Dealing with the ignorant


Firstly, it’s just hair,  something that naturally grows out of my head,  like every othee human being,  unless you have some sort of condition, hair grows.

I need not explain that because of my parents parents being from Ireland and Jamaica,  my hair is curly, not afro, not bushy, curly.

imageRecently a work colleague asked what the ‘craziest’ thing was that ‘got stuck’ in my hair. I resisted he urge to punch him, face palm and scream in frustration because I am an adult and no one gets anywhere with anger.

I like to think I’m a respectable individual who refrains from rolling around in the grass too often, putting things like yogurt, chocolate,  peanut butter and all things good and wet, anywhere but my mouth and generally not dragging myself through a bush, lest my person becomes stickied, hurt, or otherwise attacked by wildlife.

So when faced with the question, how did I answer? Calmly I’ll have you know. I explained that I don’t put things in my hair that shouldn’t be there. A comb to separate, a brush to detangle, and most obviously product, I then asked: what do you guys put in your hair?

I know He was hoping I’d say a bike, or more realistically, a brick,  a carton of juice perhaps. As he sat there crestfallen, others jumped in asking if I’d not put pencils, or a shoe in my hair? Maybe that’s what they get up to in their spare time,  but, for safety reasons alone, I’d rather not.

In hindsight I realise I probably should have punched him and explained that not only does he come across as dumb,  ignorant and immature, the word racist resounds in my head. 

I can only hope he asks the wrong person one day, and maybe then he’ll understand.