October 12, 1973

Dear Diary,

I got up early this morning so I could get ready.  My Afro is huge.  It’s so thick that the pick sticks in there with no problem.  This look is far out.

When I got to school, I saw Melanie standing by the stairs.  I sneaked up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.  She turned around and looked at me, then looked again, and laughed.  This is how our conversation went:

“What the hell is this?”

“It’s my new look, why?”

“You look like an Angela Davis wanna be.  What’s the trip?”

That’s when I started to get mad and was getting ready to walk away, then she said,

“Wait, I’m sorry.  I just don’t get it.  Why do you need to be someone you’re not?”

“How do you know who I’m supposed to be?”

That’s when I walked away.

The black kids accepted me right away.  I’m part of the African struggle now, and I have black power even though I’m not sure what that means.

Talk to ya later!