Learning experiences

I'm lucky enough to live in a city, and in surroundings, that are mostly very accepting of different cultures and creeds. I sometimes get a comment or a second look but usually it's positive. My family are all so accepting, I swear I could tattoo and pierce the whole of my body and put my hair into 10ft spikes and no one would bat an eyelid, they love me unconditionally.

I did it for me, and in that respect I've learnt just how little some peoples opinions matter to me, I thought I would be affected by negativity but if anything I've found it's made me stronger and prouder

 

Its funny travelling through Mexico right now in a van full of three dogs four dready kids. Everyone here thinks we have sh·tloads of weed. There aren`t many dreadies around, little kids wanna touch them, people comment on them all the time, mostly positve. We crossed two borders, into the states and into Mexico with nada problemos. The Mexico border was like a turnstyle, and into the states they just ran our ID. We`ve surrounded oursleves with magic and made the borders smoooth, either that or we happened to get nice people working that day.
Because I surround myself with positivity and smiliness most people respond to me in exactly the same way. I have had some pretty weird questions like, "Don`t they get bugs easy? Don`t they smell or mould?" But I know these questions come from ignorance rather than meanness. When I live somewhere its usually in a place with a high concentration of dreadies and freaks so I haven`t had problems renting a place. Lovin you guys

 

I love having my dreads. Like other people have said, before i had them i was just a normal person that blended in with everyone. Then over the summer I came back to school with dreads, and I realized people started to notice me more. I didnt really change my personality besides becoming more laid back, im not a loud person so i didnt do anything to draw attention to me, but i guess my dreads did that for me.
-I learned that I can be who i want to be, and people will still talk to me and i will still get new friends, ill still get boyfriends. its almost easier to make new friends with dreads for me, idk why.
Maybe they make me seem like i have more confidence in myself. How i dont really care for my hair, i dont straighten it, or dye it, or cut it, or make it look perfect everyday. maybe people just see that as not high matenience (sp?) and are attracted to people like that.
- when i got my lisence, the first thing the guy who was giving me the test said to me was "I love the hair!!!" he was a black guy, i dont think he was from jamaica tho, but through the whole test we just talked about my hair, and how most white and black people react different. He made the test so much less nerve recking for me and im so glad i had my dreads when i went. It was a good experience haha.
- I also notice that with my dreads, people seem to be able to talk to me easier. I guess they look at me and think, ' hey she must be a nice person' haha i like it tho. dreadheads are all unique, and therefore we stick out more than anyone else. we have something that is rare. not a lot of people have dreads, and sometimes that scares people away, but then that just means that fate drew them away and u wernt ment to be friends with that person anyways.
peace~

 

LoL, I love reading these little bursts of stories... I cant wait, to see what going to happen when my hair start looking like dreads...

Forest420 you got me thinking of the materialist philosopher JJC Smart... Bah... i'll explain it later, i need to read it more indepth... peace

 

Forest420 hit it on the nail pretty much..they give me a confidence and a feeling i cant describe that wasnt there before.

 

That's cool.

Believe me, when I went through the border in Canada, I had a great attitude. Maybe too happy.

I had just been working at a hemp festival in the Kootenays. I was getting a ride with a reggae band from Colorado back into the US, to Oregon. The funny thing was, they were all so nervous to cross the border with a converted tour bus full of dreadies, that they had me walk over the border and we agreed to meet on the other side.

Well, customs waved that whole bus of dreadlocked rastas through. Not me, though. They searched my pockets. I had some literature from the festival about hemp in one of my pockets. I did not realize that folded up in that paper were some hemp seeds. So, the customs ladies asked me what those were. I cheerfully and enthusiastically replied, "Those are hemp seeds. They're very nutritious!"

"Hemp?"

"Yes, hemp! Hemp is a wonderful plant. It can be used to make fabric, paper, and food without depleting the forests. It can be used to make fuel and as a medicine. Hemp is such a versitile plant."

"We're going to need to keep this literature."

"Go right ahead. You should read it if you get a chance. It's full of interesting information." Then they searched me thoroughly. They confiscated my dried papaya because they didn't believe it was food. They said they weren't sure if it was drugs. I swear. They tore open my sleeping bag looking for drugs. But I had faith and a positive attitude, so I just stayed strong.

So they put me in a little cell with a metal bench in it and searched me and ran my ID. They accused me of giving them a fake ID since my name is so freaking weird. They checked to see if I had any warrants. I didn't. They called their supervisor, in the middle of the night, to ask him if they should detain me for the hemp seeds. He said no and they argued with him about it. I prayed. He still said no. They were not pleased.

So after about 2 hours or so, they let me gather up my shredded sleeping bag and my belongings and I'm just about to walk out the door, when a guy from the reggae band struts in. "Sistren, what's the hold up? Is babylong giving you a hard time?"

Well, if he had just waited one more minute he could have avoided so much trouble. He didn't know that, though. Now theyr an him through and made him pay some stupid fine for something.

But in the end we all got to leave and I like to think that I educated those customs officials about hemp. It's good for food, fuel, and fiber!

 

That's cool.

Believe me, when I went through the border in Canada, I had a great attitude. Maybe too happy.

I had just been working at a hemp festival in the Kootenays. I was getting a ride with a reggae band from Colorado back into the US, to Oregon. The funny thing was, they were all so nervous to cross the border with a converted tour bus full of dreadies, that they had me walk over the border and we agreed to meet on the other side.

Well, customs waved that whole bus of dreadlocked rastas through. Not me, though. They searched my pockets. I had some literature from the festival about hemp in one of my pockets. I did not realize that folded up in that paper were some hemp seeds. So, the customs ladies asked me what those were. I cheerfully and enthusiastically replied, "Those are hemp seeds. They're very nutritious!"

"Hemp?"

"Yes, hemp! Hemp is a wonderful plant. It can be used to make fabric, paper, and food without depleting the forests. It can be used to make fuel and as a medicine. Hemp is such a versitile plant."

"We're going to need to keep this literature."

"Go right ahead. You should read it if you get a chance. It's full of interesting information." Then they searched me thoroughly. They confiscated my dried papaya because they didn't believe it was food. They said they weren't sure if it was drugs. I swear. They tore open my sleeping bag looking for drugs. But I had faith and a positive attitude, so I just stayed strong.

So they put me in a little cell with a metal bench in it and searched me and ran my ID. They accused me of giving them a fake ID since my name is so freaking weird. They checked to see if I had any warrants. I didn't. They called their supervisor, in the middle of the night, to ask him if they should detain me for the hemp seeds. He said no and they argued with him about it. I prayed. He still said no. They were not pleased.

So after about 2 hours or so, they let me gather up my shredded sleeping bag and my belongings and I'm just about to walk out the door, when a guy from the reggae band struts in. "Sistren, what's the hold up? Is babylong giving you a hard time?"

Well, if he had just waited one more minute he could have avoided so much trouble. He didn't know that, though. Now they ran him through and made him pay some stupid fine for something.

But in the end we all got to leave and I like to think that I educated those customs officials about hemp. It's good for food, fuel, and fiber!

 

What has being a dready taught me?

It's taught me humility, it has taught me patience, it has taught me to not take things so seriously.

I was always different...dressed different, acted different, talked different...and one day I just said, screw it. Why did I do it? I don't know...my soul just told me I had to. So I stopped brushing it and conditioning it...and let it go on its own journey.

It is who I am now...I think when it's time to cut them off, I will be ready, but sad.

 

Levi....whoah harsh. Yeah my boy chopped his waist length locks off about a year ago but before that he had lots and lots of hassles at the border....I think theyre more looking for terrorists than drugs now