The Barbershop

Since I was a child, I was aware of the unique culture of the urban barbershop. Ever since my father took me to the closest barbershop that cut my type of hair (read: nappy) I've always had a sense of not belonging. It's funny that I felt this so young. I now know it's more a relationship between me and my blackness and the barbershop (or hair salon for the ladies) is one of the defining features of black culture in America.

Maybe it's because it relates to appearance, which is one of the few things that Black people are consistently proud of. Maybe it's because such a wide range of figures come through that one spot. The only other place that offers a comparable range is church and that's fraught with a lot of spoken and unspoken restrictions. The barbershop, just like the movie, is like a social center. Opinions discussed. Deals made. Even though I'm not the most comfortable, it's one of the trips I look forward to the most.

Today was no different. Sit down and just soak it in. As my own barber stopped at least 5 times to politic, whether live, or on his phone, you get an idea of survival. I know I'm probably making it more grandiose than it is but I really learn a lot about how people live sans college degree, amazing entertainment talent, trust fund, or superlative athletic ability. Take my barber Izzy for example. In previous conversations, I've learned that he tries to manage singers and producers. And many come through trying to hook things up. Another barber promotes parties. And I'm sure each of them has some (or many) side hustles. But their moxie is inspiring, just for the fact that I don't understand it yet they keep coming through.

Makes me think about how they accomplish so much with the little they got and I'm sitting pretty and letting it all slide. A change is in order. Sounds like a movie waiting to happen