The Eternal Impact of a Hair Cut

We have a volunteer who is a professional hair-cutter, and every time she volunteers for a shift at the shelter (which is about once a month), she offers her services to any of the residents who want a hair cut.

The feeling of morale and self-esteem that is present after everyone’s gotten a hair cut is amazing. You wouldn’t think that such a little thing could have such a dramatic impact – but let me tell you how it does:

We had a woman living here who was dealing with some pretty serious health issues, as well as dependence and relational issues. If anyone deserves to feel “down,” it’s her. And she did. For many days at a time she would just exist. She would walk through life, eat, even smile at you, but you could tell it was empty. She was not working on her plan to better her life. She had no hope. The morning after hair-cut night I walked into work and passed her going out – she had dressed up to match her new “do” and was wearing carefully applied make-up. Gleam in her eye and head held high she informed me she was going out looking for a job. She felt good about herself, and that gave her the confidence to face the world.

We had a young man who was always negative, always seeing the bad side of every situation. He always wore black and spoke black – focusing on all the struggles he’d had in his short life. Quite often I’d seen him cry. That is how I left him on the night of the hair cut. The next morning I walked into work, took one look at him – and rolled my eyes. The hair-cutter, setting aside her own ideas of job-worthiness and presentable appearance, had agreed to give him a Mohawk. But the amazing thing about it was, he was smiling. That night he came back in, and told me a joke – and actually laughed with me! Someone had given him time, treated him as a valuable person, and respected his desires. This Mohawk, though it may be juvenile and may not help him in the job market, gave him a sense of personhood and, strangely, a sense of worth. And that WILL help him, in the job market, and in life.

There was another man here at that time who was imprisoned by the demon of mental illness. He would sit in the corner and talk to himself, often laughing loudly at the scenes playing in his own head. He would sometimes shift his eyes to fix you with a threatening stare, only to turn back away and start muttering again. On the morning after the hair cut, I couldn’t find him. He was nowhere to be seen. It took me several minutes to realize that his wild-eyed, crazily unkept visage had been replaced by the calm, clean-shaven face of a young man. The hair that had sat around his head and chin in mats and knots had been cut away to reveal a clear-eyed person who could almost be accused of being in his right mind. The other residents told me that he had asked – had left the voices in his head, gotten up from his corner, noticed as equals a fellow-human, and asked to be rid of the signs of his condition. Even as he continued his wild antics, he now saw the world through clearer eyes (at least eyes that he could see out of,) and allowed us who work at the shelter to see more of him and to speak truth into his life.

Someone’s time and encouragement. Someone’s unflinching touch. Has changed lives.