How did colonialism shape textured hair perception?

Roots

Consider the intricate coils, the robust spring, the unique texture that grows from the scalp, defying gravity with a strength born of millennia. This is textured hair, a crown inherited through lineage, a living archive of identity and ancestry. For countless generations across the African continent and its diaspora, hair was never merely a superficial adornment. It served as a profound communicator of who one was ❉ social standing, marital status, age, tribal affiliation, and even spiritual connection.

Before the brutal disruption of colonialism, African societies held hair in high esteem, recognizing its spiritual power and its capacity to tell a story about a person’s world and their place within it (Omotos, 2018). Then came an ideology that sought to dismantle these truths, to re-sculpt perception itself. How did the arrival of colonial powers, with their foreign ideals and systems of control, fundamentally alter how textured hair was seen, both by those who possessed it and by the wider world? The answer lies in a deliberate, systemic effort to demean, control, and ultimately erase the heritage that hair embodied.

The Anatomy of Inherited Texture

The unique structure of textured hair – its helical shape, the elliptical cross-section of its strands, the distribution of disulfide bonds – allows for its remarkable volume and resilience. Unlike straighter hair forms, textured hair grows in a tightly wound, often spiral pattern from the scalp. This spiraling growth creates natural air pockets, contributing to its distinct feel and appearance. From an ancestral view, this inherent quality was celebrated, viewed as a physical manifestation of connection to the divine, as the hair, the highest point of the body, was considered closest to the heavens (Know Your Hairitage).

Scientific understanding today validates these unique biological characteristics, showing how moisture behaves differently on coiled strands and how the cuticle layers present specific needs for care. These are biological truths that existed long before external judgments sought to distort them.

Naming Hair, Claiming Power

Pre-colonial African communities possessed their own sophisticated classifications for hair. These systems were not based on simplistic numerical types, but rather on the visual language of styles, the purpose of a particular adornment, or the ceremonial context of a haircut. A hairstyle might tell of a woman’s fertility, a man’s warrior status, or a community’s mourning period (Omotos, 2018). This traditional understanding was inherently communal and symbolic.

Colonialism, with its imposition of European beauty standards, introduced a starkly different lexicon. Terms like “good hair” and “bad hair” entered the vernacular, creating an internal hierarchy that favored looser curl patterns or straightened hair that mimicked European textures (Patton, 2013). This linguistic shift was a direct attack on textured hair heritage, eroding indigenous appreciation for diverse hair forms.

Colonialism dismantled existing frameworks of hair classification, introducing a hierarchy that devalued textured hair.

Consider the introduction of “textureism,” a prejudice favoring looser curls over tighter coils, a concept directly born from colonial constructs of beauty and racial hierarchy (Malala Fund, 2022). This new naming system, often reinforced by social and economic stratification during and after slavery, forced a re-evaluation of one’s own hair through a Eurocentric lens (Banks, 2000). The language of hair became a tool of subjugation, forcing a departure from ancestral understanding.

Echoes in Growth and Sustenance

Ancestral practices surrounding hair growth and health were intrinsically tied to local ecosystems and communal wisdom. Diets rich in nutrient-dense foods, the use of indigenous plant oils, and careful handling were not just practical applications; they were expressions of respect for the body and its connection to the earth. Hair was often considered a living entity, deserving of deliberate, patient attention (Substack, 2025). The abrupt displacement and brutal conditions of slavery stripped enslaved Africans of access to these traditional ingredients and practices.

They were left to improvise with whatever was available, often resorting to harsh substances never intended for hair care (Byrd & Tharps, 2001). This severance from ancestral practices not only harmed physical hair health but also inflicted a deep wound on the collective hair heritage. The loss of traditional knowledge and resources for hair sustenance mirrors the broader colonial project of dispossessing peoples of their ancestral lands and cultural tools.

Ritual

The artistry and care of textured hair, expressed through centuries of communal ritual, found itself under siege during the colonial period. What was once a celebration of identity and belonging became a target for suppression, as colonizers sought to impose their own aesthetic and social orders. Yet, within these attempts at erasure, ingenuity and resistance often found new ways to manifest, preserving a vibrant hair heritage in the face of adversity.

Protective Styles ❉ A History of Resilience

For millennia, intricate braiding, twisting, and locing served as more than just hairstyles. They were complex systems of communication, identifying social standing, marital status, age, or even a person’s tribe. In some African societies, these styles were practical forms of protection from the elements, while in others, they were sacred expressions of spirituality (Know Your Hairitage, 2022). When the transatlantic slave trade began, one of the first dehumanizing acts was the forced shaving of heads upon arrival in the Americas, a deliberate attempt to erase identity and cultural connections (Know Your Hairitage, 2022).

• Braids ❉ Ancient origins, used as a means of communication and sometimes even as maps for escape during slavery (BLAM UK CIC, 2022).
• Twists ❉ A method of securing hair, often used for protective purposes and passed down through generations.
• Locs ❉ A style with deep spiritual roots in various African cultures, often deliberately mischaracterized and deemed “dreadful” by colonizers (Halo Collective).

Despite such efforts, African people in the diaspora adapted. Braiding patterns, though often hidden, carried on as a quiet act of defiance, sometimes even encoding messages or carrying seeds for survival (Substack, 2025). The resilience of these styles underscores the enduring spirit of textured hair heritage.

Hair as Adornment and Assertion

In many pre-colonial African societies, hair was a canvas for elaborate adornment. Shells, beads, cowrie shells, and natural dyes were used to decorate styles, signaling wealth, status, and tribal affiliation (Assendelft, 2024). These practices were woven into the fabric of daily life and ceremonial events. The colonial encounter, particularly in places like New Orleans, sought to suppress this visual language of beauty and status.

The infamous Tignon Laws of 1786 in Spanish colonial Louisiana mandated that free women of color cover their hair with a tignon or headscarf (VICE, 2018). This law, enacted by Governor Esteban Rodriguez Miró, aimed to diminish their social standing and curb their perceived competition with white women for status (New York Historical, 2022).

The Tignon Laws illustrate a direct colonial attempt to suppress the expressive power of textured hair as a symbol of identity and beauty.

Yet, these women responded with ingenuity. They adopted the tignon, but transformed it into a statement, using vibrant, costly fabrics, elaborate knots, and even incorporating feathers and jewels (New York Historical, 2022). This act of sartorial rebellion demonstrated that while colonial decree could attempt to legislate appearance, it could not extinguish the spirit of self-expression or the deep-seated heritage of hair as a form of beauty and protest (VICE, 2018).

The Shadow of Straightening

The advent of heat styling and chemical alteration emerged as a direct consequence of colonial beauty standards. The hot comb, popularized by innovators like Madam C.J. Walker, provided a means to straighten coiled hair, allowing Black women to conform to Eurocentric ideals and potentially gain social and economic acceptance (Halo Collective). While some historians celebrate Walker’s business acumen, others note that her success coincided with a time when straight hair became a marker of middle-class status, perpetuating the notion that natural hair was “unkempt” or “unprofessional” (JSTOR Daily, 2019).

The widespread adoption of chemical relaxers further solidified this shift, creating a global industry built on altering textured hair to align with a foreign aesthetic. This was not a natural evolution of care, but a response to systemic pressures and a deeply ingrained colonial mentality that continues to impact perceptions even today (ResearchGate, 2024).

Relay

The enduring influence of colonialism on textured hair perception is not merely a historical footnote; it shapes contemporary experiences, dictating unspoken rules in workplaces, schools, and even within families. The conversation surrounding textured hair today is a complex one, a dialogue between ancestral echoes and the lingering impositions of a past built on domination. To truly understand its present, we must reckon with its past, seeking to dismantle colonial legacies and reconstruct a future rooted in authentic heritage and well-being.

Building Care on Ancestral Wisdom

The journey back to holistic hair care often begins with a reclamation of ancestral wisdom, marrying it with modern scientific understanding that respects the hair’s inherent structure. For generations, traditional African communities utilized ingredients readily available in their environment for hair health, often applying them in communal rituals that reinforced social bonds. Shea butter, sourced from the shea tree, has been a staple across West Africa for its deep moisturizing properties, protecting hair from harsh climates (22 Ayur, 2025). Similarly, various plant oils and herbs were used for their conditioning, cleansing, and strengthening effects.

The colonial period disrupted these practices, leading to a reliance on chemically altering products, often with detrimental effects on hair health (Halo Collective). Today, a growing movement seeks to return to these traditional components, understanding that their efficacy is often validated by scientific principles of emollients, humectants, and natural proteins. Creating personalized regimens now involves selecting ingredients that honor this ancient knowledge, such as incorporating Chebe Powder from Chad, known for its ability to retain length and moisture, or African Black Soap for gentle cleansing (Premium Beauty News, 2024). This is not simply about product choice; it is about rebuilding a relationship with hair that acknowledges its biological needs through the lens of inherited wisdom.

The Nighttime Sanctuary and Bonnet Wisdom

The nighttime care of textured hair, particularly the use of bonnets and wraps, carries a deep historical resonance, extending beyond mere practicality. In many African cultures, head coverings held ceremonial significance, indicating status, spirituality, or rites of passage. They also served a practical purpose in protecting elaborate hairstyles and preserving hair health (JSTOR Daily, 2019).

During slavery, headwraps became a forced imposition in some contexts, as exemplified by the Tignon Laws, designed to diminish the appearance of free Black women (VICE, 2018). Yet, even in oppression, these women transformed the head covering into a symbol of dignity and a form of subtle resistance, using vibrant fabrics and elaborate tying techniques (New York Historical, 2022).

Today, the bonnet or silk wrap reclaims its legacy as a protective garment. It minimizes friction against harsh fabrics, preserves moisture, and maintains curl patterns, preventing breakage and tangles. This contemporary ritual connects wearers to a lineage of hair preservation and respect, asserting control over one’s appearance and self-care in a world that long sought to dictate it. The act of wrapping one’s hair at night is a quiet rebellion, a continuation of ancestral practices adapted for modern living, safeguarding not just strands, but heritage itself.

Addressing Challenges ❉ A Historical Echo

Many common challenges faced by individuals with textured hair today, such as dryness, breakage, and scalp irritation, can be linked, in part, to the colonial disruption of traditional care practices and the widespread adoption of chemical straighteners. The “good hair” versus “bad hair” dichotomy, deeply ingrained by colonial beauty standards, compelled many to use harsh treatments to achieve a desired texture (Halo Collective). These chemical processes often led to damage, further perpetuating the idea that textured hair was inherently “difficult” or “unmanageable.”

The enduring preference for straighter hair, a legacy of colonialism, influences hair product availability and societal judgments even now.

A 2019 report revealed that one in five Black women feel societal pressure to straighten their hair for work (Vercida, 2023). This statistic speaks to the persistent colonial influence on professional settings. Solutions today involve not only repairing physical damage through targeted ingredient choices and gentle methods but also addressing the psychological impacts of historical discrimination. This means affirming the beauty of all textures, advocating for policies that prevent hair discrimination (like the CROWN Act in the United States), and celebrating the diversity of textured hair as a source of cultural pride.

Holistic hair health extends beyond physical products to encompass mental and emotional well-being. Colonialism’s insistence on a singular beauty standard created psychological wounds, leading to internalized beliefs about hair’s acceptability (ResearchGate, 2024). Addressing this requires a mindful approach that celebrates diversity, drawing strength from the collective history of resilience. It is about understanding that hair is not separate from the person, and its care is a component of overall self-respect and cultural connection.

The scientific community plays a vital role in this relay. Researchers are increasingly studying the unique characteristics of textured hair to develop products and care practices that truly serve its needs, rather than attempting to change its fundamental nature. This growing body of knowledge, combined with a deep respect for ancestral practices, offers a path forward that honors heritage while embracing innovation.

Reflection

The journey of textured hair perception, from its revered place in ancient societies to its systematic denigration under colonialism, and then its powerful reclamation in modern times, is a profound testament to resilience. Each coil, each strand, carries the weight of history, a silent echo of those who came before. What colonialism sought to diminish—the very essence of diverse hair forms—has, in fact, become a source of strength, a living library of inherited wisdom and persistent self-definition.

The movement towards natural hair is more than a fleeting trend; it is a spiritual homecoming, a collective sigh of relief that resonates through generations. It is a promise to ourselves, to our ancestors, and to those yet to come, that the soul of a strand will forever be honored.