WINK AT IGNORANCE

The florescent lights above the stage flickered as I hid behind the red velvet curtains. The current running through the bulbs hummed and surged through me, hindering my ability to breathe.

In and out. In and out.

All the reasons why I shouldn't walk onto the stage to make my presentation battled around my mind, holding picket signs of protest. I never understood why public speaking was a requirement to graduate.

I recited my opening line until the words blurred and fear strangled me.

I tucked my hair behind my ear and pulled out a mirror from the depths of my pocket. The biracial woman staring back at me always doubted herself, with unruly hair and the ability to disappear in a room, she wondered if her presence mattered.

A memory surfaced through the picket line of my mind and trampled them like a herd of animals.

My aunt attended every birthday, every holiday and every dreaded school play. Aunt Vicky was a curvy woman with big hair and a huge smile. She didn't care what anyone thought. She went for her dreams. 

For my fifth grade play, which included a poorly written rip-off of The Wizard of Oz, they cast me as the Good Witch. Pink dress and all.

My class stood in the back of the community center as I waved my wand that my Dad hand made me.

"Ewe."

I stopped my twirl and glanced at Fernanda, who always looked like she had a lemon in her mouth. "Your hair is too big for that crown."

The gaggle of girls around her laughed and whispered about me. I pressed my palms against my eyes in an attempt to stop the tears. Aunt Vicky found me crying backstage minutes before the play started.

"What's wrong?" she squatted down beside me. Her big eyes searched my face for an answer while I replayed what happened.

"Hmm," she said softly, helping me up. She pulled out a mirror from her pocket and handed it to me. "Look at yourself," she said. I opened it and stared at my tear-streaked cheeks. "What do you see?"

I sniffled. "Me."

"Exactly," she said. "A beautiful little girl, with creamy caramel skin and big curly hair that's hers. Twirl for me."

I twirled. She gasped. "You look stunning. Here," she said, handing me my wand. "Don't listen to ugly people. You need to wink at ignorance. Cast that Wicked Witch out of Oz. You'll be the star of the show, big hair and all."

Her words pumped me up. "Yeah, big hair, don't care."

She left me with a huge smile.

"Hailey," someone said. "Hailey!"

I jerked out of my stupor and glanced at my professor. "You ready? Do you have your notecards?"

I glanced down at my notecards and handed them to her. "I don't need them." I shoved my mirror into my back pocket and walked proudly onto the stage.

It only took seconds to find her. She held a banner that read, Big Hair, Don't Care.