Vistas & Byways - Fall 2023
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NONFICTION  - 
     A NEW DAY

"I was riding in the car with my dad,"
                                      Photo by Weebly.com                                    

I Got my First Gray Hair
Before I Got My Period

by  Kathy Bruin #

#  Author's Note:  This piece was written when I was 35 years old.
I got my first gray hair before I got my period. I was riding in the car with my dad, and he noticed it while we waited at a red light. “You have a gray hair!” he exclaimed, pulling the car over. Locating it again on my 13-year-old head, he carefully pulled it out over my face to show me. My dad was delighted. Neither one of us yanked it out.
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My father, then 43, had nearly all white hair and I remember the discovery of my gray hair as being a positive one for both of us. I thought of the arrival of gray hair as a connection with my Irish side—my father’s side—and I thought it was cool to have a gray hair so young. It was certainly the kind of thing that got kids to ooh and aah in junior high. (Remember this was a time when seeming mature was a big deal, when kids smoked to look older and boys tried to grow wispy first mustaches.) I didn’t smoke. I didn’t even wear a bra yet. The gray hair was a nice novelty.
 
One time in my mid-20s my whole family was driving somewhere and all four of us siblings were crammed into the backseat. I was sitting forward on the seat with my younger sisters and brother behind me. One of my sisters said, “Kathy has the most gray hair of all of us!” Since I knew how much my brother, Ed, had (and it seemed like a lot), I was surprised to have won this title. The thing that shocked me the most, however, was that I apparently had gray hair on the back of my head too. This was not something that had occurred to me before.

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​Most of the time, I think my gray hair is neat or pretty. While brushing my hair, I like seeing the most pronounced streak shine along the side of my face. And I love the silvery hairs on my boyfriend’s temples. They really do look like fine silver threads. And I admire some men’s and women’s gray from afar. “It’s so beautiful,” I think. “I hope I go gray like that.”
 
But a couple other factors color my perceptions of my own and others’ silvery locks. Hair dying is so common in our youth-oriented culture, especially among women, that it doesn’t seem to be a question of “are you going to?” but “WHEN are you going to?” I feel the pressure to dye my hair and I resent it. Friends and strangers have asked questions for years. “How long have you had that shock of gray?” I have been asked of my streak. I have wondered if people ask questions of balding men (or women.) “How long has your hair been coming out?” “You know, going for hair plugs will make you look so much younger.”
 
A year ago, an eight-year-old girl asked me if I were in college. Recognizing the compliment (being mistaken for being much younger than I was), I reacted stereotypically, cooing, “Oh thank you for thinking so. No,” I added, “didn’t you see all the gray?” “Oh,” she said, “are you a grandmother?” Whoa I thought. Her perception just went from coed to grandmother because of the gray!
 
I began to think of the role gray hair plays in our culture. Or rather, doesn’t play. Was it possible that the only people in our culture with gray hair were the very old? The grandparents? Is it possible that those of us who are said to be prematurely gray are just the only ones in our age bracket who are NOT dying? And what is premature anyway? If it weren’t time for my hair to be turning gray, well then it wouldn’t be now, would it? 

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It’s true that gray hair does make you look older. But that’s only a bad thing because we as a culture, covet youth so much. Because we despise aging so much, it is hard to make the decision not to dye. It is to actively fly in the face of cultural forces—if you can look younger, why wouldn’t you? Recently, when I told a man my age he said, “I would have thought older. What with all the gray and all.” (Not exactly a chick-getting line.)
 
What is the percentage of gray-haired women who choose to hide the gray? Do you think it’s half? Could it be more? Surely, gray hair is revered somewhere in the world, but why not here? It may be fun to play with different colored hair dye but I don’t think it would be nearly as popular if it didn’t also cover the grays. Have we all undergone mass brainwashing? (Well, it’s really more of a dye job, isn’t it?)
 
To her credit, my mother never dyed her hair and it is now a beautiful mixture of silver strands with her original dark brown. But what will I do? I have always thought I would just let it do what it intends to do, but as I get older, I recognize that it may not be as easy to resist as I had hoped. I feel the pressure to try and keep a youthful image. In the absence of more silver haired female actors, politicians, newscasters and other women in the public eye (not to mention the women in your real life), leaving your hair gray is downright rebellious. It stands out on the street. And it stands out because it is so different.
 
You can see I have been thinking about this a lot lately. It won’t be long until I begin to describe myself as 35 years old, 5’6”, with hazel eyes and long—gulp—gray hair. But I got a little rush of resolve the other day. I was in New York City on business and had also been working on this essay. One morning as I left the hotel and walked into the stream of people on the sidewalk, I noticed a woman about my age walking toward me. Her skin was smooth and bright, and her hair was shiny gray. It was cut short—thick and jaunty—and she was absolutely striking. Her silver locks made her stand out so fabulously from others in the crowd. With more people like her on the streets—well, wouldn’t that be something?

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​Kathy Bruin, an experienced program manager, joined OLLI San Francisco State as Director in 2019. Prior to OLLI, she helped launch the Center for Iranian Diaspora Studies at San Francisco State. As Operations Manager at the Impact Hub between 2012-2015, Kathy supported more than 700 members and 500 guests annually. Over her career, Kathy has supervised magazine production, events, and conferences.
 
In 1995 Kathy founded About-Face, a media literacy campaign that educates about the impact of media on female body image and equips girls and young women with media literacy skills. In 2004 she was “punked” on a spoof debate show on Comedy Central called Crossballs.
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Vistas & Byways Review is the semiannual journal of fiction, nonfiction and poetry by members of Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (OLLI) at San Francisco State University​.​
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