Category: Non-Fiction

Juneteenth

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Freedom Day?

Image courtesy of The Washington Post

Juneteenth marks the day in 1865 when federal troops arrived in Galveston, Texas, to take control of the state and ensure all enslaved people be freed, more than two years after the Emancipation Proclamation.

 — Jae C. Hong/AP

Celebrations of the holiday started out regionally in Texas, but as Black Americans spread out across the United States, they brought their traditions with them, including remembrances for one of the final vestiges of chattel slavery.

— Alana Wise/NPR

This is a federal holiday. Many of us would love to be off from our jobs to celebrate and reflect upon it, but depending on the industry in which you work (if you work), this isn’t so. 

I work in the medical field: specifically, radiology scheduling. We do not get Martin Luther King, Jr. Day off, so of course, Juneteenth will not be any different. *Insert unsurprised look here*

Although, much to my chagrin, I am off from work for a different reason. 

I am not feeling well; taking a chance on creating a new dish that included adobo and coconut and a host of other spices (and it was incredibly delicious), then following that up with a huge bowl of ice cream, my body has taken a stance all on its own to have me laid up, attempting to recuperate from a MAJOR digestive response to my eating habits last night.

I have grown used to not being off when my peers are — to batting away at incoming calls left and right in order to schedule patients for their much-needed procedures. Before this position, I was used to checking patients in or screening them for COVID-19 symptoms and ensuring their medical insurance coverage was up-to-date and accurate.

And before that, I had been explaining medical insurance coverage to patients and informing them of their estimated out-of-pocket due for certain gastroenterological and eye procedures. I am used to working when others are not for federally recognized holidays.

And if my digestive system was up to it, I would be logged on at this moment, taking calls.

But for those of you who are off; for those of you who can celebrate this day and reflect upon it in ways that are beneficial to you and your community, I hope you will.

Widespread recognition of the holiday was slow moving. For years, it was a relatively obscure holiday celebrated among Black people with little acknowledgment or understanding from outside cultures and communities.

— Alana Wise/NPR

While I am recuperating and learning my lesson from concocting things my body cannot tolerate, I will further educate myself on this glorious day by reading about specific events, festivals, and moments of reflection that took place this weekend and will take place today.

Grow in peace. Grow in love. Even though this is Freedom Day, many of us are still not free.

Peace and blessings.

The Battle With an Ever-Changing Body and How I’m Winning the War

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The Battle With an Ever-Changing Body and How I’m Winning the War

Kathy Garland has been so kind to host my article at Navigating the Change. In it, I speak a bit more about my experience with perimenopause.

I hope you take the time to read this one and let it settle in your bones for just a spell.

Peace and blessings.

The Transition to Microlocs and My Hair Journey in Phases

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Phase IV: I marvel at the length, and I am in love with every strand

Interlocked and cornrowed again. Photo Collage Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

I continue to be amazed by this journey. The path is curvy with twists and turns, and on some days, I am unsure where we (Ájá & I) are headed, but I am glad we are on our way.

My last wash and interlocking session was on March 11, 2023. My hair was out and free to grow and lock and become a force of beauty and strength. And it did exactly that.

On Sunday, May 07, 2023, my cousin had the tedious task of washing, re-sectioning, and interlocking my hair. I am no stranger to these methods now; I am a soldier on a familiar battleground, and the war is almost at its end.

Just under two months after my last wash and interlocking session, I am greeted by more length and a fuller head of hair.

There is peace in the calming hands of another

My cousin does an incredible job with my hair. When she washes it, my soul is moved. I can feel the cleansing process while it’s taking place, and my mind is at ease. She scratches it in sections and pays attention to the dryer spots.

She is like a surgeon — the way she dances around my head with her fingers; plotting the best ways to relieve itching. My hair always feels ten times cleaner and lighter after her hands have massaged my head.

She is thorough yet gentle with just the right amount of force to push away dirt and dandruff buildup. It’s fascinating — the washing process. I am not only in an impeccably relaxed state, but I am also overcome with serenity and joy.

When my hair is clean, I know the next steps are to interlock each section and pull any new growth into its rightful places for continued growth and locking.

With every session, my anticipation heightens

Growth and thickness. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

During every interlocking session, my anxiety builds. I am anxious to see the outcome. However, there is also an intense amount of patience — knowing that this process provides added length and replenishes the hair as well.

I wish I had the words to describe how I feel walking around with an ever-changing head of hair. I do not.

We started this process as microlocs, but my hair has loc’d in a way that is clearly its own. My locs will probably be bigger than microlocs or even sisterlocks, and I am all right with this.

Whatever Ájá wants to do, I am on board with it! This transition is one I signed up for and perfection was not in the cards.

I want to see what the end of the year will bring when we make it to a full year of interlocking and patiently waiting.

I want to know what December 2023 Ájá will look like. And I know with my cousin’s hands creating, washing, and maintaining my crown of glory, the sight will be one to see.

I marvel at the length, and I am in love with every strand

My hair is growing. It flows on its own and lands just above the nape of my neck. There are sections that are longer than others, but this is to be expected, as I am also growing out a short haircut.

I stare at myself in the mirror. I gaze at my graying edges and perimeter, and I am wooed by these changes.

New nose ring (had the old stud switched out to the one). Graying all around. Locs doing what they want to. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

I am not the same woman. I am changing along with my hair, and every day brings a newer side to me which I am eager to embrace.

The Powers That Be promoted me at work. They have invited me to be a part of our Engagement Team. These novel happenings are keeping me sane and giving me hope for a brighter future.

There is still a deep pain from the loss of my beloved cousin early last year, but I am moving along on a happier note.

I no longer carry grief in my pockets. I hold her memory close to my heart, sit in my favorite chair, and twist my hair because of a new habit.

And with each twisted strand, I think of Chrissy, and I wonder if she’s enjoying this journey with me, too.

I am happy with Ájá’s growth. I admire the length of my hair, and I long to see how long it will get before I become tired of it being too long.

I don’t foresee this happening. I have happily embraced every phase so far. I am positive this will continue.

December 11, 2023, will be one full year

At the end of this year, I will share where my hair journey has taken me.

One year of growing locs and maintaining them is steadily approaching. I am patient as I mark each day off on my calendar.

I have a few pieces of hair that have already locked and my heart flutters at the sight of them.

I am on my way to loving a full head of dreadlocks, and my soul can do nothing but smile.

Transitioning hair is a topic I love to discuss now. There will be more to come.

Part I, Part II, and Phase III

Originally published in An Injustice via Medium.

Rolling Around the Past with My Present

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A free verse poem

A quick selfie before I raced back onto the skating rink. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

I am in tune — my body
connects with my soul
as I rolled around the
skating rink.

Life has a funny way of
bringing you back
full circle — to where you
should have been a
decade ago, but here you
are now … ready to dive
into a pastime and you 
cannot remember why 
you let it go.

The music is blasting — speakers
are thumping with artists you
wish you could meet
in person. 
The strobe light spins and
shines … this is your forgotten
wonderland — your place
of peace.

As I smoothly circled around
the hardwood floor, hoodie
swaying in the breeze, I
would’ve paid good
money to see how wide the
smile was on my face.

My past used to torture me;
it used to send me into a
downward spiral and the
climb upward always catapulted me
into a fretful fit. 
And now, there’s this — this
pure goodness I should’ve
welcomed back with open
arms before today.

But maybe it wasn’t
time yet. 
Maybe I hadn’t reached the
place of growth I needed to
reach, and God is always
on time.

So, I am here … back in
this space that sends
me into an armful of
happiness with much
leftover to share — rolling
around the rink, reminiscent
of my past as I share it
with my present.

Originally published in soliloque via Medium.

The Transition to Microlocs and My Hair Journey in Phases

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Phase III: Re-learning what my hair can do

Post-wash, interlocking process. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

I know I have said this before but I will say it again, I love this process! I dove headfirst into this journey knowing it would be a tedious one. However, it is proving to be so fulfilling as well. I consider Ája to be pretty badass, and she is living up to her description with no doubts!

On Saturday, March 11, 2023, I lugged my haircare items over to my cousin’s house. I arrived just after 1:00 PM. I carved out five hours for this task as it has proven to be a time-consuming one as much as it is glorious.

I wanted to be sure I allotted enough time in my day to be available. This date was exactly 6 weeks from the last interlocking session.

As time moves closer to each wash and interlocking visit, I grow more and more elated. Watching what my hair has done since December 11, 2022, has opened my eyes to the beauty of haircare and why it is important for us to love our manes unconditionally.

We are what our hair can do

There is some truth in the above statement and a bit of falsity, too. We, Black women, are by no means, our hair, but we are what our hair can do. We can be full (of good & bad emotions), energetic, bouncy, exuberant, healthy, and inviting.

We can also be pillars of strength and power. And on our bad days, we can be weak, full of sadness, flimsy, lacking color, thin, and dull.

When I have my hair freshly done, I feel unstoppable. This feeling is akin to one that mirrors rejuvenation.

When my hair is on-point, my entire mood shifts — my world becomes a scene straight from my own fairytale meant to satisfy my needs only.

I am on Cloud 9 with all my luggage, headed for a brief stint on Happiness Row (IYKYK).

There is nothing and no one who can make me feel inferior when a fresh “do” has found its resting place as my crown of glory.

Post-wash and interlocking: roller-set phase. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

At the 4-hour and 30-minute mark, my cousin was done interlocking my microlocs. I could get up from the chair and check out the results before the next step.

I looked at our accomplishment in the bathroom mirror and smiled. I recall whispering something like, “This is really happening. It’s really happening” before I went back to the chair for the finishing touches.

What came next, I had already known about before arriving at her home, but it has been decades since I have had my hair “roller-set”. However, the process did not take long at all.

My cousin placed sponge/foam rollers in each section and advised me to let them stay in overnight.

I did as I was told.

Roller-set microlocs, front. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Giving my hair the stage it deserves

The end results are what you see above. I love the look — how Àja is bouncy and free and full of life! I adore how full and inviting my hair looks.

I have been transformed into my highest self just from a grand total of 4 hours and 45 minutes.

What makes it all worthwhile is when someone who loves you takes the time to love on your hair, too.

Roller-set microlocs, back. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

My cousin has truly been a blessing. Her talents are abundant, but using her skills to create art with one’s hair is by far a favorite of mine.

I assume that I am not the only one benefiting from this journey. She is gaining more experience with this particular genre of natural hair.

I am relearning what my hair can do, and it has been a titillating educational process so far.

I have the rollers with me at home, and I will roller-set my hair again in about 3 weeks. I plan to have it washed and interlocked again in 7–8 weeks.

Wherever we go, I will be there

Wherever Àja takes me on this journey, I’m going to be there — in my full and whole self, waiting to see exactly what else she can do.

And when my hair is finally loc’d and ready for the world to view its introductory walk into the light, I will be overjoyed.

The path is a much-needed one, and I am still skipping it effortlessly and with a heart full of happiness.

This journey has lit up my life in ways I cannot describe. I am a prisoner of this kind of self-care and self-love.

I will deny bail.

Originally published in An Injustice via Medium.

Part I and Part II

Jernee: A Glimpse

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Jernee: staring intently at me while my mom prepares a lunch she cannot have–sloppy joes. Video created by Tremaine L. Loadholt

I have my mom over for the weekend, and this is just a short clip from yesterday, of Jernee intently staring directly at me because she wanted some of what my mom was preparing to eat, which she could NOT have–sloppy joes!

When these two get together, a barrel of laughs is had. Lol. You can hear my mom talking in the background stating something along the lines of, “You keep saying she can’t hear and can’t see” and also, “She wasn’t paying me any kind of attention.”

My mom is a loud talker. Everything she says is at a volume I’d consider NOT being an “inside voice.” I’m certain that’s the blend of the Bronx, New York and West Savannah, Georgia deeply embedded in her upbringing. Lol!

I’m forever “Shushing” her and to no avail. Oh, but she is certainly funny, and Jernee & I enjoy her company from time to time.

She can be a bit much, though. This weekend, however, we are managing not to get on each other’s nerves too badly. So, I’ll take it.

Also, this is my first post using the Jetpack app which WordPress has basically shoved down my throat. Please tell me if the post is generated okay for you on your end.

I’ve also been using the Jetpack reader for about three days. Not bad. Not bad at all, actually. I may end up being a fan.