I Support Elizabeth Smart

The following article of mine was reprinted without my permission and I don't endorse or support the blogger's theories on Elizabeth Smart:

Who is more disturbed: Gerry McCann or Ed Smart?
CAPTIVE AMERICA: SMART, ROWLANDSON AND THE COLONIAL SENTIMENT
Shannon Luders-Manuel

I'm posting my statement here because there is no way to contact the blogger or to post comments on her site. Elizabeth, I am so very sorry for what happened to you and that there are those who claim your abduction was all a propagandist scam. My article in no way supports that theory.

The original can be viewed on Vanderbilt's website, here:

AmeriQuests, Vol 7, No 1 (2010)

-- Shannon Luders-Manuel

Big Hair Makes a Comeback on What Not to Wear

Tonight I sat down on the couch in my sweats and watched one of my favorite shows: What Not to Wear. They've had black women on the show before, but Amanda Rodriguez is one of the only clients I've seen with natural hair. I was nervous for her when it got time for her hair makeover. I was sure the stylist was going to cut off major length and iron her beautiful curls straight, especially since he usually irons even relatively straight hair. I relaxed a little when I saw Ted Gibson pop up on the screen -- the black stylist who has replaced the much loved Nick Arrojo. Normally I prefer Arrojo, but Gibson being black made me hopeful that he would let her keep her god-given curls.

Not only did Gibson honor my wish, but he actually made her hair bigger. Instead of killing her curls, he used a diffuser, advised her not to shampoo her hair every day, and to use leave-in conditioner. Teri LaFlesh, author of Curly Like Me, says it's best not to use a hair dryer at all (which I don't follow or I seem to have water dripping down my back) and to leave in actual conditioner and not leave-in conditioner (which I do follow and it's made a world of difference). But regardless of slight variations of upkeep and styling, his advice to Rodriguez, which was also advice to the millions of viewers, was a breath of forward thinking fresh air in a behind the times hair world, much like Urban Outfitters high rise jeans that actually look cute and get rid of the 21st century faux pas of female butt crack. But that's another story for another time.

While I haven't seen every episode of What Not to Wear, I have seen only one other where the stylist made a black woman's hair bigger than it already was. Granted, most of the few black clients who come on the show already have chemically straightened hair, so there is no curl left to work with. Even though I had seen that one previous episode, the one I saw tonight stood out to me more. Maybe because Rodriguez is my age, or has my body, or has my exact hair texture. Maybe it's because, like me, she's a compulsive smiler even when her pet dies. Whatever the reason, the fact that Ted Gibson celebrated her curls, is, for me, a step forward in mainstream culture accepting us curly-haired women just as we are.

After finishing the show, I broke the cardinal rule and went out to Walgreen's in everything What Not to Wear said not to wear. But hey, it was 1:00 a.m.

--Shannon Luders-Manuel

The anti-anti-processed hair movement

Rachel Jessica Daniel

In grad school, my friend Rachel sported a magnificent afro. As each year went by the gravity defying circle atop her head grew at an excitingly alarming rate. She prided herself on her natural nappiness with fervor akin to the black is beautiful movement of the 70s. Because of this I was very surprised when Rachel decided to give up her natural fro and sport a long, sleek weave instead. On her facebook page, she stated that black women should not be defined by their hair. Since reading this statement I have come to ponder over her words and develop my own opinion as to the validity and strength behind her statement. My question to myself, and now to you the readers is: Is defining ourselves by natural hair just as restricting as our predecessors who defined theirs by their ability to make their hair behave?

I myself admit that I am guilty of judging black women who keep their hair in what I term to be the self-oppression mirrored to us by white society. I wonder how these women can perpetuate the notion that our hair must be sleek and shiny in order to fit into Caucasian society. I want these women to caste off the shackles of hair slavery and create new lives for themselves dictated by their own definition of what is beautiful. So when I read Rachel's words, I automatically felt that her new position had let me down. How could someone so dedicated to the cause just give up like that? How could she turn her back on us and call us women who define ourselves by our hair?

But do we, as biracial women, perhaps use our belief in the beauty of natural hair in a way that undermines our more fully black sisters with kinkier manes? Just as people come in all colors, so does hair come in all textures, and those of us who have one parent with straighter, sleeker hair are of course bound to have looser, spirally curls. And many of us biracial women--myself among them--are on the front lines of supporting mixed race marriages which, while natural, is a choice to step outside of the more socially acceptable mores of one's race.

And going one step further, perhaps claiming that only natural hair is beautiful is just as limiting and dangerous to black expression as saying that only weaves or chemical treatments are. After all, my decision to go natural coincided with a decision to adorn myself with a nose ring, painted fingernails, and makeup -- all anti-natural modes of self-representation. Sure, all those things are supposed to enhance natural beauty, but they in and of themselves are not natural. So why is altering one's hair any less socially acceptable?

Hearing my friend Rachel's words hasn't changed the way I want to do my hair, but it has challenged my quick judgments against other women for their own hair choices. Perhaps the freedom to go natural and the freedom to alter comes from the same place: namely, the freedom to make one's own choices. I have to admit that when I do get my wonderful curls ironed straight for a haircut, I'm blown away by how sleek and shiny my own hair looks and I revel in being able to do the things other girls do, like tuck my hair behind my ears or run my fingers through it without it frizzing up. I love my curls too much to straighten them permanently or add a weave, but now I won't beat myself up at getting a blow out every now and then. After all, those with naturally straight hair don't question their race loyalty when they take out the curling iron. Yes, Rachel, our hair does not define us. Our power comes from the knowledge that we can make our own hair choices, and create our own unique looks and be whoever we want to be.

--Shannon Luders-Manuel

Ready...

Set...

Go!

From Pullman Porter Grandpa to Conductor Me

Thanks to Teri LaFlesh, author of Curly Like Me, my blog has gotten new followers and a tighter focus, namely, that wonderful thing called biracial hair and the beautiful women who sport it. Soon I will interview Teri, who was kind enough to feature my hair on her blog with a link to mine. Right now, however, I want to simply offer up a bit of firsthand advice based on her haircare system.

Because of Teri, I now braid my hair every night to keep the curls healthy and contained. No more dry combing and ruining my ends with tugs and pulls. On days when I don't go out, I often like to leave the braids in. And, lets face it, sometimes even when I do go out I like to leave them in, instead of running palmfuls of water and rubbing conditioner through my huge mane. This is especially true when my day only consists of picking up a prescription at the drug store or buying a carton of milk.

Since I most often make six braids -- three on each side of my head -- I can't just walk out of the house with my hair as is. No one wants to look like Medusa while they're standing in line at the store. A couple months ago I tried on a "conductor hat", almost as a joke, but realized right away how fabulous it looked on me. That $14 purchase is now one of the smartest I've made. I simply pull the hat over my head and viola!, Not only do I look put together, I look fabulously stylish. An excellent replacement for my ghetto-looking bandannas. (Hey, I'm not knocking the ghetto... I used to live in East Side San Jose!) I recommend such a look to all the biracial ladies out there. Who says we have to be tied down by our hair?

Target doesn't have this particular hat anymore, but here is a similar style:

Target Knit Cap

I know I'm not the first to realize the awesomeness of these hats, but if you're as slow to find fashion as I am, maybe this will help you along.

--Shannon Luders-Manuel

Hello, World

I haven't written much lately because I've been working on an anonymous blog, and because I'm suffering from "stage fright" with this one. When I began my online journey, at www.shannonluders.com, I was fresh out of college with a stack of newspaper columns under my belt. A friend had been pressuring me to get a website for years, and I had finally assented, because I finally had something worthwhile to say to the masses. That website is defunct now with no way of updating it due to a stolen computer, so a couple years ago I started this blog, not so much as a way to blog, but as a place to link all my outside articles into one destination. Now that these articles are being published in such professional places, getting my name out there into cyberspace, I'm a bit at odds about what I want this actual blog reel to be. Type my name into google, and you'll find a plethora of pages, and with my hyphenated name, there is only one me. I now face the moment in my professional career where I withhold my last name from people I date until I'm ready for them to have access to my public persona. And as an almost-graduated, now long-distance student who's laying low until the next phase of her career starts, there's really not a whole lot to share.

So until I figure out the next stage, peace out to all my beautiful readers. The future awaits.

--Shannon Luders-Manuel

Flaunt What You've Got

After two hairstylists turning away my naturally curly hair in Amherst, Massachusetts, I've returned to the West coast and found someone who shapes, snips, and shampoos my hair fearlessly. She and the manager ooh and ahh, asking if they can touch my corkscrew splendor. The stylist gives it fresh layers, which no one had done since I moved to the East coast three years ago, and at the end of the appointment she actually invites me to return.

What is it between East coast and West? It's not a matter of town versus city, for I found my life-changing hairstylist in a little town in Oregon. Maybe it's a West coast celebration of working with what you've got instead of trying to be someone you're not. Or maybe it's just the luck of finding gems in an industry that doesn't learn how to embrace black hair in its natural fashion.

Today was Ty-Over day on Top Model. As always, a number of girls came out of the salon with extensions. I understand the workings of the modeling industry, but as she is a proud black woman, I wish that Tyra could impart a proudness of black hair in all its frizzy glory. Sure, modeling is all about adopting a persona, but maybe if Tyra let the girls be nappy they would be more happy and not tear each other to pieces every cycle in the model house.

March (or late February) also marked the month of Chris Rock's "Good Hair" documentary on DVD. Just as Indian women work in (I assume sweat shop) factories to provide our provocative Victoria's Secret underwear, those same women have their heads shaved in religious ceremonies, and, unbeknownst to them, have that precious hair sold on the "black market" in America. Black women cherish these weaves as if they were cherished poodles. The weaves do just as much for their social status as the pets do to "celebutants" in New York and L.A. But poodles poop, and hair comes off, and what are we left with? The adornment of another creature's precious locks.

There is a biracial model by the name of Gabrielle on this cycle of Top Model, who actually entered the competition with her own hair, and got to keep that same hair after the Tyover. While her hair is dyed, yes, each strand is actually her own. It falls about her face in curly ringlets that are just a little bit out of hand. My cousin calls her look angelic. I call it a breath of fresh air.

--Shannon Luders-Manuel

East of My Eden

I’m packing up my apartment in preparation for my flight back to what my long time friends affectionately call the “Better coast.” As a writer, I can’t not take this time to reflect on the past two and a half years I spent at an East coast graduate institution. Anyone who follows my blog knows that I live in the liminal space between clear definitions, and now that I have lived in New England, my bi-coastal existence is no exception. People often ask me what the major differences are between the two coasts. After repeatedly wracking my brain, the only thing I can come up with is that the East coast is where our traditional history comes from, and is the landscape upon which children’s books are based. It’s been surreal to me to live in a place that has housed Emily Dickenson, Noah Webster, and many other historical figures that I am too lazy to remember at the moment. L.A. may be the place of movies and reality TV, Manhattan may be the Big Apple, but New England houses our history in the day to day, nitty gritty sense. It’s the birthplace or Mecca of many of our historical politicians, poets, writers, and cultural icons. And when we open Peter Rabbit, Little Women, and (if we include Canada) Anne of Green Gables, the East coast reflects the landscape of such classic stories. When you move to the East coast you learn that the town of Mystic, which brought us Julia Roberts’ debut role, is in fact a real place and that yes, Boston is just as obsessed with the Red Sox as is portrayed, and that L.L. Bean backpacks with embroidered initials--and black North Face fleeces--are worn by everyone and no one thinks it’s funny.

The differences and similarities between the two coasts are not my intended focus of this blog entry, however. Rather, it is what my time in the East coast has given me. Though I have only spent two and a half years here, I am leaving a somewhat different person that the girl who arrived. First of all, at the age of 33 I no longer see myself as a “girl.” This comes mainly from the experience of having taught actual girls (and boys), and of being given the power to give them As or Fs at my discretion. It’s knowing that I have changed lives for the better through helping students realize the liminal spaces in which they live, and to question the standard assumption that everything occurs in black and white. Just as life-changing, the East coast has given me my first ever set of black and biracial friends who will never know just how big of a void they filled. I see myself reflected back through them, in both a literal and metaphorical sense. Not only do we share similar skin tones and similar hair, but I now don’t question myself when I see things through race-conscious eyes and when I get upset about race issues that don’t seem to bother my (though wonderful) white friends and family. Lastly, for those of you who know me well, I am returning to the “Better coast” with the ability to take my life and my relationships to the next level. In numerous ways the East coast has “fixed me,” and for that I am eternally grateful. 

--Shannon Luders-Manuel