How did policies affect Black hair perception?

Roots

Consider for a moment the very strands that spring from the scalp, not as mere adornment, but as living conduits to ancestry, whispers of sun-drenched earth, and silent archives of collective memory. This profound connection is particularly true for those of Black and mixed-race heritage, where textured hair stands as a testament to resilience and an enduring cultural marker. To truly understand how policies reshaped perceptions of this sacred aspect of self, one must journey back to its origins, recognizing its innate biology, its revered place in ancient societies, and the ancestral hands that nurtured its every coil.

Ancient Echoes of Identity

Before the shadows of forced migration and oppressive decrees clouded the horizon, hair in pre-colonial African societies served as a sophisticated visual language. It communicated far more than simple aesthetics. Intricate braids, carefully sculpted styles, and the placement of adornments like beads or cowrie shells conveyed a wealth of information about an individual’s standing within their community. A glance at a person’s hairstyle could reveal their age, marital status, tribal affiliation, social position, or even their spiritual beliefs.

For instance, a Wolof man’s braided beard could signify his readiness for war, while specific dreadlocked styles among the Himba tribe symbolized a woman’s journey through puberty or her availability for marriage. The very act of hairstyling was often a communal ritual, strengthening familial bonds and preserving shared knowledge across generations.

In pre-colonial Africa, hair was a vibrant communication system, relaying an individual’s identity and community role through its form and adornment.

This cultural reverence positioned hair as a powerful symbol, believed by many African societies to be a conduit for spiritual interaction, connecting the individual to the divine and ancestral wisdom. Hair groomers held a significant place, possessing specialized skills that upheld communal standards of beauty and symbolism. The meticulous care and artistry invested in these styles underscore a deep respect for textured hair as a sacred extension of the self, a living antenna to higher realms and ancestral spirits. It was a canvas upon which lineage and legacy were visually inscribed.

The Textured Hair Codex

Understanding textured hair begins with its fundamental biology. Unlike straight hair, which typically grows downward, Afro-textured hair grows upwards and outwards, often in tight curls or coils. This unique helical structure, characterized by its elliptical cross-section and density, provides volume and allows for a vast array of protective and artistic styles.

The natural state of this hair is a biological marvel, a testament to its evolutionary adaptation and inherent strength. Yet, this very biology, when viewed through a colonial lens, became a point of contention.

• Coil Patterns ❉ These define the tight, spring-like formations, ranging from loose waves to compact Z-patterns, each influencing how moisture behaves and styles are formed.
• Follicle Shape ❉ The elliptical shape of the hair follicle, rather than a round one, dictates the curling pattern and direction of growth.
• Moisture Retention ❉ The unique structure of textured hair means it naturally requires more moisture to remain supple and avoid breakage.

The lexicon used to describe textured hair today, while still evolving, connects to this deep biological and historical past. Terms like “kinks,” “coils,” “locs,” and “braids” speak to the natural formations and traditional styling methods that have existed for millennia. The understanding of these terms, and the acceptance of the diverse textures they represent, stands as a quiet act of honoring ancient wisdom.

Early Shifts in Perception

The initial impacts on the perception of Black hair began not with formal policies, but with the brutal rupturing of ancestral connections. The transatlantic slave trade, commencing in the 15th century, forcibly brought millions of Africans to the Americas. One of the earliest acts of dehumanization inflicted upon enslaved Africans was the forced shaving of their heads. This act served a chilling purpose ❉ to strip individuals of their identity, sever their cultural ties, and erase the profound significance of their diverse hairstyles.

This initial erasure laid a foundation for subsequent generations to view their intrinsic hair textures through a distorted lens, one warped by the oppressive gaze of their captors. The term “dreadlocks” itself, for instance, is said to derive from slave traders’ descriptions of Afro-textured hair as “dreadful” after it had naturally formed into locs during the traumatic Middle Passage. This forced removal of hair was a symbolic severing, meant to alienate individuals from their heritage and deny their very humanity.

Ritual

From the intentional severing of cultural ties during enslavement, the living traditions of textured hair care and community connection persisted, albeit often in clandestine forms. The policies that emerged over centuries did not extinguish these rituals entirely, but rather forced them to adapt, creating a dynamic interplay between preservation and defiance. These ancestral practices, once overt expressions of identity and spirituality, transformed into subtle acts of resistance, shaping Black hair perception from within communities.

The Legacy of Care in Adversity

Despite the systematic attempts to dismantle African cultural practices, enslaved people found ingenious ways to maintain aspects of their hair traditions. They used whatever was available to them, often concocting remedies from natural elements found in their new surroundings. These acts of hair care became intimate, communal rituals, often performed in secret, preserving a sliver of dignity and connection to their past.

For instance, historical accounts suggest that some enslaved African women, particularly rice farmers, braided rice seeds into their hair as a means of survival, effectively transferring vital resources and symbols of their homeland. These covert acts were not just about practical sustenance; they were profound statements of self-preservation and ancestral remembrance.

The communal grooming that was so central to pre-colonial African societies continued in the diaspora. These moments, perhaps under the shroud of night or in hushed whispers, became spaces for storytelling, shared wisdom, and the quiet transmission of cultural memory. Hair braiding, twisting, and oiling rituals became ceremonial acts, passed down from elder to youth, allowing for the continuation of a sacred legacy. The wisdom of natural ingredients, like those found in the Caribbean or American South, became intertwined with inherited knowledge of scalp health and hair growth, forming the bedrock of holistic care practices that would continue for generations.

Hair practices, even under duress, became intimate community rituals, preserving dignity and cultural ties.

Shifting Standards and the Rise of Alteration

The late 18th century saw the emergence of the first official policies directly targeting Black hair. In New Orleans, a law known as the Tignon Laws was implemented in 1786. This edict demanded that Creole women of color, known for their elaborate hairstyles adorned with feathers and jewels, cover their hair with a tignon (a headscarf). The stated purpose was to signify their status as members of the enslaved class, regardless of whether they were free or enslaved, and to supposedly prevent them from “enticing white men”.

This policy represents a stark example of how societal norms, driven by racial hierarchies, were codified to diminish Black women’s perceived beauty and social standing. Yet, even in the face of this oppression, these women found agency. They crafted colorful and ornate headwraps, transforming a tool of subjugation into a new form of cultural expression and resistance. The Tignon Laws, while no longer formally enforced by the early 1800s, left an indelible mark, laying a foundation for the concept that Black hair, in its natural state, was somehow “unacceptable” or required modification to conform to dominant societal norms.

The 19th and early 20th centuries witnessed the pervasive influence of European beauty standards, associating straightened hair with “civility” and “respectability”. This period saw a boom in products designed to alter Black hair texture. Innovators like Madame C.J. Walker and Annie Malone built historic wealth by developing hair care solutions, including early chemical relaxers and hot combs.

While these products offered a path to conformity and sometimes even economic mobility within Black communities, their widespread adoption was also a response to societal pressure to align with Eurocentric ideals. The advertising of these products often framed natural Black hair as “difficult to manage” or “time-consuming,” subtly reinforcing harmful perceptions.

The push for straightened hair became a social expectation, impacting decisions about appearance for economic and social acceptance. This period established a “lexicon of hair textures” where straighter hair or looser curls became synonymous with “good hair,” a concept deeply tied to proximity to whiteness.

Relay

The echoes of historical policies reverberate into the present, shaping contemporary perceptions of textured hair and the ongoing fight for hair autonomy. The legal battles and societal shifts of recent decades directly demonstrate how past restrictions continue to influence Black and mixed-race experiences, making the connection to ancestral practices even more poignant.

The Civil Rights Era and the Afro

The mid-20th century, particularly the 1960s, marked a significant turning point in the perception of Black hair. The “Black is Beautiful” movement, a cultural expression of the broader Civil Rights Movement, encouraged Black individuals to affirm their natural features, including their hair, as inherently admirable. The Afro hairstyle became a powerful symbol of pride, cultural connection, and defiance against Eurocentric beauty standards.

Icons like Angela Davis and members of the Black Panther Party popularized the Afro as a political statement, a visual declaration of self-acceptance and solidarity with African roots. This period represented a conscious rejection of the previously internalized devaluation of natural hair, asserting its beauty and cultural significance.

Even with this cultural shift, the legal landscape was slow to adapt. While the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibited employment discrimination based on race, it did not explicitly protect hair texture or culturally significant hairstyles. The earliest cases addressing natural hair discrimination appeared in the 1970s. In the 1976 case of Jenkins v.

Blue Cross Mutual Hospital Insurance, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit upheld a race discrimination lawsuit, agreeing that employees were entitled to wear Afros under Title VII. This was a step, but the legal interpretations of “race” often hinged on “immutable characteristics,” creating a loophole for discrimination against styles deemed “mutable” or changeable.

Policy Puzzles in the Workplace and Schools

The tension between cultural expression and workplace or school policies became a recurring theme. A notable example occurred in 1981, when a Black woman sued American Airlines because the company required her to remove her braids. The court sided with the airline, reasoning that braids were not an “immutable racial characteristic” like the Afro.

This ruling set a precedent, allowing employers to dictate hairstyles, even when those styles were culturally significant or necessary for hair health. Less than a decade later, this precedent was used to force Cheryl Tatum to resign from Hyatt Regency for wearing cornrows.

Such instances highlight a system that, while claiming neutrality, disproportionately affected Black individuals. Policies often reflected Eurocentric beauty standards, labeling traditional Black hairstyles as “unprofessional,” “unruly,” or “unkempt”. This perception is not merely subjective; research suggests a tangible bias.

A 2020 study, published in Social Psychological and Personality Science, found that Black women with natural hairstyles, such as curly Afros, braids, or twists, were often perceived as less professional than Black women with straightened hair, especially in industries with conservative appearance norms. In one experiment, job candidates with natural hair received lower scores on professionalism and competence and were less frequently recommended for interviews.

Discriminatory policies often labeled natural Black hairstyles as unprofessional, reflecting ingrained Eurocentric beauty standards.

This bias extends into educational settings. School dress codes have long been a flashpoint for hair discrimination, leading to disciplinary actions, social ostracization, and psychological distress for Black students.

1. Ruby Williams (2017) ❉ A 15-year-old in the UK, was repeatedly sent home from school because her natural Afro was deemed “too big” and “blocking other pupils from seeing the whiteboard.” Her family fought for three years, eventually winning an £8,500 settlement. This case resulted in new guidance in the UK, stating pupils should not face disciplinary action for wearing natural hairstyles.
2. Darryl George (2023) ❉ A high school student in Texas, faced repeated suspension for wearing his hair in locs tied atop his head, which administrators claimed violated the school’s dress code. This case brought national attention to the ongoing struggle against discriminatory school policies.

These policies forced Black children to choose between their education and their cultural identity, exposing them to skin damage from straightening creams and dyes to conform. A study published in the journal Body Image reported that “negative experiences related to hair are normative for young Black girls,” with girls as young as 10 reporting teasing and unwanted hair touching.

The CROWN Act and Its Horizon

The fight against hair discrimination has gained momentum with the introduction of the CROWN Act (“Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair”). Spearheaded by organizations like the CROWN Coalition (founded by Dove, the National Urban League, Color of Change, and the Western Center for Law & Poverty), this legislation aims to explicitly prohibit race-based hair discrimination. California passed the first CROWN Act in 2019, defining race in anti-discrimination statutes to include traits historically associated with race, such as hair texture and protective hairstyles like braids, locs, and twists.

As of September 2024, 27 states and Washington, D.C. have passed CROWN laws. While there have been efforts to pass a federal CROWN Act, it has not yet become law at the national level.

The CROWN Act recognizes that hair can be a declaration of personal identity and a symbol of heritage and ancestry. It directly challenges the historical loophole in civil rights laws that allowed discrimination against “mutable” hairstyles, affirming that discrimination based on hair texture and culturally significant styles is indeed racial discrimination.

Despite these legislative advancements, challenges remain. Research by Dove indicates that nearly half of Black or mixed-race women have experienced race-based hair discrimination, and one in four Black adults have been sent home from work or faced disciplinary action because of their natural hair. More than half of Black children have been sent home from school for wearing their hair naturally or in a protective style. These statistics lay bare the continuing struggle and the deep-seated impact of policies, formal and informal, on the perception of Black hair.

Reflection

The journey of textured hair, from its revered place in ancient African societies to its contemporary reclamation, embodies a profound meditation on heritage and resilience. Policies, whether explicit laws like the Tignon Edicts or implicit societal norms upheld through advertising and school dress codes, have persistently sought to define, control, or diminish the perception of Black hair. Yet, against every tide of imposed conformity, the coils and kinks have maintained their innate dignity, serving as a powerful, living archive of cultural memory.

The ‘Soul of a Strand’ ethos, then, asks us to perceive hair not as a mere physical attribute, but as a spiritual and historical landscape. Each curve holds the wisdom of ancestors who braided sustenance into their tresses, the defiance of those who shaped their crowns as symbols of liberation, and the unwavering spirit of generations who nurtured health despite pervasive prejudice. Recognizing the enduring impact of discriminatory policies compels us to look deeper, past surface aesthetics, to the profound narratives etched within each hair follicle.

This deeper seeing reveals how an understanding of our ancestral past illuminates our present, guiding us toward a future where hair is universally celebrated for its innate beauty and its rich, undeniable lineage. The fight for hair freedom is, at its heart, a continuation of the unwavering quest for self-acceptance and the honoring of a legacy that flows through generations.