Starting at the Root
Serena, Kordell & Black Hair to the tune of "head.rap" by Saba & No I.D.
I wish y’all could see me watching Love Island USA. Sometimes, Elizabeth catches me watching certain scenes and notes the smile on my face. But no one on the show makes me smile more than my favorite couple this season: Serena and Kordell.
They began the season as a couple, surprising each other by both wearing the same shade of neon on the first episode. And contrary to most Love Island couples, they focused on building trust by becoming friends first. Even as Kordell damaged that trust in Casa Amor, they were able to rebuild their connection and come back even stronger.
It’s been beautiful to watch Serena stand up for what she deserves and Kordell fight to be the man she needs. I love how funny and sweet they are with each other, including a recent episode where Serena helped Kordell with his hair.
As a Black couple, their hair is immensely important to them—and you can see them playing with different styles throughout the season. “Is it going to stay because my shrinkage is crazy?” Kordell asks while Serena tends to his curls. He goes on to tell her, “You make me feel like myself.”
It reminds me of Saba’s recent collaboration with No I.D., featuring Madison McFerrin, Ogi, and Jordan Ward, called “head.rap” where Saba talks about his hair journey. Toward the end of the second verse, Saba raps:
“Couple of babies who done start they journey anew
I'm rootin' for you, we can start at the root”
I think about the intimacy of nurturing your people, especially within something as seemingly small as hair care. Also, I think about the ups and downs of my own hair journey, which has really been a journey of self-love and self-acceptance.
The sides of my natural hairline encroach on my forehead. When I would go to the barbershop growing up, sometimes the barber would immediately push my sides back; it was like a reflex. My mom would often ask whoever was cutting my hair to keep my natural line, which usually confused them. “Are you sure?” they would ask.
It wasn’t until I got to high school that it really registered for me that my hairline wasn’t normal. During my freshman and sophomore years, I played on the junior varsity basketball team, and some of the older guys on the varsity team started calling me “Hairline.”
I hated that they called me this because I could tell they weren’t laughing with me; they were laughing at me. Overnight, I became self-conscious about my hairline—only to recently find out that my dad and other men in my family had similar hairlines growing up.
While I now find beauty in that, I saw my hairline as a nuisance then; however, I didn’t know how to get rid of it. I could ask the barber to shape it up, but what about when the hair starts to grow back and it looks uneven?
I was afraid to cut my hair because I didn’t want to mess it up. Plus, I was never taught to cut or shape up my own hair. At that point, I had just started shaving, and it was hard enough learning that I couldn’t shave the same way my white classmates did because my hair was different.
It wasn’t until college that I started shaping up my own hair—mostly because I couldn’t afford regular trips to the barbershop. And even then, I wasn’t using the grooming razor like I am now.
On “head.rap,” Saba shares how the neck braids he had from growing out his hair helped him “build backbone.” He raps:
“Everybody flamed your ass
You either laughed or just hoped one day the style catch on”
There are nuances to Black hair. And for better or worse, we pay special attention to it partly because of how our people have clowned us for it. I can look at this as a mockery, and certainly it is, or I can choose to see it as love.
You might not have the words for it, but you care about how I show up in the world. Sure, there are better ways, but let me not clutch my pearls too tightly to not recognize how roasting can be an act of closeness and care.
We have to roast ourselves sometimes. Even Kordell tells Serena, “I appreciate you for getting me right because I know I’m looking crazy.”
We need the ones who get us right. My only hope is we can learn to tend without tearing down. I want us to grow without diminishing who we are.
Because I know I’m looking crazy, and I know there will be a time when you do, too. But such is life as we grow closer and our hair grows longer.
In college, I got tired of the sharp lines I could never live up to and decided to grow my hair out. Childish Gambino had recently released Because the Internet where he’s pictured on the cover with a baby afro, and I wanted that. But I didn’t know about all the awkward phases on the way there. Those unsatisfying points on the journey of growing your hair out.
I went a year without a haircut. The first few months were the worst because it looked like I needed a haircut. Just some tight curls and rough edges. But around the fourth or fifth month, it started looking like an afro. Even without much picking, my hair stood tall. And eventually, it got long enough that I wanted to try twisting it.
I sat on the floor as my mom smothered strands of my hair with gel and twisted each part. I nearly crashed out when I looked in the mirror. I hated it. But I was even more horrified when I went to go wash my hair and the gel wouldn’t rinse out. I thought I had ruined my hair for good. My mom helped me through it.
The first verse of “head.rap” is about the people who helped Saba along his loc journey, specifically his grandmother. Saba raps:
“She looked at me like, she love the nappy boy
'Fro press down like a tabloid
Searchin' for an avenuе, ways to reflect my current attitudе
Views of the world, I'm Malik to my Grandma
Who used to braid my hair, but I had to cut 'em at the school”
Black hair is intimate. An acknowledgment that we need each other.
Mom’s fingers twisted my hair. Saba’s grandmother braided his. And Kordell needed Serena to do his hair.
Although the result might not be permanent, we’re held by people who make us feel like ourselves. They love us at our nappiest and remain with us along the journey.
As I write this, I see a picture of my Grandma Gwen and notice our fros weren’t all that different. I know I come from love. And it is love that continues to see me through.
When Serena takes Kordell’s head in her hands and kisses him, I smile at how I hope their love continues to grow.
“You keep growin’ your garden,” Jordan Ward sings. And as I instruct my little brother on how to put berries and juices in his hair, I place his durag on mine.
Couple of babies who done start they journey anew
I'm rootin' for you, we can start at the root
Let’s see where love takes us.
Keep growing your garden.
Thank you!
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Alex, you’re so gifted - hot damn. Everytime I read your essays I understand why you call your publication “Feels like Home.” Your work is something not only to be read, but felt. Thank you for gifting us, and letting us in.
The old family photo and seeing the men before you have similar hairlines is powerful!!! Thanks for being vulnerable fam, this one was special.