Working retail during the holiday season is a bitch. There's no nice way of putting it. Thankfully I work for a company that is eco-friendly, both environmentally and economically. I take pride in the work I do and am happy to make sure that each customer is going home with the right products to suit their needs. At the end of each transaction from the middle of November until Christmas day, I would close my conversation with the customer with: "Happy Holidays!" I did this not only because I don't want to offend anyone, but also because I myself don't have Christ in my Christmas so wishing someone a merry one seems out of place.
It wouldn't be fair to classify myself as a Christian as I don't believe that Christ is my savior, someone else maybe, but not mine. I consider myself a spirtualist as I am very aware that what God is is much larger than anything any one group of people could define, so I find bits of truth as well as faults with each religion I research. Unfortunately, many people are much more close-minded than myself and I encountered several of them this season.
As I wished this woman "happy holidays," she made a big stink about how no one says "Merry Christmas" anymore. She went on a rampage about how we're in American and therefore we should all be celebrating Christmas. Since customers are miraculously always right, even though they can be very, very wrong, I agreed with her that it can be upsetting to always have to be so politically correct, but I did not wish her a Merry Christmas or agree that Christmas should be the only holiday celebrated.
With all of that said, I hope that whatever it is that you did or will celebrate is absolutely wonderful!
Showing posts with label societal norms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label societal norms. Show all posts
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Did I Shave My Head For This?
On Thursday, January 29th, 2009, with four hours between classes, I decided it was the perfect day for me to shave my head. Because it was an event I had been looking forward to for about seventeen years of my life, I was quite let down by the event itself. The girl asked me numerous times if I was certain that I wanted my head shaved. She asked again and again why I wanted it done. Apparently the truth wasn't convincing enough and though I repeated the same story I still don't think she got it.
When I was a kid, I saw a woman with a shaved head and found it striking, not in a shocking or unusual way, but in an attractive, bold way. Shaving my head became another thing on the list of things to do before I die. It was put on the list before I understood my attraction to women, before I knew that I was queer.
High school would have been the worst time imaginable to make that sort of drastic appearance move, so I thought I'd wait until I was safe in the arms of a mostly liberal-minded college campus, eight hours away from home. I had a few haircuts my freshman year, but mostly my hair, much like my life, was pretty bland. My primary way of self expression was through talking, chatting, gossiping. By the time sophomore year rolled around, I was involved with three student organizations, had a few separate social spheres and I started letting peers see a different side of me while I started playing rugby. Through the season I frequently noted how I wouldn't get my hair pulled or nearly as dirty if my head was shaved. For whatever reason, I went the whole season without shaving it and then it got cold and I got my first girlfriend.
During one of our discussions on what my sexuality actually is, she claimed: "You're not truly a lesbian until you shave your head." I wasn't certain if this was one of her jokes that didn't make me laugh or if she was serious. I vowed not to shave my head while I was dating her. I had nothing to prove to anyone and I knew that shaving my head might make a statement, but the statement would come from societal norms, not from me. I put the idea out of my mind for awhile.
Then, last January after fussing with hat hair and static electricity, I started strongly considering how nice it would be to remove those agitators from my life. I told some classmates and co-workers that it could happen any day. They thought I was crazy and suggested I wait at least until spring. I couldn't.
I did however wait about ten minutes for a chair to open at the Cost Cutters on campus. And I was only in the chair for about fifteen. It was strange how refreshed I felt, how light, how accomplished. Accomplished is not the word anyone else chose when they saw me or pictures for the first time. I didn't mind though, I was satisfied.
Most people responded positively. Several women told me they wished they had the guts to do it too. I told them that it doesn't take guts, just some clippers. There were however a few setbacks. My shaved head made me appear more butch than I'd like to consider myself. I felt that the only way to really combat this was by dolling myself up a little more, but then I didn't feel like myself because I either had make-up on or more feminine attire than I'd typically choose for a night out. Since I like femme girls who like femme girls, I was striking out. Ladies, if you're reading this hoping to get some sort of relationship advice, I'll tell you this: Shaving your head does not in any way guarantee you a girlfriend or even a date.
This year I've learned why women enjoy getting their hair colored or cut on a regular basis. I can control my hair, I like when people touch my head and I like when someone notices a different with my appearance. Now my hair is only about two inches shorter than it was before I shaved it. Between the initial shaving I've shaved it down for a few months, let it grow, bleached the tips, henna dyed it, mohawked it (yes, with the sides shaved), and have decided that I'm going to let it grow out.
It's going to take awhile but that's what's in store for 2010.
2009: A Year In Hair, The Pictures
When I was a kid, I saw a woman with a shaved head and found it striking, not in a shocking or unusual way, but in an attractive, bold way. Shaving my head became another thing on the list of things to do before I die. It was put on the list before I understood my attraction to women, before I knew that I was queer.
High school would have been the worst time imaginable to make that sort of drastic appearance move, so I thought I'd wait until I was safe in the arms of a mostly liberal-minded college campus, eight hours away from home. I had a few haircuts my freshman year, but mostly my hair, much like my life, was pretty bland. My primary way of self expression was through talking, chatting, gossiping. By the time sophomore year rolled around, I was involved with three student organizations, had a few separate social spheres and I started letting peers see a different side of me while I started playing rugby. Through the season I frequently noted how I wouldn't get my hair pulled or nearly as dirty if my head was shaved. For whatever reason, I went the whole season without shaving it and then it got cold and I got my first girlfriend.
During one of our discussions on what my sexuality actually is, she claimed: "You're not truly a lesbian until you shave your head." I wasn't certain if this was one of her jokes that didn't make me laugh or if she was serious. I vowed not to shave my head while I was dating her. I had nothing to prove to anyone and I knew that shaving my head might make a statement, but the statement would come from societal norms, not from me. I put the idea out of my mind for awhile.
Then, last January after fussing with hat hair and static electricity, I started strongly considering how nice it would be to remove those agitators from my life. I told some classmates and co-workers that it could happen any day. They thought I was crazy and suggested I wait at least until spring. I couldn't.
I did however wait about ten minutes for a chair to open at the Cost Cutters on campus. And I was only in the chair for about fifteen. It was strange how refreshed I felt, how light, how accomplished. Accomplished is not the word anyone else chose when they saw me or pictures for the first time. I didn't mind though, I was satisfied.
Most people responded positively. Several women told me they wished they had the guts to do it too. I told them that it doesn't take guts, just some clippers. There were however a few setbacks. My shaved head made me appear more butch than I'd like to consider myself. I felt that the only way to really combat this was by dolling myself up a little more, but then I didn't feel like myself because I either had make-up on or more feminine attire than I'd typically choose for a night out. Since I like femme girls who like femme girls, I was striking out. Ladies, if you're reading this hoping to get some sort of relationship advice, I'll tell you this: Shaving your head does not in any way guarantee you a girlfriend or even a date.
This year I've learned why women enjoy getting their hair colored or cut on a regular basis. I can control my hair, I like when people touch my head and I like when someone notices a different with my appearance. Now my hair is only about two inches shorter than it was before I shaved it. Between the initial shaving I've shaved it down for a few months, let it grow, bleached the tips, henna dyed it, mohawked it (yes, with the sides shaved), and have decided that I'm going to let it grow out.
It's going to take awhile but that's what's in store for 2010.
2009: A Year In Hair, The Pictures
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