Throughout my childhood, I struggled to build the idolized ‘father-son’ relationship that I knew my father hoped to have. For me, building that relationship meant meeting his standards of hyper-masculinity and “manliness”, that way I could mold myself into the man he envisioned I’d become. One of those standards was a strict control of my hair. From a young age, I wasn’t allowed to style my own hair and my dad made me get a haircut every two weeks. As I got older, I made my own appointments every two weeks. It annoyed me when my haircut wasn’t clean, I hated seeing the sides grow out. I was conditioned, for sure. But looking back at everything, my relationship with my dad and stuff, I think my dad was just trying to fight the all the “lazy Mexican” and “bandito” stereotypes by making me wear this clean, “put together”, military cut.
But leaving for college and being away from home has definitely helped me develop my own sense of self. That's when I started letting my hair grow out. It was hard for me to let my hair grow out, but once I passed that awkward hair phase, I started to embrace my long hair. Not being tied to an appointment log or my dad’s expectations of what makes a real “Mexican man” has definitely liberated me.
Column by Maria Salcido