Roller Citizens Funeral Home

Our connection has been codependent: My thick, black locks, which once cascaded down my back and surpassed my behind, grounded me as an individual. When I close my eyes and picture myself, that's the vision that comes to mind: that unruly, unkept mane. I had invested so much in this image of myself, that I never dared to ask what would become of my identity if, say, one day, that person with whom I identified suddenly changed. I never dreamed of going platinum blonde in the same way that I never pondered cutting off my left arm: My hair had become a vital part of my personhood.I've never had the privilege of being unaware of my own hair — particularly because I was born with a lot of it. I am from a loud but loving family of Middle Eastern immigrants, but I was raised on Manhattan's Upper East Side. As an adolescent, I was frequently mocked for resembling a werewolf or caveman by my predominantly white, blonde peers. I soon grew weary of my appearance, and thus, resentful of my racial identity. I resolved to blend in with my American cohorts as much as humanly possible. I made the decision to start waxing from the very young age of eight and went on to try every treatment in the brochure: threading, laser, Nair — you name it, I've used it to rip follicles out from under my skin. In fact, the only hair I never dared to touch were the locks upon my head.As I've grown older, though, I have come to the realization that, sometimes, letting go of aspects of your identity can make room self-recreation. By letting go of old notions of who you were, you may just experience the thrill of discovering who you truly are — or at the very least, who you could be. This revelation hit me the first time I decided to quit my job. Readjusting the expectations that I had for myself shook me to my very core. Disoriented, I struggled with the idea that, while people viewed me as the "same old Iman," I felt like an entirely different person. Thus, I resolved to alter myself on the out...

In a world packed with cynicism about government and the people that run it, the 2009-2015 NBC comedy endures not only for being funny, but for providing hope that, with the right public servants in place (especially at the local level), America can be a truly nice place to live, quirky high jinx and all. Whether it was the impossibly optimistic Leslie Knope (Amy Poehler), stern libertarian Ron Swanson (Nick Offerman), swag-obsessed Tom Haverford (Aziz Ansari), indifferent April Ludgate (Aubrey Plaza), loveable dimwit Andy Dwyer (Chris Pratt), incomparable Donna Meagle (Retta), level-headed Ben Wyatt (Adam Scott), relentlessly positive Chris Traeger (Rob Lowe), rainbow-infused space unicorn Ann Perkins (Rashida Jones), and even perpetual prank victim Jerry Gergich (Jim O'Heir), each character was good at what they did in their way and always tried to help their fellow citizens. For a series as uneven yet frequently brilliant as Parks and Rec, singling out the top 25 episodes can be a challenging feat. However, if there's one thing that Leslie and the gang proved, it's that anything can be done if you just find your team and get to work. Recommended Video Entertainment The Post-Credit of 'Thor:Ragnarok' May Confirm the Sad Fate for This Character NBC 25. "Boys' Club" Season 1, Episode 4A running theme throughout Parks and Recreation is the uphill battle women face trying to make it in a government largely run by men. When Leslie and Ann try to crash the guys' regular party, she opens up a gift basket filled with wine to keep the party going. What ensues is an ethical dilemma in which the audience learns just how much Leslie cares about her job. While Leslie had always thought being good at her job meant blending into the boys' club, she learns here that she can do right by Pawnee in her own way, regardless of what the men in government do, say or think. Another bright spot in this episode is the loyalty the team shows for one another, with Leslie acc...