I Won't Cut My Beard And I Won't Change My Hair

Okay, so I don't have a beard, but I wanted to use that lyric because it happened to fit my situation rather nicely.

So I have this pet peeve about my hair. I like it in my face. I love my bangs, I love the length, I just love all of it. But because I attend a catholic school, with rules about your hair, every summer I have to loose my precious bangs, because the teachers, "Can't stand to see hair covering my beautiful face", yeah go kiss someone else's ass. I guess I'm being a little bit harsh, but it really bugs me, you know? I mean, they change what I wear, they change the way I speak, they even change the way I act, and I'm okay with it, but my hair is supposed to be my way. If nothing else ever goes my way at that school, I want my hair to actually reflect who I am and what I'm about.

Self-expression is so frowned upon. I can't make up my own silly words because they say that I'm just replacing curse words. I can't doodle certain things because it could be referencing something inappropriate. They want everyone to be their little robots, looking perfect and exactly the same. Perfect is not who I am, and I'm tired of pretending it is.