A Man’s Perspective
As a Chinese boy being raised by a conservative mother, I had two options at the barber shop: short or shorter. If I argue hard enough, I earned a third option – bald. My mother, like many Chinese mothers, views long hair on a man as a symbol of delinquency and forbade me from letting my hair grow pass my ear. As a kid, the limited hair style was of little consequence to me besides the annoyance and foolish look of a few strands of hair that persistently stand upright despite my best efforts to keep it down. In times of indolence, I would leave the house without combing my hair and sport what my friends endearingly called the Asian fro – imagine every strand of hair, without exception, extending perpendicular and perfectly straight from the scalp. As I grew older, the restrictions placed on my appearance became more significant. It became an idea that I disagreed with. If it is not right to judge a person by the color of their skin, why is it acceptable to judge a person by other aspects of their appearance? After all, I was taught from an early age to never judge a book by its cover. While long hair as a symbol of delinquency may be an Asian construct, the association of appearance and character is not. Professionalism in the US carries its own set of guidelines for the appearance of a man: groomed short hair, sport coat, solid color button down shirt, tie, well fitted pants, and shiny leather shoes. The idea that how we look is proportional to how well we perform our job seems illogical to me.
Entering Bowdoin in 2007 on the pre-med track, I decided to let my hair grow. I wanted to challenge people’s views of what an intellectual pre-professional should look like. Of course my mother disapproved of this motion so the decision to let my hair grow took on a second significance. To a lesser degree, letting my hair grow was a way for me to claim my freedom and independence from my mother; it is my hair and I should be able to do what I want with it. To which my mother retorted, “It is my money and I should be able to do what I want with it.”
I experimented with different styles of long hair, occasionally cutting my hair when my mother asked me to. Appeasing her was a desirable side effect to true intent of trying a new style of hair. The waltz of growing, experimenting, and cutting continued throughout freshman and sophomore year until I settled on my current style; two distinct locks of hair on the back of my head growing indefinitely while the rest of my hair changes in style and length. The original idea was to braid each lock, but that became too time consuming and laborious. In my experimentation of hair styles, I found many undesirable consequences of long hair that I did not consider before my decision. The time, effort and product I put into tending my hair grew as the hair itself grew. The majority of my morning is consumed by caring for my hair. Extra care is required when working in a lab with hazardous chemicals. It would please no one, if I were to contract the chemicals onto my hair and bring it with me as I leave the lab. While my hair can flow like a stream when I move against the wind, it becomes belligerent and crawls over my face if I were to go in any other direction. This unruly behavior becomes cumbersome when I am doing anything that requires my vision such as playing sports or walking. These by-products of long hair are annoying, but not impossible to deal with. So far, I have found simple solutions to the many problems concerning my hair. Waking up a few minutes earlier gives me sufficient time to prepare for the day; a hair-tie keeps my hair out of the chemicals; and a bandana or a hat keeps my hair out of my face. All of the minor annoyances are a small price to pay for the benefits of long hair; ridding me of the ridiculous Asian fro and asserting that my appearance does not determine who I am or what I am capable of accomplishing.
