Trying To Walk In Beauty

I remember when my late uncle would tell my mom to dye my hair because my hair was the color of the tree bark that grew outside our hogan. He would tell her that by the time I turned 20 years old, my hair would turn completely white. What was funny back then now brings tears to my eyes because it still hurts me on the inside. At times, he would pick on me to my face to the point of me crying and my mom trying to defend me against her older brother. If he could see me now, he would have to take back everything he ever said about the color of my hair.

Personally, I always felt like a chameleon because the color of my skin and the color of my hair would change depending on which season I was in. My hair was lighter during the summer months than the winter months. And my skin was darker in the summer months and lighter in the winter months. I am sure there are people out there just like me, those whose hair and skin acclimates to the seasons.