Paying for the Privilege

Questions my six-year-old son has been asked at the barbershop:

“You’re not scared of a little water, are you?”

“You need to be a man.  Are you a man or a little boy?”

“You have a girlfriend yet?  Come on, you must have a girlfriend … ”

I take my son to a barbershop because he is not particular about his hair, he just wants it out of his eyes.  He has been to three local barber shops and every time he’s gotten his hair cut, he’s also been draped in machismo bullshit.


I’m not having it anymore.

The ten dollars I save every six weeks is no longer worth my son’s discomfort.  I’m speaking with my dollar.  I’m voting with my money.

I’m paying his way out from under a detrimental influence.

I’m paying for the privilege to go elsewhere.

I’m paying for that privilege.

I’m privileged.


It dawns on me that escape is easy.  My stylist (Mike at Salon Helmet) is skilled and professional.  He also possesses a progressive attitude and gentle nature, so from now on I’m taking my son to him for a haircut.  He’s the kind of person I want influencing my children and because I have privilege, I don’t have to just want it, I can pay for it.

There.  I’ve fixed my problem.

Now it’s your problem.


Someone else’s problem.  There’s that privilege again.

I can’t very well leave it at that, can I?  I can’t just make my son’s world a better place.  I will not just cut and run. (Literally.)  I will strive to make your son’s world a better place too.  I’m going to contact these shops and lift up the drape.  Enough is enough and not just for some, but for every son.


3 thoughts on “Paying for the Privilege

  1. That makes me so sad for my sons and your son and all sons. I admire your resolve to do something. So much easier to just go somewhere else. Good story.


  2. Pingback: Divining Beauty | Black Panty Salvation

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