A set of fresh braids means something. Black women don’t get them only because they’re cute, although of course they are that, too. We get them because we’re preparing for rest, romance, adventure, and reinvention. They’re a protective style but also an act of proactive beauty. I still remember being a kid, sitting on the floor between my Aunt Elaine’s legs as she braided my hair and we laughed at a TV comedy marathon to pass the time. Many hours later, I stood up with waist-length box braids swinging down my back like I’d unlocked a new level of fly. I can now see this experience for what it really was: a lesson on patience and love that I didn’t even know I was learning. Braids are about endurance, care, and tradition. Somebody taking the time. Braids also carry so much history, so many crucial reminders. Cornrow designs once mapped escape routes during slavery. Women braided grains of rice into their hair for sustenance on their journeys, literally weaving in what we needed to survive.…