A year minus a day

Graduating from college has a way of taking up time...needless to say, I haven't really been updating this blog. BUT I've been taking photos and my hair remains organically uncut.

After my hair grew past the awkward chia pet stage, I received intermittent complements on my 'hair cut', especially in the past two or three months. The complement often passes by too quickly for me to explain that I haven't cut my hair since May and that it's just my hair growing out in the most natural layers I'll ever have. The Buzz, I have found, is just too much to explain in the time span of one "Thank you."

As it grows near to the end of this personal life experiment, I still have no regrets. I really like that I did shave all my hair off. I'm continuously thankful for my family and friends for loving me and enjoying the various stages of hair growth with me. Those are some quick reflective thoughts as one day more remains before the anniversary of The Buzz.

Because of finals and my greater desire to pass these last classes than have a more polished hair style, I will not be getting a hair cut right on the anniversary of The Buzz, but I will be allowing myself to get a hair cut as to prepare myself for the world of full-time employment and real life and such.

For now, here's some photos of the progress of growth:

January 6, 2016

February 5, 2016

March 27, 2016

Final update to come tomorrow!

Hair Update 5: On Bravery

The picture above shows six months and two and a half weeks post-shave. I have cultivated a hair helmet. Look out world, I'm on my way to a Beiber swoop + mullet combo.

At its current length, my hair suggests a recent hair cut as opposed to a full head shave. So when I inform people that my current style is a post-shave result, I have often been told that I am brave for shaving off my hair. I then thank them for thinking so and we carry on with our conversation.

I do not think I was brave to shave my hair. To be brave is to face something that carries a certain amount of risk, danger, or fear; it is to be courageous, to stand firmly in one's convictions in the face of uncertainty and opposition. When I shaved my head, I was surrounded by the support and encouragement of my family and friends. I faced very little danger to my being, or my reputation, or my relationships. I did not have to worry about rejection or being ostracized. My greatest concern probably lay in the realm of exposing a potentially oddly-shaped scalp.

Rather than being brave, I would say that my decision was bold, daring, unconventional, youthful, or experimental. I have had the blessing to say that I did not require bravery to go bald. I was not faced with a medical diagnosis. I did not have to anticipate a societal backlash. I did not have to act in any sort of rebellion. I simply had the luxury to make a decision and follow it through.

For someone else, shaving their head may be an incredibly brave act. In my case, I cannot make that claim. I can only be thankful for the social environment I live in that makes it possible for me to make such a decision so fearlessly.

Hair Update 4

After four months and three some weeks of growth, my natural part is starting to show. My part evades any attempts of alteration and has decided that a middle part and only a middle part will do.

If you were wondering how exactly to evaluate my current hair style, I humbly offer the following three part analysis:
1. The Half Bangs: not quite long enough to fall gracefully upon my forehead, these only show their true length potential when I don a beanie.
2. The Ear Flaps: cleverly disguising my ears, these modest side-burn extensions serve as a wire-y barrier between my head and my headphones.
3. The Back Shag: hinting towards a mullet, this waterfall of layers threatens to defy gravity with varying styles of bedhead.

Basically, my hair is developing into a mullet. Come January, my ears, forehead, and neck will have extra insulation to resist the chilly winter winds.

My Hair Grow

Having fully commenced the school year, I have received many compliments regarding my "new hair cut". Usually the comment is so fleeting, I only have time to say thanks, but, sometimes, I get to explain that my new do is more of a hair grow than a hair cut.

So far, I have decided to grow my hair out, au natural, for a full year from my initial shave. For the duration of my senior year, until May 3, 2016, I will let my hair flourish untamed as it likes. The only reason I will cut my hair before then is if it impedes in my search for a job. Hair does significantly determine one's overall image and in the professional world, I suppose image does matter. And because I care about paying my student debts, I will cut my hair if I have to. 

Otherwise, prepare yourselves for increasingly awkward, totally natural hair styles. I have yet to purchase any styling gel or mousse, though I may experiment just for fun. I look forward to the sculptural forms of bed head, my developing mullet, the inevitable bangs of unfortunate shortness and all other things that would make a hair-stylist cringe. 

Let us see what craziness awaits!

Hair Update 3 (and other thoughts)

More than twelve weeks have passed and my hair continues to defy gravity.

Only when drenched in water do the fuzzy spikes flatten forward like an overhang for my forehead. An odd divot does form when I wear headphones for an extended amount of time. Otherwise, spikiness.

Sporting this untrimmed short do allows me to be privy to children's gender identification qualifications. This summer I have been working with elementary-aged students and I have confused some of them. I have been asked if I was a boy and then watched the surprise and wide-eyed wonder as I reveal that I am, in fact, a girl. Then, I am usually asked why my hair is so short.

My decision to shave my head does not make much sense to the students I work with, especially in the mostly Dominican-American culture in which they are raised. Most of the girls have hair that's grown well-past their shoulders, usually braided or tied back in one manner or another. Some of the girls are taught that girls wear their hair braided up while women wear their hair down. All of the boys and men have clean, short hair cuts. Considering I possess neither standard gendered hair styles, my hair is just kinda weird.

Of course, after verbally confirming my girl-hood, the kids more or less shrug their shoulders and carry on with their lives, only after discovering how enticingly fuzzy my hair is. Every day I will have at least one student who walks up to me and just starts petting my head. No salutation, just petting.

I cannot say that I walk around with unfettered confidence in who I am (and where I is and what I be...) regardless of the state of my hair. At times I feel like it would be easier to have a conventional hair length, like longer hair would make it easier to feel pretty or look pretty. Dare I speak of insecurity? Absolutely. I do not regret my decision to shave my head, but I definitely have the constant desire to fit in with feminine "normalcy".

I like being a "good" kind of normal and a "good" kind of different. Recently I was confronted with the reality that I am not as confident as I think myself to be. I try so much to maintain my own kind of "cool weird normal-ness" in a continuous effort to gain acceptance from the people around me. I rely on responsive laughter and verbal affirmations to gauge how "acceptable" I am being in any given social situation. When others don't react in a way I think is "accepting of me", I label them in my mind as either "not fun" or I label myself as "somehow lacking". Really, neither labeling is great because I either unfairly judge or put myself down.

I find myself having to remind myself of a the greater, ultimately unchanging confidence that I have in Christ. Judging my value or worth based on my perception of other's opinions of me will always be an emotional roller coaster. One day I will be on top of the world in thinking that I have successfully been cool to everyone I encountered and the next I will be discouraged thinking that I have committed some ridiculous faux pas. I know this will be a life-long struggle, but I have great hope in God's unwavering love and Christ's eternal redemption.

In His vast love, His fathomless grace, and His indescribable mercy, God removed my penalty of death for my irrevocable sin and place that penalty of death upon Himself. As His child, God values me beyond what any one person could value me. He has created me specifically and beautifully. My true identity lies beyond what anyone in this world could label me as and lies beyond anything I could label myself.

So when I beat myself up, or feel like a social failure, or think I lack beauty because of my short hair, I come to remind myself that I am ultimately not defined by the labels of this world. I am a child of God, heir with Christ, beloved as a member of the body of the Church, fearfully and wonderfully made, and a sinner no longer condemned but ultimately redeemed.

"For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, "Abba! Father!" The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs - heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him."                                                                  [Romans 8:15-17]

"But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ..."         [Philippians 3: 7-8] 

Hair Update 2

Six weeks and two days later, and I've only been mistaken for a boy twice. Occasionally my mother affectionately tells me I look like an Asian middle school boy. Yes, the boy-ish looking stage has begun.

The summer has also begun, in earnest, allowing me to witness my sweat glisten on my scalp as well as my forehead, something I've never been able to see before. My head now maintains the healthy appearance of a Chia pet. I have never really sought out similarities with our current president, Barak Obama, but I couldn't help to find this one:

My hair is not quite as long as the green sprouts upon Chia Obama's head, but it's getting there. Currently it's about a half inch short. According to my calculations, I should have about four inches of hair next year, just long enough for a eyebrow-length bowl cut of sorts. Oh, the possibilities. 

I'm not sure how long my hair will have to be before it transitions from spiky afro to an unevenly layered shag. Only time will tell. Onwards to the endless potential of naturally odd hair styles!

Itchy Grass

My beard-capable friends warned me of the itchiness that comes with post-shave hair growth. And I thought I would be spared of such an inconvenience. The first two or so weeks passed itch free. I felt confident, proud of my sprouting scalp, and congratulated myself for having such amiable hair follicles.

Such bliss came to an end, and, for the past two weeks, my hair has been like a batch of itchy grass. Does it matter that I took a shower three hours before? Nope. Cleanliness deters the itchiness of mine head only for a moment before the itchiness begins again. I have resigned myself to my fate, hoping that once my hair grows out more, my scalp will find itself to be more agreeable.

For now, my coping strategy (or non-coping strategy) include jamming a baseball cap on my head, taking off said baseball cap and rubbing my head to relieve itchiness, putting baseball cap back on with reminder for self-control and endurance, and sighing at my scalp-beard-like predicament. .

Perhaps the next centimeter of growth will be more agreeable.