Sturm und Drang: Hair, Community, Music

Amidst all the devastation of war, weather events and anxiety surrounding the upcoming US election, I remind everyone, including myself, to carefully regulate their news consumption. I for one, never, even in the best of times, indulge in TV or any news that has visuals. Even the famous George Floyd video, which haunts me sufficiently and readily, I have never seen with my own eyes. I have enough sleep issues as it is! One of the perks of being up in the wee hours, however, is that I discover wonderful resources I did not know about, as I did this morning. A BBC podcast called People Fixing the World. I for one was so famished for a “feel good” story that I did not even know it. Until I was surprised to hear one. I thought it was probably about time for a “feel good” (or at least partially so) blog from me. And I heard a wonderful and fascinating story which I share with you.

Kenya is a country of over 50 million people. They have had no shortage of trauma there and that is for sure. Noteworthy was the well-known terror attack of 2019 and some at least five years prior. Like much of Africa, it has been hit hard with the scourge of HIV and AIDS. And all the daily trauma and stress of poverty, other diseases, drought and floods. However, according to a 2021 report in the International Journal of Mental Health Systems, there are less than 500 trained mental health workers in the whole country: 54 psychiatrists; 418 trained psychiatric nurses (many of whom do not work in mental health) and about 12 neurologists, mostly in the big cities: Nairobi, Kisumu and Mombasa. Certainly not where all or even most of those in need are to be found.

Added to that, is the fact that culturally and particularly among men, most especially young men, talking about or even feeling and acknowledging to oneself feelings or mental/emotional difficulties is both foreign and certainly not taught or encouraged. And additionally, as in many other places there is stigma and shame about having problems or need. Probably even the very category of emotional or interpersonal need is beyond unfamiliar, most likely more on the order of unimaginable. So, you say, “You call this a ‘feel good’ story?!”

Hair

I do know the pleasure and even fun I experience when I go to have my hair done. And I grew up with among my many other woes, terrible distress about hair. Left to itself my hair is unspeakably curly frizzy and like a cyclone of unhealed trauma. It was historically uncontrollable and vicious, another lonely agony. Growing up in the sixties, our role models were not only weed thin but had beautiful long, blond and most of all gloriously straight hair, cascading down their shoulders and slender backs. Mine was everything but. And the few products available at that time, the historical Curl Free, for one, oy vey! They were painfully toxic and didn’t work anyway. I ironed my incorrigible hair, slept with orange juice can rollers, avoided getting a haircut at all costs, and every night prayed that I would miraculously wake up with straight hair – a prayer that miraculously was answered some forty years later.

Probably in the early 2000’s I met a woman on a bike ride who ultimately introduced me to the wonders of modern hair products. It goes to show that my Holocaust survivor dad was in fact right. We grew up hearing him say “You should always go to sold out concerts. You’ll get in!” Sometimes however, it takes a while. But I did get in!

My hair person now, who I consider one of my angels, is more like a friend, although she is young enough to be my granddaughter. My hair appointments are way too much fun, they feel much more like a date with a BFF. And we learn a ton from each other. The time flies, and the delight that we take in each other’s company occupies what may otherwise seem like a long and tedious process. I have heard from many a client of all genders, that for them also, hair appointments are a valued social time.

So now back to Kenya, and “fixing the world.” In Kenya, particularly men, find in their barber shop a gathering place where they can talk freely about sports, politics and in effect “let their hair down” so to speak. A brilliant Kenyan organization called “The Center” had the idea to train barbers in how to talk to their clients about mild to moderate mental health issues. In the barber shop showcased in this program, the clientele was the highly vulnerable population of young men, 19-30 years old.

The barbers were taught how to make open ended inquiries that in effect invited the young men to open up about their feelings, stresses and even problems. And amazingly they do. The young men quoted in the story described feeling comfort and ease talking with their barber. They expressed that they “trusted him.” And in the company of other young men, some of whom they may have even come to know, shame was diffused by camaraderie, identification and a feeling of community.

Even at the very, very beginning of our understanding and developing of trauma theory and treatment practice, we have known that at the core of trauma of all kinds is the failure or loss of attachment and connection. The first and perhaps (at least for me) only groundbreaking trauma books, Bessel’s Psychological Trauma (1987, American Psychiatric Press) and Judith Herman’s timeless Trauma and Recovery (1992, Basic Books) highlighted the essential role of community, of others, for healing to occur. Already then, when we had barely gotten the PTSD diagnosis (1980)

Music

The Kenyan barbers in their profound wisdom embody this. They are able to transform what is already a gathering place of community and lively social life, into a place of healing. And as if that stroke of brilliance were not enough, they have discovered another component. It is as if they have been sneaking into our conferences, hiding in the back and eavesdropping. One way or another they seemed to discover something that we are learning and that we are being taught. The healing power of music and movement.

The barber shop plays music “about stress,” as another avenue of encouragement to open up, it may be in the background or even foreground. It universalizes, normalizes and apparently de-stigmatizes stress, anxiety and depression, welcoming candor and openness. Barbers may also encourage activity that is healing and helpful, certainly calming. And where appropriate, they might offer the opportunity for more formal mental health assessment. And where possible, how to access and obtain more help. The barbers receive a nominal fee for the service they provide, in addition to their usual “shave and a haircut!” But it appears they really don’t do it for that.

For me, amidst the sturm und drang of painful, distressing news, and our workdays crowded with painful stories of trauma and neglect, this story brought a smile to my heart and a ray of hope about human goodness. If it is not quite “feel good” to you, perhaps today’s song will be. It is one of our barbers’ “stress songs!”   

Today’s song:

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