The Truth of the Easter Bunny

When I was younger, I believed every word  my parents told me and never questioned them.  Now when I say I believed everything they told me, I mean everything from eating carrots to make my eye sight better, to a large over weight jolly man who slides down the chimney, eats some cookies, drinks some milk, and leaves me gifts for being a good girl.  My parents brought me up to be obedient and to listen.  Anytime I was disobedient, I would be sent to sit on the stair case for hours on end.  One time, I not so sneakily stole a cookie before dinner and was sent to the stairs for what felt like an eternity.  I decided from that point on that I would never put myself through that kind of torture again.  So when they told me that every year around April, we celebrate Easter and that means that the Easter Bunny visits our home and leaves Easter baskets, full of chocolate and jelly beans and toys, I believed them.  But I was a curious child and always needed to know why.  

I remember asking my mother, "Mom, how does a bunny carry baskets and get into our house without a key?"  She looked at me and said, "Well Elena, the Easter Bunny is a special bunny.  He is larger than most bunnies and has been trained to carry baskets.  He doesn't need a key because just like Santa, he always finds his way into the house." That still didn't make sense to me so I said "But how mom? We have an alarm, won't that go off when he comes in?" I will always remember her response.  She said "No, the Easter Bunny is not a bad guy and the alarm protects us from bad guys."  I looked at her and said, "Oh OK, that makes sense.  The Easter Bunny is really good and brings us presents."  That was the end of that discussion.

From Wikipedia

Anytime I saw a bunny from that point on, that bunny symbolized Easter and chocolate and egg hunts.  I would even feel sorry for that bunny because I saw how small it was and knew it would never be big enough to be the Easter Bunny.  I found myself feeling sad for every bunny I saw, not realizing that no one else felt that way.  To anyone else looking at that bunny, they saw a cute, fluffy rabbit.  It's no surprise that when I finally learned that my parents were in fact the "Easter Bunny", I was crushed and confused.  You mean to tell me that all these years I ACTUALLY BELIEVED that a fluffy bunny came into my home, carrying baskets, and left presents?  What was I thinking?

That experience taught me that other people have the ability to sway a person's interpretation of a symbol.  Especially if it is a parental figure, someone who plays such a strong role in your life and who dictates to you right from wrong.  A symbol can have multiple interpretations, it all just depends on who is providing the interpretation.  That is the beauty of it.  My parents let me believe that every bunny was the Easter Bunny because if they tried to convince me otherwise, their story of the Easter Bunny would unravel and they would be exposed.  To be honest, of all the stories my parents told me when I was little, this is the one I wish was true.

Curl Coveters:Tales from the Fro

People often mistake my Afro for a petting zoo. They poke, pull, prod, and pat my dense curls in hopes of understanding just what makes my head of hair so darn curly. For 21 years I’ve struggled to make sense of the science behind each one of my tiny curls…and I finally feel as though I’ve broken some new ground.  In the last two years, I’ve had an ongoing epiphany that led me to change the way I was living. Instead of constantly struggling to smooth my curls into flat, slick tresses, I decided to embrace the unknown and LEARN to tame the curly beast inhabiting my scalp.

For most of my life always, I placed my hair in the driver’s seat…allowing it to dictate my look of the day and feeling of the moment.  This drove me to the brink of insanity, since I saw long flowing locks as THE symbol of beauty. Realizing that hair length is a choice, the majority of the time, still wasn’t enough to shift my perspective that long, straight hair was a reflection of beauty.

People view their hair as their crowns of glory, and for women this crown is socially accepted as beautiful it is long, thick and reminiscent of an Herbal Essences ad. Since every aspect of your outer appearance is an expression of your character…your physicality’s a mere extension of your personality; it was truly important for me to find a hairstyle that I felt suited my personality.

In the late 60’s and early 70’s American society became entrenched in hippie lifestyle, bohemian chic attire, and the “black power” movement. Films from this era commonly depicted African Americans associated with this movement sporting large picked out Afro hair styles, wide leg bell bottoms, and brandishing the infamous black power fist. Flaunting a huge Afro during this time was a representation of ethnic pride and strength through diversity.

Now that brief history lesson may seem out of place in this discussion, but it really plays a large part in how my hair is interpreted in society and pop culture. I overheard a friend sharing their feelings about natural hair on black women, which is what prompted this blog topic. She said she loved the look of Afros, and wished that she could have hair that “looked like that.” When I questioned her further about her tendency to covet curls, she said that she felt that it showed strength and confidence in a woman who chooses to wear her hair in an Afro.

This was an interesting and new interpretation of what my hair symbolized for someone else. I had never thought about wearing my curly fro while exuding an air of confidence, but that’s because I spent all of my brainpower wishing it looked different!  Which is the exact opposite of confidence! Funny. To think about all of the time I spent in front mirrors hoping to just look “ok” when others thought I was walking with my head held high.

To bring this story full circle: symbols are slaves to interpretation.  The only way to give a symbol any meaning or power is become the interpreter. I thought my hair was the foundation of my “womanly beauty” thus allowing my hair to interpret my level of confidence. What I didn’t realize was that the world around me was choosing to view my hair as a mere extension of the confidence and beauty I already possessed. 

Cultural Pride or Racial Oppression?

     When I was younger, my older sister’s boyfriend (at the time) temporarily moved into my mother’s home; however, he didn’t only bless us with his presence. Along with him came his possessions, one of which caused controversy in our household. I recall waking up to my oldest brother shouting about racism, accusing my sister’s boyfriend of a being racist because of the Confederate flag.  Why? Wasn’t this flag a symbol of culture, a historical symbol of Southern heritage? Why was my brother so offended? Did the fact that this man included this flag in his luggage mean we invited racism into our home? In this personal experience, Foster couldn’t be more correct when he writes about individual histories and racial backgrounds influencing the interpretations of symbolism.

     Internet research was required on my part in order to understand if this flag was truly a symbol of cultural pride or racial oppression. Slavery was undoubtedly the driving force behind the succession of the Confederate States, but perhaps we have to step into the “mind of the times” to realize there might be more to it than that. It was also a matter of economic disagreements and violation of state’s rights, a dividing line of exactly how much control the federal government had over individual states. Provided these issues all surrounded around the subject of slavery, which, of course, is prejudice in nature.

     Depending on the viewer, this flag can have completely different meanings. My sister’s boyfriend (at the time) was Caucasian, while my oldest brother is of mixed-races. Although both were raised in the South, it is possible that my sister’s boyfriend had closer connections to his geographical heritage. However, in my opinion, individual histories and racial backgrounds are the ultimate factors which color one’s interpretation in this situation.

     The debate over what the Confederate flag symbolizes is still a controversial issue in today’s society, and many have moved for it to be banned in their communities. Students have been sent home from school for wearing shirts with similar designs, and some courthouses have removed the flag from the interior to the outdoors as a means of negotiation. Although I do not have a particularly strong opinion in this matter, I find it to be an irrational thought or hope that the flag can ever be stripped of the negative associations attached to it. Even if it is a symbol of cultural pride, the culture in which it takes pride in was one engrossed in bigotry. Regardless, what the flag symbolizes is a matter of perspective.