5 posts tagged “a good cause”
Last night I dreamed I cut my hair. I didn't put it in a ponytail first. I didn't measure it. I didn't even use a mirror. I just hacked it all off, gathered it into a bundle, and hoped it would be long enough to donate.
I have no idea why I was so impatient in this dream, for I've become rather fond of my long hair since my last update. I still wear a ponytail several times a week, but lately (as I've gotten used to a feeling I can only describe as wearing a scarf in the summertime) I actually prefer to leave it down.
Overall, having hair this long for the first time since the sixth grade has been a surprisingly pleasant experience: I'd forgotten how good it feels when it brushes against my bare arms, and I love it when Mr. Guycita runs his fingers through it (not that he does this often enough for my tastes!). So each time I try to estimate when my hair will be ready for the Big Cut, I am increasingly loath to give up the new inches of growth.
Don't get me wrong—I still plan on donating it. It just might take me a little longer to decide that I'm ready to part with it.
My grandma in Peru was admitted to the hospital again last week. It turned out that her hemoglobin was low, and the doctors had to pump her with two units of blood. The weird thing is that the hospital required the family to replace that blood within 24 hours! I asked one of my cousins whether she or anyone else in the family planned to be one of the donors, and she said that she'd convinced two of her friends to donate instead.
I was disappointed that my family members declined to give their own blood to replenish the supplies my abuelita used. But I was also not that surprised—my family in Peru has some strange ideas about blood donation. For example, one of my aunts has assured me that I won't be able to bear children if I donate blood. (I hope to prove her wrong someday!) Another aunt told my cousins that they aren't eligible to donate because, basically, they have allergies. (Again, not true!)
The whole situation made me want to go out and give a unit of my blood in protest, so today I did just that. I'm now on my way to earning my 2-gallon pin, and I don't regret a single pint.
If you meet the eligibility requirements and aren't already a blood donor, please consider becoming one. For the price of a tiny pinprick, you have the potential to save someone's life. And if you ever find yourself on the receiving end of donated blood, be thankful that you live in a country that doesn't require you to give back that blood!
A few months ago, I read about a nonprofit organization called Bound 4 Freedom. Founded by some young women at my alma mater, the group makes and sells handmade journals. Their goal is to enable women to help themselves (by developing the skills to make and sell journals) and each other (by helping to produce journals during volunteer studio hours to fund the program).
The Bound 4 Freedom story made me want to purchase one of these journals, so Lindsay (who goes to church with the B4F gals) recently offered to pick one up for me. When I saw the journal she selected, I was so impressed that I decided to see just how these journals are made. Lindsay told me that studio hours are held twice a week in a classroom in her church, and she offered to accompany me to a session.
When we showed up, the B4F folks were super welcoming, and Lindsay and I were immediately assigned to poke holes in paper. I learned how to properly position the holes in the creases of paper that had been previously cut to size and folded in groups of five sheets (aka signatures). It took me a few rounds to get the hang of poking the holes (and then stacking the papers in a consistent direction so that the holes were lined up), but I was soon zipping along like a pro (well, almost).
After the paper was ready, we had to poke holes in the handmade covers. Once this was done, we took a certain number of signatures and sandwiched them between the covers, using a precise amount of twine to keep it all together (and making sure all those holes were properly aligned). I think I made four packets in under two hours, which I don't think is too bad for a first timer!
Since I was a newbie, this was as far as I went in the journal-making process. Veteran journal-makers, however, will take the journal packets made by volunteers and sew the binding to complete the journal. They will then use mostly recycled materials (including paper, fabric, ribbon, wallpaper, and buttons) to create a unique design on each cover.
The B4F folks are enthusiastic about their mission, and it shows in the beautiful and creative journals they produce (you can check out a bunch of examples in their online store). I had a great time volunteering and hope to do it again soon!
Earlier this week, I dreamed that I cut off my hair before reaching my goal. In the dream, I was horrified that I'd wasted all that time growing it out for nothing. When I woke up, I was so relieved that I wasn't going to have to tell everyone what I'd done.
I suppose it's not surprising that I would start to dream about cutting off my hair. In the past few weeks, with the oppressive summer heat in full force, I've found it nearly unbearable to wear my hair down. In fact, most mornings when I am getting ready, I automatically default to a ponytail, just so that I don't sweat off my makeup before leaving the house.
But in the last week or so, my hair has gotten long enough to still make my neck hot, even when it's in a ponytail. So this morning, I finally decided to experiment with a new 'do, one that would hopefully keep my hair off my neck.
Although clips won't usually hold my hair, I found one made by Goody that claims it's made especially for "thick hair" (and if anyone has thick hair, I do). I was skeptical, but my tiny grain of faith was rewarded: The clip works, even without using a mirror (see photo at right)!
Now I feel like I will at least have options (ponytail versus clip) when I fix my hair in the morning. By my estimate, I still have 6 to 8 months to go until the Big Cut—unless I give up before then and decide that I'm okay with a Becky Conner hairstyle.
My late grandmother believed that "if a woman has long hair, it is a glory to her." To cut that hair was, therefore, nothing short of a sin. If that's true, I've been sinning every 4 to 6 weeks for as long as I can remember. In fact, I've always been rather schizophrenic about the length of my hair, growing it out and chopping it off in a vicious cycle that has exasperated my mother, my hairdressers, and Mr. Guycita alike. Sometime after Mr. Guycita's mom was diagnosed with breast cancer, however, I began to realize how lucky I am to have the luxury of discarding my healthy hair at will. That's why I am currently in the midst of a marathon growing session (15 months and counting). My goal is to grow my hair long enough to comfortably donate an 8-inch-or-longer chunk of it to the Beautiful Lengths campaign. My severed ponytail will then be used to make a wig for a woman who's lost her own hair to chemotherapy. I like to think that Grandma would have approved—in spite of her beliefs.
