white mama at the black barbershop: more than hair...

Okay, I'm super embarrassed to show y'all this first picture of my son's hair.

Life has obviously been a little crazy between selling our house and working on the River House, (more on that in a future post!) so as you can see, Jameson's hair has not been our first priority.

I was almost too mortified to take him in ANYwhere, and I really shouldn't have taken him in without washing his hair at home first to help loosen his incredibly tight curls for picking out.

So the barber,

loving his first shampoo at the barber shop

whom we love and have seen before, started working through Jameson's hair with the pick, and I could see Jameson doing everything in his power to hold back the tears.  (As I internally beat myself up...)

At that point, the barber took him for his first shampoo.  (I guess he realized it was a lost cause to get that pick through the boy's head.  Smart man.)

After the shampoo came the buzzers.  (or are they called the clippers? I don't even know...)  And at the back of Jameson's head are the tightest little curls that whatever-it's-called yanks and pulls when the hair gets long.

Jameson couldn't hold it in anymore.  He bowed his head and let the tears flow.  My poor guy.

The barber ran to the back room and rushed back with a chocolate bar for both of my kids.  #barberforthewin

Tear-stained Jameson devoured the bar, and the barber and I continued chit-chatting.  Occasionally he would direct a boisterous question to Jameson, and Jameson (being a shy version of himself) would usually just answer with a soft, enunciated "yes."

Then the barber turned to me each time and imitated Jameson's little voice saying "yes" and laughed to himself.  He said he couldn't believe how "polite" Jameson spoke.

I laughed.  Jameson didn't exactly know how to get his barbershop talk on.

And then that big ol' wave of white-mama-of-a-black-son insecurity hit me, for more than just hair.

My son is going to be teased for how he speaks.  He'll likely be teased for a myriad of things just because he lives with a white family.  He'll have to suffer the consequences for his deficiencies in black culture because of me.

I left that barbershop painfully aware of my whiteness, and of my son's lack of blackness, if that makes any sense.  

I can give my son so much-- food, clothing, a loving home, a family that's crazy about him, lightsabers galore, and even a good haircut-- but there's a big piece missing in every adoptee's life.  

(Especially in a transracial adoptee.)

I can't give Jameson the connection to his birth family.  And I can't give him his racial and ethnic heritage.  

That may not sound like a big deal to some, but Jameson comes from a very strong and beautiful cultural heritage.  Marc and I are always seeking for ways to bring more of it into our life, both for our sake and for his.

Since we have serious cultural limitations, we are praying that some of our dark-skinned brothers might take him under their wing.  I am praying for more racial representation for him in the church.   I want him to have real-life role models that can talk to him about what it means to be black in America.  That may not be something that he feels he needs now, but it's something he'll know he missed out on later. 

You guys, transracial adoption is about SO much more than learning to do hair.  

It's committing to a journey that will literally lead you places you never knew you'd go.  

It's coming to grips with your own insecurities and incapabilities and mourning losses your child doesn't even yet know he's facing.  

It's being willing to give up your comfort and even your people for the benefit of your child.  

It's a path that isn't for everyone.  

It's the most challenging (and simultaneously the most rewarding) thing I've ever done.  And I'm only 4 years in. 

May God give this little white mama the grace to know how to do it well.

white mama at the black barbershop: a busted chin and a lollipop...

Exhale.

It's been one of those days.

In the midst of alot of stress... ministry situations, fund raising (our main supporting church just had to cut their yearly giving to RUF from $10,000 to $0...that's not stressful...), confusion over schooling for our children next year, etc., I just needed one more thing on my plate.

So how about a fluke fall onto the floor which landed a gash and a busted chin?

It was one of those motherhood rite-of-passage moments.  Where I, with wet hair and half dressed, am simultaneously grabbing my purse and rushing out the door to the doctor, holding a tissue against Jameson's chin to stop the bleeding.

And thankfully, it only needed a little cleaning and some glue to put the skin back together.  (No stitches this time, thank you, Jesus.)

This white mama doesn't do well with blood, so I'm still trying to calm down.

So we got the chin all fixed up, just in time to head to a hair cut.

New barbershop.  New barber.

A glued up chin.

A mini Simon Says game in his hands.

He was so tired from all the morning's "excitement"

and I saw his eyes getting heavier and heavier...

 

...until they couldn't stay open any longer.

Zzzzzzzzzzz.

HOWEVER cute and peaceful that may be, Jameson's now at the age that if he naps EVEN FOR JUST A FEW MINUTES, he'll be up until 10pm at night.

(And though I love my kids, I don't want to be with them at 10pm.)

So Trell, the barber, had just the trick to entice him to wake back up:  a lollipop.

That did the trick.  For whatever reason, Jameson hasn't been as fussy with a male barber like he was with our female one.  (I guess it's a pride thing...)  He doesn't ask me to sit in the chair with him, either.

We're definitely moving up.

But he still doesn't want to talk, either.  Trell tried to ask him questions, and this white mama SO appreciated it.  My son needs all the opportunities he can get to interact with black men in his life.

"Come on, Jameson," I encouraged him.  "You've gotta talk. That's what you do in a barber shop."

"That's right!" Trell said.  "And then eventually one day when you're old enough for your mama to start dropping you off, then you and me can REALLY talk."   Hahahahahaha  

We made it to the end of the cut, and isn't my baby so handsome??  He is going to be a heart breaker, y'all.

As much as I like how trim and styled this hairstyle looks,

(and my goodness, it's SO much easier to style)

I've gotta admit, I'm missing his curls on top.

But after the busted chin incident,

it was so, so good just to see him SMILE again.

white mama at the black barber: the fade...

Nope, we can't sit still.

So yes, that's me wearing a cape holding Jameson in place for his hair cut.

I'm still learning so much about my son's hair.  Even within black hair, his curl type is very hard to work with and least desired.  So I'm still feeling clueless these days, but at least I'm feeling a little more justified in it.

I suppose one might wonder why not cut off Jameson's hair and just go super-short?  I don't know.  I guess I'm kinda partial to longer hair styles on black boys, and for the time being, I'm determined to try figuring out how I can make such a tight curl pattern look a little more defined and moisturized.  Maybe one day I'll give up, but for now, I still want to try for curls and twists.

(There's probably also something to say about having a daughter with alopecia here, too... if I can't do her hair, at least I can still do his...)

This time at the barber, we went with a slightly different style, the fade.  (where it's more full on top and gradually tapered on the back and sides)  I think this will work better for Jameson than a mini 'fro cut since it's his back and sides that curl up so tightly anyways, which makes it difficult to pick through and sends him grabbing the pick out of my hand.

new 'do'

Caroline decided that she, too, needed a haircut from Mrs. Brittany.  I loved her sense of humor about her alopecia in the moment.  (Thank you, God, that we can laugh at it today!)

And who'd have guessed there'd be the PERFECT store for all of my children's unique haircare issues in my own small town??  Well, I found it, and I was one happy gal!

Where can I simultaneously purchase a wig brush AND curl moisturizer??  THIS place! 

This shall be my new hair (and lack of hair) Mecca indeed.

the humor of hair...

Five years ago, I'd have never guessed how much the subject of HAIR would rule my life!  I've gotten to the point where it's humorous, really.  

I mean, who'd have thought my daughter would lose all her hair at age 2 and be BALD?  Whew- what a unique and challenging feat!

Then!  God graciously gives me my chocolate-skinned baby boy, and suddenly I'm now learning how to do BLACK HAIR.  (Also, no small task.) 

And as if all that wasn't enough when it comes to hair, then one more hair comes into my life.... 

frizzed out American Girl doll hair!  Aaauuugghhh!!!!

Lord, no!  I can't take it!  (ha ha)

Yep, it didn't take long for my daughter (who has no hair and thus, little ability and experience doing hair) to turn her new American Girl doll's hair into ONE. MEGA. FRIZZ BALL.  

Leaving ME googling yet another genre of hair and hair "disorders."  (ha!)

So after some research and a couple of hours with a spray bottle and a wig brush, I got it back to this.  I'd say I did alright, eh?  (Note to future moms of AG dolls... maybe consider ones withOUT curly hair??  Of course, guess what Caroline wants her next wig to be... blonde and curly...)

HAIR, people.  

This, my friends, was an attempt I made after reading about ways to create twists in hair without heat.  This time, using rolled-up magazine pages and bobby pins.   It's amazing what you can learn on the internet.

Sometimes I think I must be crazy.  This life I have with hair sure is!

But whether you've got hair, no hair, black hair, wig hair, 

or wild, synthetic frizzed-out hair, 

I love you all!

the white parents at the black salon...

I'll be honest.  As vanilla parents to a chocolate baby, we are naturally CLUELESS when it comes to black hair.  It's been an entirely new, fascinating subject to learn, and I've really enjoyed opening myself up to another culture through it.  There are many different products and lines of thought on caring for ethnic hair, but there was one thing ALL of our african american brothers and sisters were in agreement on:

You don't cut his hair until he's 1.

Being as clueless as we were, we had no idea this tradition existed.  As we asked around, it seems like there were lots of varying reasons and some superstitions for this rule, but basically, we were told it would change the texture of the hair from soft to brittle.

Say no more.

I'm not about to break that rule, no matter how high Jameson's hair continues to climb.  (ha!)  Because what's more important to me than my son's appearance is honoring and incorporating his culture into our own, and this was an easy, no brainer for us.  No way were his soft little curls going to be clipped.

Until his birthday last week!

So this was the moment!  Granted, I'd had an entire YEAR to figure out where we should take him when this day came, but did I have ANY idea where we were going the day of???   Nope.   I'd been asking various folks where they'd recommend, and though there were plenty of capable folks whose names we were given, we both felt pretty strongly about going to a black salon/barbershop.

We've opted for black salons/barbershops not just because we think they'd do a better job on his hair, but because as a transracial family, it's important that Jameson is not always the one in the minority.  We want him to have LOTS of opportunities to be in and around black culture, to gain another dimension of who he is.  Being black certainly won't be his entire identity, but it will be a large one.  And an important one.  (Just like Caroline's alopecia doesn't define the entirety of who she is, it certainly plays a large role in her identity process.)  It's also just as valuable for Marc and I to be around and in black culture, too.  Whether they realize it or not, they are just as much "my" people now.  :)

So the next morning, I had narrowed things down to two places in town, but this was just SO outside of my expertise!   How did I know where to go, afterall?

I was a little nervous walking in the salon, as anyone would be when you enter into another cultural experience completely foreign to your own.  I'll never forget the echoing sound of my boots as I stepped across the hardwood floors of the foyer and into the spacious open room of the salon.

Suddenly, I saw a salon filled with wonderful, smiling folks, all with skin as dark and velvety rich as Jameson's.  Marc and I instantly felt at ease.  At home.

This was exactly what we had been hoping for.

"Hello!" they warmly greeted us.  "What can we do for you?"

I'm sure we were quite the sight to their eyes!  Well, I'm white, I wanted to start off apologizing.... (he he!) but instead I chose my words a little more carefully.  :)

"This is our son, Jameson,..."

"Hi Jameson!  Well, hello, Jameson!" the place erupted before I could finish my sentence.  It was like they knew my son already, in a way that I cannot.  They took him in INSTANTLY.  We LOVED it.

Beautiful beyond words.

"...and he is one year old today, so we'd like him to get him his first haircut," I finished.  And then, the nervous, white mama in me started speaking in rapid fire, "But I'm not ready to chop it all off!, and I still want him to have his soft curls!," I nervously announced to the entire place.

As if they ALL needed to hear your insecurities over his hair, Amy.

They, however, were all very understanding and excited to be there for Jameson's big moment.

"Y'all from here?" one of the stylists asked us.  I'm sure they didn't quite know WHAT to think of us!  Not sure how many black-and-white families have walked through those doors before.


This is Andrea, Jameson's first stylist.  She's a mom to three children, the oldest being in his twenties.


And this picture is a great reminder of why we needed to be there in the first place.  :)

(I'll be honest, I was a little embarrassed taking him with his hair so out of control like that.  I'm sure I was confirming every stereotype in their mind...)


As Andrea started working her magic, this is what ensued.  The poor boy LOST it.  (yes, that's my hand trying to feed him some puffs, thinking it might help keep his mind off of things.  Umm, it didn't.)

Big ol' crocodile tears.

The stylist next to us must have noticed our distress as he gestured to Jameson and said, "Don't y'all worry.  ALL the little ones do this."

Well, okay, that made me feel a little better.  At least this wasn't happening because my son's head had thusfar been left to the hands of clueless, white parents.  ;)


His crying continued on and on, becoming hysterical.  At that point, Andrea stopped, picked him up, and tried to calm him down.  It wasn't helping.

She handed him to me, and I tried calming him.   Didn't work.
He stretched his arms out toward Marc.

And the most beautiful thing happened next.

As soon as he was placed in his Daddy's arms, Jameson's cries fell completely silent.  He laid his head down on Marc's shoulder where he knew everything would be alright.

He received the comfort that only his Daddy's embrace could give him.

It was a moment Marc and I will never forget, with everyone in the salon as our witnesses.  "Well," one person commented approvingly, "he just needed his Daddy."

Yes, his Daddy.  We could've cried.  How are we so richly blessed to be parents to Jameson?


Andrea handed him a brush and continued cutting.  It was the perfect distraction.


He tried brushing his own hair with it at one point. :)


And this is what I love.  As soon as Andrea finished cutting his hair, she set Jameson back into the chair and pulled out HER phone to take pictures.

Of my son.

She got my number and texted me one of her snapshots.  The owner of the salon came up to me and asked for my address so that they could mail us a "first haircut" certificate.  So, so sweet.


Speaking of so, so sweet.... he looks so grown up!!!  (I love Andrea's face in the mirror here-- can't you see the warmth?  And look at his sweet expression back to her.)


My little guy, I may not look like I should be your mama,
but I'm so happy I AM!
You are STUCK like glue to me.
Forever.   :)

pampering...

Okay, now for some lighter fare...

(I suppose I should start off with an apology to you, dear little Jameson:  We, the girls in this family, would like to go ahead and tell you we're sorry.  We realize that while this post might be cute and funny to US, we know that in about ten years time, you will probably look back upon these pictures with a healthy dose of embarrassment.  That's okay.  Welcome to the family.  But you must understand-- we gals can't help but having a little fun fussing over you...)


I'm sure you all can guess which gal did this to the "cool guy"...


Umm, yep!  You guessed right.  :)


And the other gal in the family... (ahem) me... did this...


These small finger coils, as they're called, are not just for looks, but they're also a protective style that promote hair growth. (and as you can see, we need all the hair growth promotion we can get these days!  he he)


Pretty cute, huh?  (here's the great blog, Chocolate Hair Vanilla Care, where I'm getting all my help with his hair stuff)


Sweet boy, I know in a few years' time, you won't care a THING about being pampered and "done up."

But we're sure having fun with you now.  :)

let's talk hair...

Hair?  Really?

For the last three years, this blog has been about grieving over the loss of hair,
and in this family, we do everything we can to downplay hair,
so now it's time to talk about it?


Is this a joke?

Coming from the white girl who has a head full of stick-straight hair
and wouldn't know what to do with curly hair to save her life.
Plus she has a daughter with no hair at all!

What does a gal like me know about doing my black son's hair??

Not a THING, really.

Seriously!

Which is why I've been reading up pretty extensively on the subject, because at least to me, it feels somewhat like learning a foreign language.  I'm terrified I'm gonna mess it up!  I mean, the last thing the poor kid needs is for his hair to look like his white mama doesn't have a clue, right?  :)

So I'm learning.

This child is doomed, if I do say so myself.  I don't have girl's hair to play with or style.  So sorry, bud.  You're it.  Your hair is gonna get played with and fussed over.  It's just the way it's gonna be for you.  And it's kinda fun for me.

So we're starting young.


I've read that these little finger coils are cute on little boys, and they are supposed to be protective to the hair as well.  I know, I know.  He barely has any hair to begin with.  But I figured it wouldn't hurt him to start learning to sit and get used to the feeling of having his hair done.


And I think it's a cute change!  Especially since his hair is getting so patchy in the back and sides from where he naps, this style helps it all look a little more tight to his head, so the balding spots aren't quite as noticeable when he's wearing it this way.  (though right now, it only stays this way for about a day or so)

Apparently, in general, the more curly hair is, the less often you should wash it.
Straight hair like mine makes too much oil and needs daily washing.
(I couldn't imagine skipping a day without shampooing-- I'd be a grease ball!)

But curly hair like his doesn't produce oil easily,
so the challenge is keeping it moisturized and conditioned.
So we're washing his hair about once a week.
And only using conditioner.  (called "co-washing"- weird, huh?)

I've learned a TON about it from this blog.

I'm still learning what types of products work best on his hair, and just when I get it "figured" out, his hair will change on me, I'm sure.  The problem I'm having now is-- his hair looks good after I spray a mixture of water, detangler/leave-in conditioner, & oil in it, but then, only a few hours later, it appears dry and frizzy all over again.

Obviously, any advice you all have is more than welcome.


The second time I tried the finger coils (last week), it must have been super relaxing because in the middle of it, he fell fast asleep.


I don't blame him... wish i could do this when I get my hair done!

You can see here how the twists are more pronounced while the hair is wet...


... but they shrink down closer to his head once his hair dries.

Isn't he the sweetest little thing?


Cute little guy, no matter what his hair looks like!

Certainly HE doesn't care!

If there's one thing we say in this family, it's that you don't need hair to be beautiful.


So leave me alone, woman!  :)