I genuinely think that I look better with no hair, and I feel sexier.
Hollywood makes stuff that people absorb, and it lingers in your subconscious.
I don't think people realize why weaves and the cultural appropriation of black hairstyles are so sensitive. It's deep-rooted. For me, it goes back to high school: I wanted to have the long, flowing hair. So I got a weave. But then I didn't want guys to put their fingers in it - you don't want them to feel your weave.
Growing up, I had really big hair. Giant hair. As I got older, the goal was to make it smaller - I wanted to look like everyone else. So I got a weave. I would manipulate my hair and try to make it straight.
It's a classic love story: me and my hair. I have loved my hair. I have betrayed my hair. My hair and I have gone through this long, gut-wrenching relationship.
I don't consider myself to be an extraordinary person.
Activism and art do go hand in hand, but I am an artist and an 'artivist' within that.
I do not speak at panels, because I'm a real shy actress. And to put me in that position, I'm going to fail you because that's not where my strengths lie.
I grew up with a lot of karaoke and dancing and good movies.
My grandma was a ballerina.
I grew up everywhere because my dad was in the Navy. I had to adapt to each environment.
My family's full of wild women.
