My Natural Hair Journey

Black Hair and Self Hate

I recently attended the Raleigh Natural Hair Expo. It was my first time at such an event and I was really interested in seeing how other young ladies were wearing and caring for their natural hair. The best part of the event was the session I attended, "The Linguistics of Natural Hair" presented by Schatzi of Schatzi's Day Spa. Among all of the witty and profound insights littering her lecture, one thing stuck with me most. She said that when African American people see you wearing your hair in its natural state, they are reminded of who they are, and where they came from. And, too often, they don't like what they see.

We African American people cannot change our skin (although many of us try). But because our hair is one of the most easily-altered physical indicators of our African ancestry, we can go to great lengths to change it. Press and curls, perms, and texturizers all work to make us look a little less ethnic. A little more palatable to our European American neighbors. We fit in more easily this way, don't we? We have learned from them what is "civilized", "beautiful", "acceptable", "professional", and "appropriate." And those nappy knots growing from our scalp ain't it. We have adopted these lies, claimed them as our own, and preached them to the masses of color. Yes, Dark is Lovely when your hair is straight.  We perpetrate as though we are proud, but we are not. We haven't been proud since the 60s when people didn't need a YouTube video to know how to rock a 'fro. These days, we're only proud when it's en vogue. And what's in style is rarely dictated or endorsed by us.  Golden brown  and deep chocolate skin? That's in style. Nice plump lips? Maybelline sells that. Story telling curves? Definitely in. Kinky, coily, tightly curled hair? No white person really wants that. So we don't either.

CARRIE MAE WEEMS (1953-   )
Looking into the mirror, the Black Woman asked,
"Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who's the finest of them all?"
The mirror says, "Snow White you Black B*tch, and don't
you forget it."

Admit it, Black Folks. We don't much like ourselves. Not necessarily as individuals, rather, as a group. And our inability to accept our hair as is, is the proof. The discomfort you feel when someone is wearing a TWA next to your perm...it's like they've outed you. They turned a spotlight on the deep dark secret you've been keeping since you were eleven. Is your kitchen showing? Oh no, will they find out that your Cherokee heritage was 7 grandmothers ago and diluted by all the Africans? The feelings that come with seeing your hair reflected back to you by others is evidence of what you feel (or have been taught to feel) about Black people. It's akin to the feeling that rushes in when you're enjoying fine dining and soft conversation with other Black people. Then you hear jovial laughter and elevated banter coming from another group of Black people. And for some reason, you're embarrassed. You're agitated. You can't stand them. You're taking it personally. What will people think of you, when they see them?

It is legitimate to be concerned about judging eyes. But who has the right to judge us but us? Who decides what is appropriate and beautiful for hair of African descent, but those of African descent? Yet we have been judged by Whites of years past. They deemed us unworthy and our hair unlovely. They shunned our glory, so we have covered it up as best we can. This should not be.

It's not a matter of whether or not you wear your hair straight. It's the reason for choosing to wear our hair straight that we all have to think about. It's easy to argue that we do not wear our hair straight in order to shroud our true color. But this argument should also be called into question.

Do we love ourselves or just the parts for which European Americans have given their blessings? How do you really feel about your hair? How do you really feel about yourself? Grow your hair out, wear it in public and see.