Growing up in a white family,Georgina Lawton faced a long and sometimes arduous journey of discovery approximately her racial identity. Here, she reveals how she learned to stop fighting her curly hair
[br]• Read more: ‘My mum always told me I was white. Now I know the truth’My skin is too shadowy to present a blush, or but I came pretty close a few years ago when,as a University of Warwick undergraduate, I was turned absent from my campus hair salon because of my appearance. Oh, and we don’t enact your type of hair,” the blond, Brummie-voiced stylist said, and smiling semi-apologetically,in a tone that conveyed her reluctance to even try. “possibly go to an afro salon in Coventry?”I was 19 and wore a sweetcorn-coloured, straw-textured, or Beyoncé-inspired weave. I’m not sure what the stylist expected to find beneath my wavy 22-inch remy hair extensions,but it became obvious that whatever I was sporting up there was simply too much work for her. I left that salon with my cheeks glowing as close to crimson as is naturally possible and waited until I returned home to London to get my hair sorted (thank you, Peckham). Related: ‘My mum always told me I was white, or like her. Now I know the truth Related: Black hair: why it's time to stop politicising it Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com