SHADY IS BACK: Black to yellow. A hair’s journey

I have black hair, just like most students at Saratoga High. So when I was asked by the Falcon Lifestyles editors to come up with something crazy to do and gauge people’s reactions, I thought it would be cool to dye my hair bright blond and see how others responded. 

Not my best idea.

First of all, the bleaching process was long and painful. The professional stylist at a salon in Los Gatos stuck a product in my hair that slowly stripped my hair’s color and made it a lot lighter. However, this process took a long time and the product burned my scalp. 

It took me over an hour to bleach my hair, and once done, I realized right away how stupid it looked. My hair was bright blond, which is not an especially good look on me (mostly because I did not dye my eyebrows, which remained black). 

Since I changed my hair color so radically, I stuck out like somebody who had decided that he was going to celebrate Halloween every single day. And because I tend to be somewhat reserved, talking to so many people about my hair was as enjoyable as explaining to my parents why I was doing this. On the first day with my blond hair, I was bombarded with questions, strange looks and laughter from both students and parents. 

With blond hair also came a variety of new nicknames, including Eminem, Slim Shady, illegally blond and, most of all, blondie. 

However, students were not the only ones judging from afar. Walking in downtown Saratoga, I could see every adult’s head swiveling to look at me as they drove by. It was pretty easy to guess that everyone who looked at me was thinking that I looked strange.

It’s amazing how others can make you feel so self-conscious just with their looks; it made me feel like going inside and hiding from people. 

After the first day, I did not feel like continuing the experiment. Still, I was determined to follow through with the blondeness for at least another day. At home, I encountered questions on how my day was from my family and, of course, more laughter. 

The second day was pretty similar to the first, except I was getting used to all of the laughing and looks that I was receiving. By the end of the week, I didn’t feel bothered at all. 

Despite all of the goofiness of my hair, there was a reason to this assignment. I wanted to see how people react to those who look different. 

My friends simply laughed at my hair, but people who didn’t know me reacted differently. I received disquieting looks when walking by students I didn’t know, and it made me feel like I was always being watched. This was probably because it is not often that people in Saratoga bleach their hair, so when I did it appeared very strange to most people.

Through this experience, I learned that appearances don’t necessarily define people. I learned that being the target of judgement — snap judgements based on appearances — is both real and painful. I learned that people can be defined by outer appearances, without regard for the actual person. 

Finally, I learned that I really don’t look good with blonde hair.