Later this year Chris Rock is releasing the film Good Hair. One day his four year old daughter asked him "Daddy, how come I don't have good hair?" and he went off on this quest to find out what black women define as good hair. I recently watched this clip on the Tyra Banks show about good hair/bad hair and I thought - wow, white people watching this must be so confused! When Solange Knowles cut her hair short she received more media and Twitter attention than she did when she released her last album.
Are we enslaved by our obsession with good hair? Think about it. We spend so much money on hair care products, however, almost none of this money goes into the development of any black communities around the world. We buy weaves produced in India from Koreans. The largest hair care manufacturers are owned by what Americans call WASPs- white, anglo saxon, protestant. Is it time to finally break the chains?
According to Tyra, 6% of the US population is black women who spend 80% of what is spent on hair products. And yet, when I lived in England and even when I was in the US, I never once saw a black hair salon on the high street. You know how you can walk into a Vidal Sasson hair dresser on main city streets or in shopping malls? As a black woman living in England, I can never do that. Even the hairdresser at my university - and she was black- couldn't do my hair for my graduation until I had a weave put in (which she then washed and massacred).
Now let me be honest here, I'm hardly the biggest purist when it comes to hair. I have had my hair relaxed a couple of times. I've had dreadlocks. I've had cornrows. I've worn it scarlet once and baby blue on another occasion. The first time I had my hair purely natural and exposed to the elements for more than 48 hours was about a month ago when I wore it natural for about three months here in the Hague. When I turned 18 I cut my hair one last time and decided never to put a relaxer in it ever again, no matter what. Given my allergies to almost anything, the relaxers usually took very well on the first day, but after two weeks my hair would inevitably start falling out. Really. So I cut it short, had it braided and never looked back.
When I was watching the Tyra clip I couldn't help but feel really sad. There was a woman rejoicing about how she had the "white girl flow" and that meant that she had "amazing" hair. It was heartbreaking. We have learnt to mainstream and popularise cosmetics for African women - Iman, Cover Girl and other cosmetic lines are all available in the largest department stores all over the world. So why are we still in denial about our hair? Why is the supposed largest market for hair cair products so intent on pretending that it comes to them naturally? Why are we so militant in attacking those who chose to wear their hair another way?
Why is black women's hair so political? An afro or a cropped cut makes you political - an anarchist. Dreadlocks are for rebels. Cornrows are for children. A relaxer is pretty and acceptable. What is it with our need to sanitise and categories all these issues, when in actual fact our hair is just different? Not better or worse. Just different. Would Barack Obama have been elected had Michelle worn cornrows? Hardly likely. Even after their election to the White House Michele and her daughters' hair are scrutinized to no end. I think that that says a lot more about the black community than it does about anyone else. Many times we think that people are seeing things in us but the reality is that we are projecting it on ourselves. I always thought that having my hair natural would prevent me from getting ahead in my career. And while I am far from being senior staff, I realised that if I learn to manage it - keep it clean, neat and well oiled, most people never even noticed. Sure its never going to flutter in the wind or move around when I dance, but you can't braid fine straight hair and when you loc it, it just doesn't look right. On the other hand, our efforts at pretending that weave is our natural hair has been so good that it is difficult for non black people to understand what all the fuss is about. A white girl on the Tyra clip was asking how can you not wash your hair everyday? Because it is different! If I wash my hair more than once or twice a month it will dry out and break badly. (Have you ever wondered why there are so few black women in your gym?). I've also had people ask me things about my hair - when I took my braids out a colleage asked me why I cut my hair. We roll our eyes at such questions, but the reality is that its our fault. We have become so good at pretending to be something that we're not that everybody has bought into our lies. Except its now costing us a fortune to keep up appearances.
I've come to the point where I think that if you own it - really really rock the hairstyle, or the outfit, it really doesn't matter what your hair looks like. If you want to project a certain image, as long as its clean and neat and well taken care of, it doesn't matter whether its bone straight or slightly curled or really kinky like mine. Most people don't care. If you are a woman of substance, whether you rock a weave or have it natural, it doesn't matter. Its just a hairstyle. Its not you. We need to tear down this last chain people, and reclaim our own crowning glory, and our right to wear it however we want. |
As an african woman, with the kind of texture NO AFRICAN OR BLACK woman wants, I have come to totally accept my hair and all it's challenges. Yes I do sometimes admire a good looking perm but I am never tempted to go down that route. My last weave was during my university days over 10 years ago.
I will say this though, many urban african women are not yet ready to embrace natural hair. You should hear the comments I get about my hair from every african I meet here in Europe or when I go back home. It is usually "you should do something about your hair"
I find that the urban african woman seems to accept her hair only if it is in dreads or very short and usually much later in her life. why we belive that "I need a perm to manage my hair" is a lie we have bought into hook line and sinker and until we as African women begin to love ourselves with our afros of various textures and lenghts, in matutas, lines (cornrows) or dreads, we are just as hopeless as the girl on Tyra who said
"I've got a white girl's flow" Yes I saw that clip and like you was speechless!
PS: I used to be very militant about natural hair but have since mellowed out. I guess it has to do with me being OK with my hair.