She Looks Like Me: Reflections on Diversity (A Rewrite)

Tay LaRoi

meThe picture to the left is me (give or take a Snapchat filter). My father is a fair-skinned black man and my mother is a white woman, which is why I look the way I do. Due to my mixed heritage, I have a very complicated relationship with my unbelievably curly hair. When it grows, it doesn’t get long, it gets big.  And by big I mean huge. Like, routinely-loose-bobby-pins-in-it-I-am-not-kidding-that-actually-happens huge, which is why I wear it short.  It’s also why I get extremely excited when I meet other girls, primarily mixed and black girls, with hair like mine. I feel like it gives us an instant connection to build on and, if they wear their hair long, I can’t help but admire their patience. I’ve struck up long engaging conversation with total strangers just with complements about their hair, questions about products, and thoughts on styles.

I form a similar…

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