish her shopping i beat a hasty retreat.

Skool Dayz

Working with 7 & 8 year olds today... spend all day having my hair tugged, stroked and generally child handled... my fault... forgot to wear my hat... one girl looked at me all serious and disapproving and then said... ‘Did you really do your hair like that on purpose?’ I reply apologetically with a humble ‘yes’ She shakes her head in disgust and walks away. Children don’t you just love them!

Today’s update...walked into town (takes an hour) half way there a man approaches (sorry no raincoat) says how beautiful my hair is (yes head was swelling) then asks for my number...I decline (probably a nutter) says if he meets me again he will ask me out. Here’s hoping I see him before he sees me.

Also today... in town in a shop...quiet... only ambient music interrupting the silence...until a young child...I’d y about 3 or 4 years old shouts out ‘look mummy look at that hair’... everyone turns to look at me... so much for going by unnoticed!!!

Finally walking back from town...red shoes purchased feeling happy... I hear a man talking behind me ‘look at her he says’ (head getting ready to swell again). Until he says ‘they used to be our slaves until some idiot set them free.’ I was too shocked to turn around. They walk past, three of them... they’re only young...students perhaps...the future... I feel sad...very sad.

Poetic hair biography

This is my poetic hair biography. I will be performing it at the Battersea Arts Centre on Friday 5th and Saturday 6th March.

Dread Dreadlocks

I had to cry for mine
Daddy laid it on the line
Cut those funky dreads
Else find yourself another bed
from my heart I was led

Kicked onto the streets
Sixteen’s supposed to be sweet
Trodding the beat
On my own two feet
Nothing to eat
That was the start
Of me following my heart

Like Samson the strength
increases with the length
of time allowed to grow
Untouched
each new stalk remains
as a vow to my ancestors
I have not forgot,
I will not forget,
until we meet
I’ll walk the streets
if needs be
And shelter under the shade
of my own special tree

I had to cry for mine
Daddy laid it on the line
Called me a filthy headed swine
Said: “you ain’t one of MINE”

Struck from the will cast aside
Churches sang with me abide
Washed me with purified water
Thinking that ought to
Shake the devil out
Cause I must be insane
Not to want to press my tight curls
Into a lifeless mane

Used to let them fly wild,
Running through the rainy streets
Used to let them swing and drip,
now they tickle my hips
When I dance they sway
do back flips,

Wearing them’s a minor
Get them designer
Times change but the 80 binds that
Lay on my head
Do not forget the hurt,
the lies spread
About me and my kind
the dreadlocks dreads

My dreads if they could speak
Would say
No war. Exploitation we deplore
Peace love and unity
Needs to be a certainty
That’s the language of the trees leaves
But it got lost on the breeze
Don’t believe the hype
of the stereotype
I smoke only from the peace pipe
Prophesied by Garvey, he said,

Gather yourselves
into a cultural army
Protect yourselves
with pride and confidence,
Shield yourselves
in your own definitions
Fight for Self worth,
and self-recognition
Use only bullets of truth
for your ammunition
Let them all know
it isn’t just a whim
Your desire not to trim

One day they’ll trail to my feet
And I’ll carry them over my shoulder
Like a long lost friend
To the very end
Waving a flag of red gold and green
Upholding the vow
Of the Nazarene

They’re all mine
as nature intended
These velvety black vines
represent me, uniquely
Forging their way through
the grime and slime
and the changing times
of daily living

One day I’ll forget the time
I had to cry for mine

Up close and personal!

I get asked lots of questions about my hair on a daily basis. Mostly the questions are simple how long has it been growing? Or do i ever cut it? Or do i wash it kind of questions, which I can cope with quite well. However on one particular day a random man ... and it is always random people approaching me... came up to me and stood within a centimetre of invading my personal space and asked,
"When you make love does your hair get all tangled up in the proceedings?"
I know! I thought that myself. How can a total random ask such a personal question. Needless to say I didn't entertain him and walked off with a disgusted look on my face, which I do quite well. The answer just in case you were wondering is...
mind your own bees wax!!!