Unwanted hair touching is a thing, y’all. Yes, it has happened to me. My tightly coiled hair has been natural for most of my life and in my adulthood I have worn it in a short afro, in box braids, twisted, in loose styles, and currently in slender locs. I am generally a “worst case scenario” thinker, which means I try to plan for random, mostly outlandish occurrences. So, per my natural mental processes, I have conceived a plan for the reasonable likelihood that someone would engage in unauthorized fondling of my hair. For the grabby woman in my imagination, I’ve already decided to grab a boob. For the man, I’m going for his package. “Who are you to determine what is open for exploration on my body?” I’d say. Cue slow clap from the crowd that has gathered. End scene.

The need to guard against such interactions is real for so many folks who join the ranks of those who are outwardly “other” in the United States. Black women are right in there for very specific reasons. So as social media and the Black Blogosphere exploded with news that un-ruly.com would host the exhibition, “You Can Touch My Hair,” I knew I had to go.