As I walked down the sidewalk, I am greeted by the kids I sit for weekly. I see happy skips and smiles that jump on me without warning, and the bluest eyes I have ever seen on a child look up at me. He says, “your hair looks so handsome!” I had decided to cut my hair to a pixie about a year ago, and can safely say that's the best comment I’ve received since.
Sitting in the “stretching circle” on the floor of the gym I coach at, one of my girls looked at my freshly dyed blonde hair that was once orange. She said, “Your hair!” Knowing I would be met with true honesty from a four year old, I asked what she thought. She responded with, “You are so beautiful!” The same look I saw in those blue eyes, showed up again in a pair of brown.
The next week working a birthday party at the same gym, I was surrounded by a bunch of African American girls who kept pulling at my short hair. They were priding themselves on how long theirs was compared to mine. One of the girls stated how, “we all have such beautiful hair, but look how long mine is!” And again I saw that look.
I have worked with children since I was one, and I have yet to discover at what age that look goes away. The look of curiosity that makes the boy ask “why” after every sentence. The look that follows his finger as he traces his skin making the statement that he is white, but then looks up to ask me what color I am, even though I look just like him. The look that makes hair length a competition, and change beautiful, whether I can really pull off blonde or not. I don’t know if the lesson of life is four year olds rock, and after that life makes you mean, but I know I want to be four again. I want to go back to a world that was untouchable, and everyone was considered a friend. Where everything was a competition and no one really lost. I want to live in a world that looks as new and beautiful as it does to a four year old. I want to see a world where there is no more hate, just love and “the look”.
