|Introduce yourself: (Name, age, location, what you do) share as much as you feel comfortable with.*|
|Norris Francois, a student of Photography, Film, Writing, Philosophy, Sarcasm, Economics, and anything else he can get his hands onto resides on an island in the middle of the
Caribbean Sea called Dominica and aspires to become better than everyone
else at everything ever.
|What made you go natural? How long have you been natural?|
|I was in college and going through that typical rebellion phase and I wanted something different from my normal flat cut I’d had all my life.
|Describe your hair. (texture, behavior, thickness, etc)|
|I think I’m maybe a 4c..it’s mad thick and has no behavior.|
|What is your monthly routine for caring for your hair? (What products and practices do you use?)|
|Monthly is right. Once a month, I’ll untangle and plait for a week.
|What does being natural mean to you?|
|Being natural means that I don’t have to worry about my hair. I’m letting it do what it naturally wants to do.
|Do you use any heat on your hair? (Why or why not?)|
|I do not mainly because it goes against my hair philosophy
|Do you do any protective styling? If so how often and what are some of your favorite styles?|
|Cornrows and Double Strand Twists are the go-to for my monthly taming.
|What is the hardest part about being natural? What is your favorite thing about being natural?|
|The hardest part is having people tell me what to do with my hair and my favorite is how it looks.|
What is your favorite hairstyle?
|Afro bordering on dreads.
|Who is/are your hair crush(s)?|
|Kenny Knowles & Jean-Sebastien Pougnand
|Do you have any funny hair stories? What’s the most outrageous thing someone has said about your kinks?
|It was Wednesday the 13th of August 2014, and I was a younger more naive man. I was on a day trip to Scotts Head with a bus full of strangers to carry out an inspection of the converging Caribbean Sea and Atlantic ocean. I can only assume we were to ensure that they were both behaving and ‘playing nice.’
Some of the more committed members of the group went so far as to get into the water for closer inspection. Being the helpful and forward thinking young man I am, I decided to go get some fresh water in the village so they could wash off after. No, this decision had nothing to do with the bus driver seeing me lazing around and pretty much commanding me to do it.
Now, I’d never been to Scotts Head before, but I managed to find a upstanding citizen to ask the way.
“Hey, umm, I’m looking for a stand-pipe to fill these,” I said gesturing with the two empty Sunny D bottles.
Short, sweet and to the point.
After about a minute of going “in,” I approached the antagonists of this story. First, sitting on an old soda crate was the one I’ll refer to as Zeb Zagana. Somewhere, blended into the background, I’m assuming since I didn’t notice him was his muscle, George. Mr. Zagani and i happen to lock eyes and he instantly launches his plan. “Yo, where di zeb?” he says grinning slyly. I immediately go into Conversation Avoidal Mode, and use the old “shrug your shoulders and walk faster” trick. Zeb man over there doubts my knowledge of colloquialisms and assumes my shrugging meant I didn’t understand the question.
“Weed,” he says with the “you bloody idiot” implied.
All this took place while I was still walking away and right before I left earshot I heard him mutter something to he effect of “You doe know and you have a damn ruff-top on your head?”
Whatever. I ignore him and fill the bottles. Now, I believe there’s an old saying that goes, “what goes in must come out,” and that day it proved itself true, because against my will I found myself heading back in their direction to get back.
This time around I decide to use an experimental advanced version of the aforementioned Conversation Avoidal Mode. I focused straight ahead with a stern expression and walked even faster. It was then that I first saw George. He’d been having a (probably very shady) with an equally questionable gentleman, but as grew nearer I realized that he’d shifted his focus from the conversation to me.
“Boy, fix your face,” he jeered as I zoomed passed.
Now, thinking back, I probably should’ve been a bit more concerned at the fact that George had fully abandoned his friend and was gaining on me. I probably shouldn’t have obliged when Zeb tried to stop me again, but, as is universally known, I’m an idiot. It was something ridiculous, too. Something like: “Aye come awhile der…yo…sto-..lemme just ask you one question!” In my defense, I was in an unknown part of the island, surrounded by strange men and I figured it’d be in my best interest not to anger them any more.
“So, tell me. You does smoke?”
Obvious. Before I could answer, my pursuer had caught up to me and went on a tirade about how disrespectful it was to “walk through his village his my face ’so’,” and how it was a nice place and I should smile. He was obviously very hurt that I’d dishonored his community and I figured if I didn’t do something soon this could result to an outbreak of fisticuffs. I REALLY didn’t have the time for a 5v1 fight, so I explained to him that my face was born this way and ensured him that I’ll try better next time, and was on my way.
I then went home to tell my mommy this story and then I had to cut my hair.
|What is one piece of advice you have for other people who want to start embracing their kinks?|
|Do it. Do it now. Also, let your hair do it’s own thing a little.
|Do you have any sites or social media accounts you would like people to contact or follow you on?|