this woman’s work

Some good hair links

Apr 29, 2005 Adoption, Feminism/Politics

I’m putting these in two blog categories — “adoption” for those who read my archives because they are thinking of adopting cross-culturally and “feminism” because the personal is always political. I’m hoping this shows that this is an ongoing discussion within the Black community. What’s important to realize is that while there is a variety of opinions about hair, it’s clear that hair really does matter.

“The very same people who assume that I’m a sellout because of my hair won’t be seen with a woman (or man) without hair that’s long enough, “good” enough, or done enough. Many of my male associates are guilty of just such hypocrisy. One of them even had the nerve to tell me that I “need to do something more Afrocentric with (my) hair.” Did I mention that I don’t use any chemical processes whatsoever? He actually thought that it would be “blacker” to straighten my hair.”

from Black Identity & the Politics of Hair by Stephanie Mason

“Mr. Charlie’s late-night creeping helped set off even more self-esteem shock waves. Suddenly there were lots of little caramel-colored kids underfoot. Aside from getting “promoted” from the fields to the big house, these straighter-haired, lighter-skinned offspring and their descendants were often first to taste freedom and seize a modicum of postslavery power. For some of them, mixing or marrying darker members of the race was considered slumming. Sadly, these ugly, divisive values continue to haunt too many of us. We still separate ourselves into curious categories: high-yellow, redbone, blue-black, good hair, bad hair … The Emancipation Proclamation came down in 1863. How much longer before we drop the shackles of our warped self-perceptions and embrace every follicle on our curly, wavy, straight or kinky heads? When will we really see Black–light, dark and in between–as truly beautiful?”

from Crown and Glory by Pamela Johnson

“In the modern Western world, black hair carries political and social connotations that speak to both the black community and white outsiders. African Americans in particular tend to be more aware of the statements and reactions generated by their hair and hairstyles than do their white counterparts. Processed or unprocessed, black hair is molded and coifed into statements of identity. Afros and dreadlocks, both inventions by black people in Western parts of the world, are symbols of black pride that clearly indicate a point of difference between liberated black people and white suppressers.”

from Hair Deepens Racial Divide by Melissa Klayman

“Recently, I set out to get some answers on the subject. My first question: “If black is so beautiful, why go blonde?” And the second: “Are blacks trying to be white or subscribe to white beauty standards when they go blonde?” My curiosity stems from experience. I grew up in the Black is Beautiful era, when a woman who relaxed her hair could catch hell for it — forget about walking around with a blonde Afro.”

from The Blonding of Black America by Yvonne Durant

“Among my father’s people, I am always the one with “good hair,” while on my mother’s side, I have “some serious stuff.” It is all relative. Seriously, I really do think that napptural hair is both real (you can’t claim to have napptural hair if you have it braided with extensions half down your back or opt for dred extensions) and imagined (a state of mind, for lack of a better term). This is the message from the forgotten years that we all will have to remember if we are to survive the inevitable next period of Cain’t She Don’t She-ism (Can’t she comb it and don’t she ever try), It is coming, I know it and so do you if you think about. What choice will you make in the ongoing history of “styling options” and black women’s decisions about how to define themselves on their own terms?”

from A Blast From Your napptural Past, Present, and Future by Jacalyn Harden

“For several months I wore long braids (a fashion among black women at the time) made from the hair of Korean women. I loved this. It fulfilled my fantasy of having very long hair and it gave my short, mildly processed (oppressed) hair a chance to grow out. The young woman who braided my hair was someone I grew to love–a struggling young mother, she and her daughter would arrive at my house at seven in the evening and we would talk, listen to music, and eat pizza or burritos while she worked, until one or two o’clock in the morning. I loved the craft involved in the designs she created for my head. (Basket making! a friend once cried on feeling the intricate weaving atop my head.) I loved sitting between her knees the way I used to sit between my mother’s and sister’s knees while they braided my hair when I was a child. I loved the fact that my own hair grew out and grew healthy under the “extensions,” as the lengths of hair were called. I loved paying a young sister for work that was truly original and very much a part of the black hair-styling tradition. I loved the fact that I did not have to deal with my hair except once every two or three months (for the first time in my life I could wash it every day if I wanted to and not have to do anything further). Still, eventually the braids would have to be taken down (a four- to-seven-hour job) and redone (another seven to eight hours), nor did I ever quite forget the Korean women, who, according to my young hairdresser, grew their hair expressly to be sold. Naturally this information caused me to wonder (and, yes, worry) about all other areas of their lives.”

from Oppressed Hair Puts a Ceiling on the Brain by Alice Walker

“The chick-head had an afro alright…an afro WEAVE. I wanted to yell “IMPOSTER” and was tempted to throw a box of frozen peas but was able to maintain my composure. It wasn’t that the chick-head had a weave, it was the fact that she was spouting off hair tips and products like they actually produced the perfectly round pseudo-natural she was sporting. I couldn’t help but be disgusted when I left the store and was a lil’ upset at how quickly and easily that something so beautiful, had turned into le mode du jour.”

from Raping Our Image (this article spawned quite a debate that goes on below the short piece)

“In the end no matter how well you prepare your child for having dreadlocks, there’s no guarantee that they’ll receive a warm reception once outside your door. Kids, and some adults, can be openly critical of what they don’t consider “normal.” What if your child has an ugly-duckling stage? dreadlocks won’t necessarily increase her/his popularity or help with self-esteem.

Although you can serve as your child’s backbone the majority of the time, it’s important that if she/he is dreadlocking that you help them develop one of their own before the process begins.

For example, if you live in a crime ridden neighborhood, you’d teach your kids about drugs and how to deal with violence right? Locking may not be a battle zone, but to a child surrounded by kiddie perms and fades, it might seem that way.”

from Keepin’ Up with the Joneses

“African American women’s search for societal acceptance often encompasses struggle between natural and socially constructed ideas of beauty. As an essential component in traditional African societies, cosmetic modification is ritualized to emphasise natural features of blackness. Defined by social occasion such as childhood development to maturity, indicators of marital status or the group to which you belong, beautification of the hair and body play an essential role. In our racially conscious society, presenting a physical image and being accepted is a complex negotiation between two different worlds.”

from African American Hair Styles

“Hair is a serious business. By cutting and styling our hair we participate in ritualistic and creative behaviour which says much about ourselves and our place in culture. Hair is a visual statement whether curled, shaved, dyed, straightened or greased and in the 20th and 21st centuries the hairdresser has moved away from the position of servile artisan to the status of guru. Black hair has always been at the centre of debates about tonsorial beauty. Viewed as ‘problem’ hair in the early 20th century, from the 1950s onwards styles such as the Afro and dreadlocks have signified variously ‘authenticity’, ‘kitsch’ and political protest. This talk investigates the cultural debates over black hair from the writings in Ebony magazine to cultural theorist Kobena Mercer - can black hair ever be ‘natural’ and why should its appearance strive for authenticity?”

from Day of Record: Nails, Weaves and Naturals

More reading (I’m putting some of these on reserve at the library — not sure why the links aren’t working):