How did historical oppression affect textured hair care?

Roots

For those who have lived with the intricate coils, the resilient waves, the vibrant strands that spring from the scalp with a memory all their own, there is an understanding that hair is more than mere protein filaments. It is a chronicle. Each curl holds ancestral whisperings, a connection to lands and lineages spanning generations. The textured hair on our heads carries the very blueprint of human diversity, a living archive of identity.

To appreciate this legacy, one must journey back to the elemental beginnings, understanding that external forces have sought to reshape not only how textured hair is perceived, but how it is tended. This complex narrative of historical oppression, however, paradoxically illuminates the enduring spirit of textured hair heritage.

Hair’s Ancestral Structure

Before any colonial gaze or oppressive decree, hair stood as a profound marker of self and community in ancient African societies. The very architecture of Textured Hair, its elliptical follicle shape, its tendency to grow in tight spirals or broad waves, contributes to its unique strength and vulnerability. In these societies, a person’s hairstyle could instantly communicate their marital status, age, social standing, religious affiliation, or even their tribal origin (Byrd & Tharps, 2014; Patton, 2006).

This intricate language of hair meant that care practices were not simply cosmetic acts; they were rituals of communal well-being, deeply woven into the fabric of daily existence. Ingredients drawn from the earth—rich butters, nourishing oils, herbal preparations—were employed to maintain the vitality of these elaborate styles, ensuring both their structural integrity and their symbolic potency.

Textured hair, in its original contexts, served as a living language, communicating profound truths about an individual’s place within their community.

Severing Cultural Cords

The transatlantic slave trade initiated a brutal disruption of this inherent connection. Upon arrival in unfamiliar lands, one of the first acts of dehumanization inflicted upon enslaved Africans was the forced shaving or severe cutting of their hair (Byrd & Tharps, 2014; Morrow, 1990). This act went far beyond mere hygiene; it was a deliberate, violent severing of identity, a dismantling of cultural ties, and a stripping away of self-esteem. Hair, once a sacred crown, became a symbol of subjugation.

The conditions of enslavement—the grueling labor, scarcity of resources, and lack of time—rendered traditional, intricate hair care nearly impossible. Yet, even in the crucible of such immense suffering, a whisper of ancestral practice persisted. Enslaved women, with ingenuity born of necessity and defiance, found ways to care for their hair, often using rudimentary tools and what little was available to them, thereby preserving a thread of their heritage (Byrd & Tharps, 2014). They braided, twisted, and wrapped, not only for practical protection but also as acts of quiet, resilient resistance, sometimes even hiding seeds or maps within cornrows to aid escapes (Conteh, 2019).

Ritual

The echoes of historical oppression reshaped the rituals of textured hair care, forcing adaptive measures and igniting a profound duality within the experience of Black and mixed-race hair. The imposition of Eurocentric beauty standards—straightness as the ideal—became a powerful tool of societal control, pushing individuals to alter their hair textures to align with dominant norms. This pressure was not subtle; it was a pervasive force influencing social acceptance, economic opportunities, and even personal safety. The pursuit of straightened hair, whether through hot combs or chemical relaxers, became a survival mechanism for many.

Conformity and Its Costs

The drive to conform to Eurocentric ideals had tangible, often painful, consequences. The very products and techniques designed to achieve a straight texture were frequently harsh, leading to scalp burns, hair breakage, and long-term damage (Morrow, 1990; Donahoo & Smith, cited in Don’t Tilt My Crown, n.d.). The time and financial resources invested in this alteration were substantial, often diverting income that could have been used for other necessities (Vertex AI Search, 2023). This period saw the rise of a distinct beauty industry catering to Black women, a complex phenomenon born out of both market demand and the societal pressure for assimilation (Walker’s line, cited in Never the Less Inc, 2020).

While some pioneers like Madam C.J. Walker built empires providing products, their innovations often aimed to achieve the straightened aesthetic, reflecting the era’s prevailing standards (Patton, 2006).

The forced pursuit of altered hair textures became a form of survival, yet it carried significant physical and emotional tolls.

A powerful historical example of direct legal oppression targeting textured hair is the Tignon Laws of 1786 in Spanish Colonial Louisiana. Governor Esteban Miró issued these laws to curb the growing influence and perceived “extravagance” of free women of color in New Orleans (Essence, 2020; reframe52, 2024). These women, many of whom were of African descent, adorned their natural, elaborate hairstyles with jewels and ribbons, drawing admiration and challenging the established social order.

The Tignon Laws mandated that these women cover their hair with a tignon, a simple head scarf, to visually distinguish them and reinforce their subordinate status (refame52, 2024; Wikipedia, 2024). This act of legal repression directly sought to suppress the public display of textured hair as a symbol of beauty, status, and self-expression.

Yet, in a testament to the resilience and creative spirit of these women, the Tignon Laws ironically sparked a new form of artistic expression. The women of color transformed the mandated tignon into a fashion statement, using luxurious fabrics, intricate tying techniques, and tasteful embellishments to create headwraps that were both beautiful and defiant (Essence, 2020; reframe52, 2024). This act of cultural subversion turned a tool of oppression into a symbol of pride, a legacy that continues to resonate in headwrap styles today.

How Did Traditional Practices Adapt to Oppressive Measures?

Despite the overt and subtle pressures to conform, traditions of care never vanished entirely. Family recipes for hair oils and conditioners, passed down through generations, continued to offer nourishment and protection. Techniques like braiding and twisting, initially adapted for practicality during enslavement, persisted as protective styles, shielding delicate strands from environmental damage and reducing the need for constant manipulation (Never the Less Inc, 2020).

These practices, often performed within communal settings, reinforced familial bonds and provided spaces for sharing ancestral knowledge, even when the broader society disparaged natural hair. The intimate acts of scalp oiling, detangling, and styling became quiet acts of cultural preservation.

• Palm Oil ❉ Used for centuries in West African societies, this oil provided deep moisture and shine, often incorporated into pre-colonial hair rituals for its rich emollient properties (Byrd & Tharps, 2014).
• Shea Butter ❉ A staple from the shea tree, its creamy texture offered superior conditioning and protection against environmental stressors, particularly for hair prone to dryness (Byrd & Tharps, 2014).
• Herbal Infusions ❉ Various local herbs, specific to different African regions, were steeped in water or oils to create rinses and treatments for scalp health and hair strength.

Relay

The long shadow of historical oppression stretches into contemporary textured hair care, informing societal perceptions, influencing professional spaces, and shaping the ongoing journey toward self-acceptance. The historical narrative of devaluation continues to manifest in subtle biases and overt discriminatory practices, making the celebration of textured hair heritage a continuous act of reclamation and self-definition. The legacy of “good” versus “bad” hair, deeply rooted in colonial ideology that denigrated natural Black hair while elevating straighter textures, still echoes in certain corners of society (Byrd & Tharps, 2014; Patton, 2006).

How do Historical Biases Shape Modern Perceptions?

The systemic efforts to pathologize textured hair as unruly or unprofessional have deep historical roots. In the 19th century, altering hair texture was often seen as essential for social and economic success, a means to reduce tension with the dominant white population (Vertex AI Search, 2022). This sentiment continued through the 20th century, with significant societal pressure, particularly in workplaces and schools, to straighten or chemically process hair for perceived “professionalism” (JSTOR Daily, 2019; IDRA, 2025).

Studies have shown that even today, Black women with natural hairstyles are sometimes perceived as less professional or competent than those with straight hair, highlighting the persistence of these ingrained biases (Duke University, 2020, cited in Vertex AI Search, 2022). This leads to real-world consequences, including job offers being rescinded or individuals being sent home from work or school due to their natural hair (JSTOR Daily, 2019; Vertex AI Search, 2022).

The legal landscape is slowly shifting. In the United States, the CROWN (Create a Respectful and Open Workplace for Natural Hair) Act, first passed in California in 2019, aims to prohibit discrimination based on hair texture and protective styles associated with race (Wikipedia, 2024). As of June 2023, twenty-three states have enacted similar legislation (Wikipedia, 2024). This movement signifies a broader societal reckoning with the historical prejudices that have shaped hair care practices and perceptions for generations.

Connecting Current Science to Ancestral Care

Modern trichology and dermatology are increasingly validating the efficacy of ancestral hair care practices for textured hair. The structural characteristics of Black hair—its oval cross-section, fewer cuticle layers, and tight curl patterns—make it more prone to dryness and breakage than straighter hair types (Vertex AI Search, 2020). Ancestral practices, like the use of rich plant-based oils and butters for moisture retention, directly address these biological needs. For instance, the traditional practices of oiling the scalp and strands and protective styling find their scientific basis in minimizing friction, maintaining hydration, and reducing manipulation, all crucial for preventing damage to highly coiled strands (Never the Less Inc, 2020; Vertex AI Search, 2025).

This revalidation of ancient wisdom through a scientific lens not only provides concrete benefits for hair health but also deepens the connection to heritage. It allows contemporary understanding to bow to the ingenuity of past generations, recognizing that much of what is considered “advanced” care today has roots in practices developed over centuries. The ongoing natural hair movement, which gained significant momentum in the early 2000s, encourages individuals to abandon chemical straighteners and embrace their natural texture, consciously disrupting Eurocentric standards and reclaiming ancestral definitions of beauty (IDRA, 2025; Vertex AI Search, 2025). This movement is a powerful collective act of self-definition, recognizing that caring for textured hair is a continuum, a living bridge connecting past wisdom to future well-being.

Reflection

The narrative of textured hair care, shaped by the pervasive forces of historical oppression, is ultimately a testament to remarkable human spirit. From the deliberate erasure of identity through forced shaving to the resilient adaptation of rituals under duress, and finally to the contemporary reclamation of natural styles, this journey holds echoes of every strand’s soul. It speaks of a heritage that refused to break, bending and reforming with extraordinary creativity. The wisdom held within the twists and turns of textured hair is not merely biological; it is a repository of historical truth, cultural tenacity, and profound beauty.

This ongoing story is a reminder that personal care, particularly for textured hair, is never truly separate from its historical context, nor from the collective journey of those who wear it as a crown. It is a legacy of resistance, a celebration of identity, and a vibrant path forward, illuminating the enduring power of connection to one’s roots.