Chelsea Brandwein
Staff Writer

Kermit the frog once said “It’s not easy being green,” but I am proud to announce its getting easier being a red head.

Despite the infamous ‘Kick a Ginger Day’ event on Facebook and the widely viewed South Park episode mocking so-called ‘Gingers,’ redheads are regaining their confidence and their souls.

So what was the root of this discrimination against carrot tops?

This is going to require a fair amount of time travel.
One, two, three.
Destination: Salem, Massachusetts

The time is 1692 and I’m being led to an open flame. The stake firmly in the ground. My hands tied behind my back. My hair in constant motion, encircling my face, or is that the flame? To them I’m a witch. But I know who I am.

I’m just a spectator. I’m time traveling, remember?

During the witch trials, redheaded women were burned at the stake, as redheads were known to be untrustworthy. But trust me, it was just a superstition.

As a pale-skinned, freckle-faced, redhead I have been privy to all the labels. In grade school, I was the girl under the hat, and I got a lot of looks, mostly from mean girls donning Limited Too. When we went on class field trips to the beach, I wasn’t in my “itsy bitsy teeny weeny yellow polka dot bikini.” I was dressed in full combat gear, fighting a battle against the sun. Tights covered my legs, long sleeves my arms. No one dared to be different then. Standing out meant you were out.

When I got to middle school everyone wanted to be different. People started to come out of their shells. They started dying their hair…red.
I was a step ahead of them.

Now, high school is all about being unique. High school is where status quo takes on a whole new meaning. Where labels don’t touch our mouths but rather fill our notebooks separating one class from another.

To contact this writer, e-mail: cbrandwein@thesamohi.com