Having hair clipped short and a toddler strapped to my front gives me the impression that I can move among any people and be socially accepted. The short hair cut is like camoflauge: I can be hip-hop, good ol' boy, arty hipster, young professional (or.. maybe not). Having a toddler brings smiles from people in most any location I have passed through, at least among most women. Especially in some Baltimore neighborhoods where fathers and toddlers are not the most common site, it can feel like serving as a vessel for the spread of benevolence over urban guardedness. I didn't get as many obvious smiles when I had proto-dreadlocks for most of the past 6 weeks. It's amazing how much feelings about one's hair can affect social perceptions. My motivations in cultivating dreadlocks had a lot to do with starting a new chapter as a stay-at-home dad outside the system. I had an image of how they would look and feel when fully formed, and expected that it would remind me of a commitment to live a natural and healthful lifestyle, symbolizing a spiritual allegiance to consciousness above social norms. And looking cool. Unfortunately, I hadn't stocked up on scalp-friendly dread shampoo during the early stages of forming the dreads, and put my scalp through some itchy abuse while using regular bar soap. It was time to say goodbye to the experience of panhandlers in the Inner Harbor addressing me as "Knotty" and "Dread", in recognition of my hippie guilt. This past week, Mila got to watch me clip them off my head one hot afternoon, and didn't seem to really see me any differently. Well, my head feels a lot cooler. No regrets here.
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