The connection between a grandmother and her granddaughter — and mother and daughter — is special, especially when it’s bound by braids. Writer Araceli Esparza tells us more about it in the story, “Braided Life.”
wears their hair differently.
But not me.
I wear a braid, like mi mamá, and she wears her braid like her mamá, — my grandmother. Braids are familia, but some days with all of its twists and turns I want it loose or to cut it short and wear it spiky.
Like hers, or theirs or his…
My braids are
Stretched, looped, and tied in every way.
I wear one every day.
“Mamá, why do we wear braids?” Quetzali asks.
“Braids are who we are, mija.
I wear braids. Abuelita wear braids. Braids are like family and we are family every day.”
“I don’t want to wear my braids anymore; I want to be like everyone else with short hair or curly hair and be me!”
“Quetzali, your braid is you. I am a part of your braid with you always, but if you want to cut your hair, it’s okay. It will grow back.”
At school, I see wavy hair, corn-rolled hair, twisty hair and even colored hair.
I want to snap mis trenzas away, but touching them reminds me what Mamá said and I walk on.
In front of a mirror, I comb up
“Hmmmm, maybe like this,”
“Or like this,”
To make new hair and a new me.
“Abuelita, not everyone wears trenzas,”
At the tienda, there’s short, spiky and long hair — but mis trenzas are woven.
At the dress shop, I see round, soft and fluffy hair — but my braids are pulled tight.
At the fix-it story, there’s sleek back and shiny hair — but my braids hang down.
“You are right, Quetzali, everyone wears their hair differently,”
“Our hair connects us to where we work, who we are and where we come from,” Abuelita tells me on the way to the park.
I run, but my braids make me slow to chase, or too big to go under. After a while, my braids are like two matted fighting cats.
“Abuelita, the kids at school yanked on mis trenzas and sometimes my braids get in the way of having fun.”
Gently she sits me up on the chair, and begins to part my hair.
“Hmm, I understand Quetzali. Sometimes, when people see trenzas they wish to have one. Because they don’t have one, they feel that teasing is the only way.”
“Abuelita, if I cut my hair, will I still be familia?”
“Ahy, Quetzali, familia is familia always. Remember if you do cut your hair, it will grow back!”
Sitting in the Salon, with pinned up hair ready for my haircut, I see me without my long strong hair and I see…
With a twirl I stop her scissor hands, and make my braids like propellers — with a WOOSH! Zoooooom ZOOOOM!
Between backyards, from playgrounds and rooftops I see all these people with
Brown Braided hair, like me,
Royal and proud.
My braids, My braids
I wear them every day. Because I like it that way!
Mi familia y amigas are like mis trenzas — with me all day.
I learned to love them and me, in every braided way!
SONGS: “La Trenza” by Mon Laferte
“Cielito de Abril” by Mon Laferte
“Helicopter” by M. Ward