“Yeah…I did have a little bit of dislike for my hair at one point. But, you know, it’s your hair. You would rather not… than not have it. And I grew to know that whatever hair you have, you have pretty hair. I should embrace that and love that…I’ve grown too, you know?” – Addison
From Gabrielle Union’s haircare line Flawless to Tarajih P. Henson’s haircare line TPH, Black, female celebrities have shared their journey of hair and self-acceptance through crafting their own products. However, their stories reflect many Black women and girls navigating their hair within Black feminity and self-acceptance. For Addison and many Black women alike, hair defines history, femininity, and personal individuality. However, Black women’s hair faces scrutiny by political and social institutions built upon the foundation of misogynoir. Societal andpolitical institutions work to establish, enforce, and maintain ideas and restrictions about Black women’s hair. As Black women regularly encounter conforming critiques, the relationship between Black women, their hair, and their self-perception becomes altered. However, the perspective of Black women in the surveillance and judgment of their hair is often not taken into account. Through the portrayal of Black women’s hair in media, legislative constraints, and political movements throughout time, Black girls and women continuously struggle to reclaim agency over their hair and consequently how they view themselves. However, Black women persist in reshaping narratives to celebrate the beauty and diversity of their hair, showing self-acceptance.
SECTION ONE: From Youth Till Now
“[I felt] indifference [about my hair growing up], but overtime I did become jealous of people who could do hair flips in elementary school and had [I] a bit of a loathing for my natural hair.” – Anonymous
Black women are conditioned with ideals about their hair from youth. As Black girls form their identity, they are met with pressure to conform to Eurocentric ideals of beauty. Researchers at Fordham University identified that white standards of professionalism and beauty result in a hyper-vigilant sense of self for Black girls as they navigate their identity through femininity and Blackness. Illustrated in The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, Claudia (a young black girl) vocalizes “adults, older girls, shops, magazines, newspapers, window signs—all the world had agreed that a blue-eyed, yellow-haired, pink-skinned doll was what every girl child treasured” (Morrison, 1970). Morrison’s encapsulation of the realization Black girls encounter while observing the world around them reflects many Black women growing up outside of societal defaults. Additionally, negative experiences such as peer teasing and disciplinary action reinforce the negative internalization of Afro-textured hair (and thus Blackness) being undesirable. Black adolescent girls within public and private education often encounter unwanted touching of their hair, negative comments during physical education classes, and forceful removal of hair accessories. As young Black girls experience verbal and physical harassment, external provocation alters their internal sense of self-worth and confidence. Additionally, attributions of value become assigned to different hair characteristics such as length and curl type. Researchers at Arizona State University studied a cohort of 105 Black girls in the United States about negative hair experience and their perception of different qualities of Black hair. Results found that 81% of the girls reported hair bullying or teasing related to their hair from both their peers and teachers. Additionally, 75% of the girls in discussion groups categorized “good hair” as straight, long, and flowy and 84% of the girls in discussion groups categorized “bad hair” as “short, kinky, and hard to comb”.
Portrayals of Black hair in media also affect how Black girls perceive their hair. Popular magazines such as Essence and Ebony with high female, Black readerships featured celebrity-endorsed hair products from relaxers to heat protectants that ran through the 2000s and early 2010s. Popular examples feature Dark and Lovely’s relaxer system advertised with Kelly Rowland and L’Oreal’s heat-protectant mousse with Beyonce. Celebrities, often seen as symbols of beauty and success in the Black community, inadvertently reinforce that altering one’s natural hair texture is essential for acceptance and validation through their smiles and poses in glossy advertisements.
SECTION TWO: Natural Hair in the Political Sphere
The legislation surrounding Black women’s hair involves a long history of exclusion and suppression. The United States’ first restrictive hair regulation took place in 1786 in New Orleans. New economic opportunities allowed women of African descent to buy their freedom and take a new position in society. Black women also adorned their hair with jewels, beads, and feathers, exuding wealth, elegance, and an elevated social status. Consequently, white men began to show interest in Black women which enraged their white, female counterparts. Governor Esteban Rodriguez Miro of Louisiana thus passed a set of laws prohibiting Black women from embellishing their appearance and forcing them to wear a tignon (i.e. a headscarf). Even though tignon laws were abolished in the 1800s, their lingering attitudes persist in shaping the perception of Black hair as falling short of professional and academic standards. As Black women continued within the workforce and academia, natural hair became subjected to grooming policies and professional standards where straight, long hair is considered ideal. As Black women continued within school and work, many faced removal from sports teams, threatened school detention and suspension, and job termination However, one case set the precedent for legislative change. In May 2010, Chastity Jones attended a job interview and was offered a position as a customer service representative by an insurance company. However, she could only accept the employment opportunity if she cut off her locs. In 2013, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) filed a case on behalf of Jones. The EEOC argued that Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 should protect hairstyles associated with race from job prejudice. Although Title VII seemed to protect employees against discrimination based on race and sex, the Eleventh Circuit dismissed Jones’s case. The incompetence of Title VII to protect all aspects of Black women’s hair (hair type, hairstyles, and hair length) initiated a domestic coalition effort to expand protection for race-specific hairstyles. The initiative was co-created by The National Urban League, Dove, Western Center on Law and Poverty, and Color of Change and named the Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair Act (i.e. the CROWN ACT). First established in 2019, the CROWN Act expanded the Civil Rights Act to require protections for the biological characteristics of Afro-textured hair, but also the cultural styling of it in places of work and school. As of 2023, 22 states have enacted the CROWN Act while many others are moving to enact their own.
SECTION THREE: The Cost
“[Pressure to change my hair] comes from everyone around me. People always ask me why I still get relaxers. It’s really embarrassing.” – Anonymous
Various memories of peer, familial, and community judgment come to mind, but one instance stands out for Addision, “[When I was 14 or 15 years old, I remember when] I hadn’t been at the hair salon for a while and my hair…wasn’t looking too well… I get in the chair and [the hairdresser is] just like… ‘You haven’t been doing anything to your hair? What’s going on with it? Why is it like [that]?’… I don’t know what to do. I tried combing it and having intensely intense, thick, curly hair and combing it over and over again. It’s a lot.”
As Addision recounts on her salon experience, she reveals the emotional toll that encounter took, “I just felt very self-conscious in that moment because… a lot of things were happening in my life and [my hair] just felt like a lot to do….I feel like that was a moment that… it just made me think of that, you know, sitting in that chair and being, it seemed ridiculed for things in that moment that seemed very difficult…”
Addison’s experience reflects the challenges Black women face in maintaining their natural hair in a society that doesn’t accommodate its unique needs and qualities. The dictation, discrimination, and standards Black women encounter reflect the attitude many have about their hair as well. Within a recent research survey by Dove, 81% of Black girls in majority white schools wished that their hair was straight. This desire compares starkly with the experiences of their mothers; 81% of Black mothers reported encountering hair-based discrimination by age 5 as well. However, the pressures of conformity impact direct health outcomes. Black women continue to use hair relaxers despite evidence for a 50% heightened risk of uternine cancer and fibroids after prolonged use. Pressure to maintain a certain hair appearance impacts Black women’s health indirectly as well. 38% of Black women reported engaging in less frequent physical activity because of the additional maintenance needed for their hair when they worked out.
When asked about Addison’s history of hair-altering chemicals and styles, she pauses for a moment and reflects, “Well, I did feel for a long time that having my hair pressed and laid and having a perm was
what you should do…I didn’t like it. I never really liked [relaxing my hair] because it burned very bad. But also, braids are very heavy. It’s a lot to take down and you don’t want braids all the time. But you felt like you had to do something with your hair. You had to have it in some type of style….Plus, it costs a lot of money, especially if you’re paying someone else to do your hair each time”
SECTION FOUR: Embracing and Acceptance
“I recently looked at my hair in the mirror and really appreciated the journey it’s been on and is still on. It’s going to look even better as it grows. “ – Anonymous
“ …I finally went natural and realized how cool it is to have hair that defies gravity.” –
Anonymous
“…I looked in the mirror at my hair sitting like a mane with all its volume, like a cloud the way it was defying gravity, and I was honestly just awe-struck that it was all mine.” – Anonymous
Despite societal efforts and pressures imposed on Black women’s hair, resistance is shown through acceptance and celebration. The natural hair movement began in the 1960s in conjunction with the Civil Rights Movement as a political defiance of Eurocentric beauty standards. However, the role of social media sprung the movement into the 2010s. Black girls and women began to teach and learn about each other through YouTube channels and blogs dedicated to natural hair. Popular Youtubers such as Whitney White (@Naptural85), Shanique Buntyn (@ShaniqueBuntyn), Chizi Duru (@ChiziDuru), and Jewellianna Palencia
(@Jewellianna) all established their online presence to document their natural hair journey and later became figures of mentorship and guidance for Black woman concerning their hair as well.
In conjunction with the transformative Natural Hair movement carried throughout the internet, television stars and shows began to follow the same trend of change. Television producers and actresses Issa Rae and Marsai Martin create shows with a variety of Black hair representations such as “Insecure” and “Little”.
Many other Black celebrities continue to represent the possibilities of Black hair. Grammy-award-winning singers Chloe and Halle Baily and Grammy-award-winning rapper Kaliii frequently showcase the diversity of their locs on and off the red carpet. Additionally, the release of The Little Mermaid starring Halle herself demonstrated locs, and thus Black hair, have a place in fantasy and on the big screen.
As mainstream efforts continue to highlight the beauty and intricacy of Black hair and feminity, the internal change of self-love and self-appreciation shines through in Black girls and women of all ages.
For Addison, the journey of her natural hair is marked by all the same, “I love the fact that I have locs now and I love the fact that I [am on] this journey…A lot of people describe having locs as like planting a seed and [watching it grow]. It really is like that…you have to water your locs and detox them and all those types of things. And there was something that I had saw, like, I think it was like a couple months ago, maybe, where there’s these hair shows that happen and it’s a lot of black people, a lot of black women showing off their hair and showing what they can do with it… That makes all the pain … [and] all of that from way back to now…It makes it worth it. “