“I cut my hair.
Usually it’s completely bald but it’s grown out a little bit and I had this moment of crisis. My mom is Mexican and my dad is black and I never really had to worry about my hair. I always felt very disconnected from black women because I didn’t have to deal with cornrows, I didn’t have to deal with braids.
I’m actually from the town Sandra Bland was killed and I lived literally from the cross street where she was pulled over so it was like a big identity crisis summer and I was like I need to get more in touch with it. So I decided I was going to braid my hair [in box braids]. I woke up and I couldn’t move my head. My braids were so heavy I couldn’t move my head and I had this moment of panic where I was like oh shit, I can’t identify with this group that I’m supposed to identify with. “Help, I can’t be classically black beautiful and I can’t be classically Mexican beautiful because they don’t recognize me.” So I decided, well fuck it. I don’t want to worry about it, I am beautiful and I am going to go to the barber and tell them to shave my head because I don’t want to have to choose. I am both at the same time and I think it’s gorgeous and I don’t think anyone should be forced to be any type of beautiful. Then when I was kind of having a sad moment in my life, this woman said, “the most brave thing you could ever do is walk around with a bald head as a woman.” And now I see black women with bald heads on the street and I think, I found my people. So that’s kind of what it means to be black and beautiful for me.”