“So, why didn’t you re-dye your hair before Rush?”
I don’t remember the name of the girl who asked me that. Nor do I remember the letters she wore. With the chaos of rush week and the whirlwind of excitement that followed, many details of those days escape me. But I cannot forget the tone of voice she used. Curiosity masking a small amount of condescension.
In the days leading up to formal recruitment, every girl prepares to look their best. For some, this means getting a spray tan, a facial, or their teeth whitened. Nearly everyone will get their nails done, and spend hours carefully planning each outfit. For me, that preparation did include re-dying my hair: a rosy pastel pink.
Earlier that summer, after many years of strict high school dress codes, I made the leap and turned my normally bronze curls a bright fuschia. It was only during the process that my mom turned to me and asked, “What are you going to do during Rush?” I didn’t panic, rather assuring her that Rush wasn’t until mid-October, surely the dye would fade out by then, even though I had no intention of letting it do so. I had wanted pink hair for years, and I knew that if a sorority was truly my home: they would accept me no matter what color my hair was. In the end, I ended up running home to Theta- with my cotton candy curls flying behind me.
With my hair finally back to its natural hue, I’m thinking of new colors to try in the future. As Jenna Marbles says, “Life’s too short not to have really exciting hair.”
Unfortunately, not everyone agrees. In fact, most people think of body modifications like colored hair, tattoos, or piercings as “unprofessional” at best or “trashy” at worst. This perception is deeply rooted in our culture and begins as early as childhood. Growing up, seeing a character with piercings, tattoos or a mohawk was an automatic cue for the bad guy or the outcast.
What frustrates me most about the “unprofessional” argument is its complete fragility. There are very few careers where having body modifications would actually prevent you from doing your job. For example, a pro-wrestler is unlikely to have large gauges. A surgeon would probably not have long, incredibly detailed nails like these. And while such situations would limit an individual, it is solely based on practicality. Most of the time, the ban on tattoos and other modifications in the workplace is purely a matter of preference and social perception.
In reality, tattoos, piercings, and colored hair do nothing to prevent an individual from performing their job. But society is hardwired to see these forms of personal expression as a sign of being uneducated as if the choice to get tattoos or color your hair removes the years of hard work and study. Personally, I do not understand how having colored hair would prevent a nurse from helping their patients or how a politician's piercings could invalidate their policies. Are the smiles a teacher coaxes from her students any less genuine when you notice the semicolon tattoo on her wrist?
Humans are inherently stubborn and strangely sentimental. We jump out of planes and swim with sharks and propose to our soul mates- just for the satisfaction. Just for the rush of adrenaline and the picture to show everyone so we can say “Yeah, I did that.” But sometimes, that isn’t enough. Sometimes we choose to endure great pain, an action that directly goes against our evolutionary instincts, in order to immortalize a moment or symbol on our bodies forever. We carry these symbols with us, and display them to the world to say, “This thing is so powerful, and I made it a part of me.”
Even now, I can still see my old Girl Scout troop leader; she carries a pink ribbon on her ankle, for the moments she needs to be that survivor again. I remember seeing it, and imagining the trials and triumphs I would one day engrave on my skin. Our bodies are one of the few things we take with us to the grave. They are our canvases to express that which is often too hard to put into words.
Did my pink hair limit my possibilities for Rush? It’s possible. Will my future tattoos prevent me from earning my Ph.D. or telling a family that there is hope for their child? I truly hope not. When it comes to this nonsensical, horrible, beautiful world: it is the work we do that makes a difference- not how we look when we do it.
