The sun had barely risen over Atlanta that crisp October morning when twelve-year-old Jasmine Parker stood in front of her bedroom mirror, her face glowing with excitement. Her mother, Angela, had spent the previous evening braiding Jasmine’s hair into neat cornrows, weaving in bright beads that clinked softly with each turn of her head. For Jasmine, the style was more than just pretty—it was a piece of her family’s history, a thread connecting her to her grandmother and great-grandmother, who had worn similar braids when they were girls.

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