I remember countless mornings after combing, conditioning, and shampooing my hair where I looked into the mirror and wanted to burst into tears. Unlike the straight hair of my friends that I wanted so badly, I was stuck with a head of hair that constantly defied my plans. 

Throughout my life, my mop of hair has plagued mornings as my mother and I would desperately try to find a way to look presentable. As the clock ticked closer and closer to 7:30 AM, we would end up using the inevitable bun tactic.

It wasn’t until I was 15 that I learned to love my hair and its spontaneity. My hair traces a thread through my global adventures, reminding me of my heritage -- with English relatives on one side and Nigerian on the other. Untamable hair has taught me how to be spontaneous. Over time, I’ve learned to both embrace the unknown and be excited for what comes next. 

I love control, and the slightest hint of change sets off alarm bells. My parents’ eagerness to explore places throughout the world has led me to see myself in a broader perspective without the narrow pressures of fitting in as a black girl in a white, American, suburban world.

I stepped into Collège Ségurane for the first time in September of 2016. At first, I fervently hoped to return to the United States and skip this spontaneous year in France that my mother and aunt had cooked up a few months earlier. I could hear the hard ‘r’s and accent graves of a language that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend rush past my ears as I squeezed between crowded bodies in the halls. I was the smallest of the students around me; merely 11 years old while the oldest kids were towering over me. My head pounded with tension as I traipsed towards the classroom where I learned the language that would fuel a lifelong passion.

But I grew to love the first taste of a warm, buttery crêpe from the Vieux Nice Pâtisseries, and the feeling of the word “arbre” rolling across my tongue. The day that I had a full conversation with my French classmates was also the day that I understood the importance of instinctive decisions. 

Now I’ve carried my parents’ openness to new experiences into all aspects of my life. It’s a mindset that has enabled me to graduate the youngest in my class while exploring advanced classes, starting a pivotal club at school, and maintaining diverse leadership roles. 

In June 2020, I marched in a protest for the first time. I was one of more than eight hundred people, all holding powerful signs that read “No Justice, No Peace” and “My Skin Color Is Not A Crime.” I hadn’t realized the true depth of what it meant to be black in the United States until that summer. Despite taking action every way I knew, I felt I could do more. Then I started the Multicultural Club at my school. Other students who had experienced the same pressures that I had told me about their own experiences. Together we created an environment that supported the students in our community while using our resources to provide the equipment necessary for other communities to succeed. We filled over four suitcases with school supplies for students in Benin, Nigeria. I learned the importance of listening to my inner voice and refusing to allow others to dictate my choices so that I can find my place in the world.  

My hair has always insisted on its wildness, despite numerous attempts to tame it. My voice has likewise found the strength to stand out. Listening to my instincts has made me aware that true freedom uses inner strength to contribute to my community. I walk taller now, and my hair has shown me how to bring my fullness into this world.