I Had Never Cut Anyone's Hair. Then I Volunteered to Do Exactly That

It has been almost three months since I moved back to Singapore from Melbourne, and over a month for the Wife. We are slowly getting back into the rhythm of Singapore life. The humidity, I will admit, is still a struggle.

Recently I reached out to a friend who is in charge of one of the 21 volunteering initiatives in the church, to find out more. She was very excited to have me on board, because I think it is not easy to find volunteers for this one.

Most people assume you need to be skilled to volunteer for it, and skip right over. Me? I am not trained either, technically, much less skilled. What I do have is "experience" doing it on myself for (gasp!) almost three years. You really can learn many things from YouTube these days, though some things probably stay at the watching and mental ascent. I was just crazy enough to take the plunge.

Today was D-Day. The once-a-month service to the elderly. Free haircuts.

I was upfront with my organiser friend. I have only ever cut my own hair, with a clipper. YouTube-"trained", nothing remotely close to professional, purely functional. I have also never cut anyone else's hair, so I have never had the perspective of a hairdresser. My thinking was that if a clipper cut is acceptable, I could give it a go. She assured me that the bar is very low. Kudos to her faith and positivity.

She was very encouraging throughout the morning and kept looking out for me. I suspect she also wanted me to have a good first experience so that I would return. Haha! Fair play, if so.

So my first client this morning was an elderly gentleman. The feeling was like the first time I drove a vehicle on my own after getting my driving licence. No driving instructor beside me. Just a friend I was helping out who couldn’t drive. To spice things up, it was a box truck, not a car, where the rear view mirror is blocked, and I had to go onto the expressway! (In Singapore, expressways are off-limits to learner drivers.) I remember topping up the truck with diesel, taking a deep breath, and off we went. This morning felt just like that. I took a deep breath and turned on the clipper…

That was the first time my clipper had touched anyone else's hair. He did not say anything during the cut. He only thanked me at the end, which I have decided to take as a pass mark. The first cut probably took longer than it needed to.

I had three clients in total, two "uncles" and one "auntie". I did not think I would be cutting a lady's hair! But all three asked for similar short styles (ok, “style” may be too big a word) that do not require scissors, because I do not have a pair and have never used one on myself.

The auntie closed her eyes during the cut, and when I checked with her, she asked for it to be shorter. My friend stepped in with her scissors to thin the hair out further. Whether the closed eyes meant trust or simply relaxation, I could not tell.

The third uncle was chattier and made me feel more like a "real" hairdresser. He came with his wife, who has dementia, so he was the one deciding the hair style and length for her. I learnt that he was about my dad's age and in a pretty similar situation, being the sole care-giver for a wife with dementia, though his wife's situation looked more advanced than my mom's.

He was happy with the cut because I took my time. He lamented that the last time he went to a barber, it took only 5 minutes because there was a queue, he thought. Each of my cuts took about 30 minutes. I could not have gone any faster – the imposter syndrome alarm was sounding in my head the whole time! And honestly, he does not have much hair, so 5 minutes was probably all a professional needed.

And like my dad, he also shared about friends and siblings who have passed on, one by one. I was too absorbed in getting the cut right to catch every word, but it sounded familiar, like what my dad laments.

I wonder if he was happy with the haircut not just because it took way longer than 5 minutes and felt like a fuller service, but more so because the longer time meant he had someone to chat to. He did not sound lonely, but I can only imagine the stress of being the care-giver of a wife with dementia, even if he still looked healthy and mobile.

What has stayed with me is his lament about the short cuts at the barber. I imagine it is partly because 5 minutes is too short to have a conversation. The organiser told me the bar was low, and I think she meant the haircut. But skill is only one thing you can bring to a chair like that. Time is another, and as a beginner I had plenty of it, if only because I could not go any faster.

I hope to continue the conversation with him next month, if he turns up. For now, more YouTube videos are in my schedule. Maybe a basic hairdressing course as well…

When did you last take your time over something small for someone else, and what happened in the extra minutes?

👉 Hit reply and share your thoughts – I’d love to hear what’s resonating with you.

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