This piece is specifically about my mother’s and I’s relationship and how she has always taken care of my hair. More specifically, how she taught me to take care of my hair. Through being adopted by a white family there have been a lot of trial and error in terms of how I or someone else has cared for my hair. Some incidents include me picking out half of my hair when I was about eight years old, catching my hair on fire, wanting bangs, cutting my hair incorrectly, and salons burning my curls. This piece is not only depicting how my mother has cared for my hair, but it is also depicting a story of how I came to be adopted. Within the background of the piece there is a hidden text from a poem my mother wrote to me on my 18th birthday, describing the joy of adopting me