Looking at it for the last time in a high school bathroom mirror, my long, honey-brown hair fell softly on my shoulders. I shuddered when I thought that, in less than an hour, it would be gone. I, the person who always wants to blend into the crowd, is making myself stick out. I will be left vulnerable to the stares of everyone. My protective shield would be shaved away, leaving me defenseless to the world. I looked in the mirror one last time, trying to push my doubts away. “I can do this. It’s only hair,” I thought to myself. I walked out to the busy hallway to find my friends and family waiting for me. As I approached them, I passed a sign that wrote with bold letters, “St. Baldrick’s Foundation.” After seeing those words, I knew why I chose to do this: for those who didn’t have a choice. I knew I had to remove my shield.
Before I realized I was caught up in the excitement, we headed for the gymnasium. Looking around, I could see bald heads and scattered hair. My palms became moist after seeing the scattered, forgotten hair, the wind making it into tumbleweeds. My stomach dropped as I realized that, soon, my hair would be left as a memory on the floor and my head would match those of all the others filling the room.
Waiting in line, I witnessed people cry, laugh and smile when their shields were shaved away. A little girl, who had long blonde hair, was ahead of me sitting on a chair. As the hairdresser turned the clippers towards the girl and she heard the buzz of the razor, she erupted in tears. Her tear-streaked face glistened with an angelic shimmer against the florescent lights, but she fought through her fear and did it. When it was all done, she reached up and touched her shaved head and a beautiful smile erupted on her still tear-streaked face, creating a beauty rarely seen: bravery. Her beauty had a domino effect in the crowded room as people were immediately walking taller and their smiles were wider.
As the hairdresser looked my way, I knew that it was my turn to sit in the chair. I walked toward the chair as if walking in a tunnel. Every sound disappeared and every person became a shadow. It was just me, my thumping heartbeat, the tunnel and that menacing chair. The tunnel broke when I heard the harsh sound of the razor, buzzing away my shield of protection. I felt something graze my cheek. I looked down to see what once was on my head now lay on my lap. My shield was gone.
I looked at myself in a cloudy, hand-held mirror, seeing a few scars and a strange birthmark. My face had a glow I’d never seen before. I couldn’t stop smiling at my reflection.
