I Got Indian in My Family

OK, I am back to blogging after about a month off. For shame. I'm really going to try to stick with it this time. Test my ability to commit to something...we'll see.

Anyhoo, back to the matter at hand...

Why is it when black peoples claim to have "Indian" in their family, no one believes them. It's like a running joke now. Back in the day if someone had a hint of curl in their hair, they would try to claim they were "Indian" and then the other person would roll their eyes in disbelief.

I've been growing my hair out for over a year now. I used to hate for it to ever be longer than shoulder length because it's really thick and I thought trying to style it would be a hassle, so I decided to keep it at a decent length with some layers to give it some pizzaz.

On my birthday in 2006, I was going through some changes in my life. I went to my 8 week touch-up appointment and told my stylist to cut it to my shoulders. He got a little scissor happy and cut it to around chin-length. But I was fine with the length because I think short hair is cute (in fact, if I didn't have such a big head I would go for the Halle Berry cut).

But everyone I knew had a FIT when they saw how short my hair was. I guess maybe it looked shorter in pictures than it did in real-life, but I was getting all kinds of comments on Myspace ("OMG! You cut your hair! Why??") and ("Don't worry, it will grow back..."). Gee, thanks.

I was loving the short hair. But the day after the cut, I was in the mall, and a cashier in the store asked me what I was mixed with. I thought that was an odd question. Then she commented on the texture of my hair and how smooth it was. I guess she doesn't know about the Dominican blow-out.

So it's been over a year since that haircut, and I decided to go to the opposite extreme and not cut my hair until I feel it's reached it's maximum length, and then surprise everyone with a massive chop. I know, I'm evil.

I was on vacation awhile ago and while inline, another cashier asked me what I was mixed with. I never realized this was such a common question....

My hair was definitely NOT smooth this time. In fact, I was having a tragic "hair-event". It was wild and bushy and thick and long, and the cashier was fascinated by it. I think she was disapointed when I told her I was just your regular garden-variety Negro.

But the funny thing is that I DO have Indian in my family...but I wouldn't dare tell anyone that.

When I was a little girl, my grandmother told me how, when SHE was a little girl, she had so much hair that her mother chopped it all off because it was too much to deal with. Now, we don't have any picture of my great-grandmother, but my grandmother said that she was Indian (that is, Native American), so I will assume she knows what she's talking about.

In fact, if you look at pictures of my grandmother and her siblings, they definitely have Native American features.

So I will continue to believe that I have Indian (as well as other stuff) in my family. Why is it so hard to believe that all of us have other ethnicities in our blood? After all, the vast majority of us (black, white, other) are not indiginous to the country. And with all the different shades of black people that we have, it seems pretty logical that there was some race mixing going on back in the day.

But will I tell anyone that I have Indian in my family? Probably not...I don't feel like getting the eye-rolls anymore. :)