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“Daddy, can I sit next to you?” My four-year-old son looked up at me in earnest. We were standing in the TSA line at Los Angeles International Airport. “Of course,” I replied. As we proceeded through the security screening, I thought about the experiences my wife and I are providing our children. I also thought about how I needed to get some work done. I hoped the flight would make the children tired.
As readers know, I moved with my wife and three children from the United States to Mexico in 2016. We moved to focus our efforts on our entrepreneurial ventures, spend more time together as a family, and to provide our children with an opportunity to experience a different culture.
It’s been a little over one year since we made our transition. I have learned a lot about raising two Black boys outside the United States.
Everywhere we go in the small Mexican beach town we now call home, our children receive a lot of attention—in part because of their hair. People we don’t know ask if they can touch our boys’ hair, which is styled in dreadlocks like mine.
Among other teachable moments, I have learned to reinforce in them the importance of appreciating their unique background.
I started the process to wear my own hair in dreadlocks fourteen years ago. It was a decision informed by the social and political awareness that professors, teachers, and friends awakened in me during undergrad at the University of Illinois at Chicago. In my circles, dreadlocks were a physical reflection of pride in the history and culture unique to people of African descent. They were a symbol of resistance to dominant beliefs that encouraged short and “easily tamed” hairstyles among Black men.
When my wife gave birth to our sons, there did not exist a trace of doubt whether I would also transform my boys’ hair into locks.
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It has been one of my goals as a father to encourage our children to love every component of their being. Their physical bodies and inner souls make each of them unique and significant. I believe that the style of their hair reflects their cultural values, and I want them to be full of self-love and respect for others in need.
I am not suggesting that if one day our daughter decides to straighten her hair, or our boys want to cut their hair, that they would cease to possess the capacity to be their best selves. Nor am I arguing that if they make any modifications to their hairstyles they will convey a message of disregard for their ancestors.
I am suggesting that through hair, in addition to the other behaviors I model, they can arrive at a positive understanding of their selves and their potential.
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For the first time in a while, I was not stopped by a TSA agent in the airport for an additional security check. Whether I am in Los Angeles, Chicago, or Dallas, frequently I am asked to wait for a pat-down that includes my hair, often worn pulled back in a pony-tail. After experiencing the “VIP” pat-down treatment nearly every time I travel, I have come to expect it as an inevitable part of the departure process in airports.
My family and I arrived at the airport three hours before our scheduled departure, because we were expecting holiday and additional screening-related delays. However, the traveling crowd was light at the time of our flight. And thankfully, I was allowed to pass through security without the usual pause. We made it to our gate with time to spare.
When we boarded the plane and found our seats, my four-year-old son was sitting next to me. He was full of energy and excitement to fly on the airplane back to Mexico. After taxying for several minutes on the runway, I read to him and he began to drift to sleep.
I pulled one of his dreads back from his face, put his head on my lap, and quietly said: “Enjoy the flight, little dread.”
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