I got up early this morning so I could get ready. My Afro is huge. It’s so thick that the pick sticks in there with no problem. This look is far out.
When I got to school, I saw Melanie standing by the stairs. I sneaked up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and looked at me, then looked again, and laughed. This is how our conversation went:
“What the hell is this?”
“It’s my new look, why?”
“You look like an Angela Davis wanna be. What’s the trip?”
That’s when I started to get mad and was getting ready to walk away, then she said,
“Wait, I’m sorry. I just don’t get it. Why do you need to be someone you’re not?”
“How do you know who I’m supposed to be?”
That’s when I walked away.
The black kids accepted me right away. I’m part of the African struggle now, and I have black power even though I’m not sure what that means.
Talk to ya later!