I wish I knew why we white people want to touch your hair. It must be primal. I am the mother of a Black son. I’ve touched his hair his whole life, of course. I frickin know what it feels like. And yet, I still watched my hand in horror not long ago as it reached out to fondle a friend’s braids. Sigh.

Psychotherapist, Hypnotherapist. Leans Left. Mindfulness practioner before it was cool. M.Ed., LPC. Carolsantafe93@gmail.com.

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