BECOMING MYSELF
Becoming Myself
Hair can be the symbol for political and social movements. It can represent the norms of a generation, or be used as resistance to those norms.
There were centuries where women weren’t allowed to cut their hair, followed by eras where they would chop it all off as a way to free themselves from their confines. From free-flowing hippie hair, to afros, to covering your hair, there are so many ways one can use their hair to express what they stand for.
For me, hair was an important part of my identity as early as kindergarten in Ukraine. My mom used to braid my hair in all kinds of styles, from traditional Ukrainian to experimental, untangling my knots, and bonding with me, like her mother did with her, and her grandmother did with her mother.
When I was a teenager I begged my mom to straighten my hair every week so no one would notice that I was different. I learned how to speak English with no accent and perfected the art of hiding away any trace of my culture. I was ashamed of anything that made me unique, and my wild hair was the hardest thing to hide. So for many years I used it as something to hide behind.
Today, I have come such a long way. I am learning how to embrace my heritage, my roots, my upbringing, and my individuality. To me, this piece embodied my story and allowed me to meditate for hours on vulnerability and the practice of becoming myself.
There were centuries where women weren’t allowed to cut their hair, followed by eras where they would chop it all off as a way to free themselves from their confines. From free-flowing hippie hair, to afros, to covering your hair, there are so many ways one can use their hair to express what they stand for.
For me, hair was an important part of my identity as early as kindergarten in Ukraine. My mom used to braid my hair in all kinds of styles, from traditional Ukrainian to experimental, untangling my knots, and bonding with me, like her mother did with her, and her grandmother did with her mother.
When I was a teenager I begged my mom to straighten my hair every week so no one would notice that I was different. I learned how to speak English with no accent and perfected the art of hiding away any trace of my culture. I was ashamed of anything that made me unique, and my wild hair was the hardest thing to hide. So for many years I used it as something to hide behind.
Today, I have come such a long way. I am learning how to embrace my heritage, my roots, my upbringing, and my individuality. To me, this piece embodied my story and allowed me to meditate for hours on vulnerability and the practice of becoming myself.