How has textured hair been historically classified?

Roots

The journey of understanding how textured hair has been historically classified is a passage into the very heart of human experience, a narrative etched not merely in scientific texts but in the lived realities of people across continents and centuries. For those of us with hair that coils, springs, and defies gravity, this classification is not a distant, academic exercise. It is a story woven into our very being, a story of Identity, belonging, and sometimes, profound struggle.

Each strand carries the echoes of ancestral practices, the resilience of communities, and the shifting tides of societal perception. It is a chronicle that begins not with colonial gazes, but with the rich, diverse heritage of African peoples.

Before the 18th century European categorizations, African communities held hair as a sacred aspect of self, a profound marker of status and connection. Across the varied landscapes of West and West Central Africa, among the Wolof, Mende, Mandingo, and Yoruba societies, hair conveyed meaning, signifying marital status, age, spiritual powers, ethnic identity, wealth, and communal rank. Intricate styles, such as cornrows and braids, were not merely decorative; they were living archives, telling stories of lineage and belonging.

The earliest classifications of textured hair were, therefore, rooted in cultural reverence and deep understanding of its symbolic capacities. These understandings were intrinsic to traditional life, a language of appearance understood by all.

The historical classification of textured hair is deeply embedded in the cultural practices and societal roles of African communities, far predating European academic systems.

Hair as an Ancient Identifier

In traditional African contexts, hair styling was a meticulous art and an essential form of communication. From the tightly coiled hair of the Mandingos to the looser curls of the Ashanti, each group possessed its own distinct styles, often indicating geographic origins. Consider the elaborate cornrows, the threading, and the braiding, frequently adorned with beads, cowrie shells, or precious metals. These were not just aesthetic choices; they were communal expressions, reflecting shared identity and ancestral ties.

Hair acted as a means of connecting with spiritual realms, believed to channel divine messages to a person’s soul. Leaders, both men and women, often wore the most ornate styles, signifying their elevated standing within their societies.

• Cornrows ❉ Often served as maps for escape routes during slavery, a powerful act of resistance and cultural preservation.
• Braids ❉ Historically communicated marital status, age, religion, wealth, and social rank in various African communities.
• Dreadlocks ❉ In some traditions, like the Himba tribe, specific ways of wearing dreadlocks signified life stages, such as puberty or readiness for marriage.

The Scientific Gaze and Racial Typologies

The 18th and 19th centuries brought a stark shift in how textured hair was classified, largely influenced by European pseudo-science aiming to justify colonial dominance. This period saw the rise of ‘scientific racism,’ a falsified belief system that sought to categorize human populations based on physical characteristics like hair type, skin color, and facial features. These classifications were hierarchical, placing people of European descent at the supposed apex. Scholars like Johann Friedrich Blumenbach, in the late 18th century, proposed a system of five human races ❉ Caucasian, Mongolian, Malayan, Ethiopian, and American.

Blumenbach, while considered a monogenist who believed in a single origin for all humans, still ranked the Caucasian race as superior, reflecting the biases of his era. His work, particularly his collection of hair samples, contributed to the prevailing ideas of race, where hair texture, even more than color, became a key determinant in racial distinctions.

Another figure, Petrus Camper, a Dutch anatomist, is infamously remembered for his ‘facial angle’ theory. While Camper himself was a monogenist, his geometric explanation of facial and cranial relationships was later weaponized. He determined that human facial angles ranged from 70° to 80°, with African and Asian angles closer to 70°, and European angles nearer to 80°.

His illustrations, which often showed profiles ranging from a monkey to an Angolan, then a Kalmyk, and finally a European, subtly implied a proximity between Africans and primates, inadvertently fueling racist narratives. This method, initially intended to aid artists in portraiture, became a tool for racial differentiation, despite Camper’s own stated belief in the unity of the human species.

Ritual

The very concept of ritual, when considered through the lens of textured hair, moves beyond mere habit; it becomes a deeply rooted connection to ancestral wisdom, a living testament to practices refined over generations. The way textured hair has been historically classified has profoundly shaped these rituals, sometimes forcing them underground, sometimes transforming them into powerful acts of defiance. What was once an integrated part of cultural life became, under oppressive systems, a target for control and a symbol of resistance.

Slavery’s Shadow and Hair as Resistance

The brutal passage of the transatlantic slave trade severed many connections to African homeland traditions, yet, remarkably, some hair practices persisted, transforming into quiet acts of defiance. Enslaved Africans suffered the indignity of having their heads forcibly shaved upon arrival, a dehumanizing act designed to strip them of cultural identity and sever ties to their heritage. Hair, once a source of communal pride and individual expression, was weaponized to create divisions within enslaved communities.

Individuals with lighter skin and straighter hair were often relegated to domestic roles, sometimes receiving preferential treatment, while those with darker skin and more tightly coiled hair were forced into arduous field labor. This caste system, based on hair texture and skin tone, served to further fragment and control enslaved populations.

For enslaved Africans, hair rituals transformed from communal celebration into quiet acts of defiance, preserving identity against forced erasure.

Despite these efforts at erasure, the spirit of ancestral practices endured. Braiding, for instance, became a secret language, with cornrows reportedly used to map escape routes. This profound act transformed a traditional art form into a strategic tool for survival and liberation. The resilience shown in maintaining even fragments of these hair care routines speaks volumes about the intrinsic human need for self-definition and cultural continuity.

Post-Slavery and the Quest for Acceptance

Even after emancipation, the echoes of this oppressive classification system lingered. The mid-19th to early 20th centuries saw a societal pressure to conform to Eurocentric beauty standards, leading many Black individuals to chemically alter their hair texture. The rise of the Black beauty industry, with figures like Madame C.J.

Walker, created products aimed at straightening tightly spiraled hair, a response to the pervasive idea that natural hair was “unruly” or “unprofessional” in the Western world. This era saw a complex interplay of self-care and assimilation, where hair styling became a navigation of societal expectations versus an internal desire for acceptance.

However, a counter-current began to gather strength. The Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s sparked the first wave of the natural hair movement. The slogan “Black Is Beautiful” championed the inherent allure of Black features, including natural hair. The Afro became a powerful symbol of Black pride, power, and cultural connection, defying imposed beauty norms.

This was a direct challenge to the historical classifications that deemed textured hair as anything less than beautiful or professional. Activists and artists, such as Angela Davis and Nina Simone, proudly displayed their Afros, making a bold statement of identity and resistance.

The societal perception of textured hair has historically been shaped by its perceived proximity to European hair. Studies, such as “The Good Hair Study” from 2016, continued to show biases against natural hair, revealing that Black women often experienced more anxiety about their hair than white women. This anxiety, coupled with the societal stigma, often led to increased time and financial investment in grooming rituals and hair products. The classifications, whether explicit or implicit, continued to create a landscape where textured hair was subjected to external judgment.

• Shea Butter ❉ Extracted from the Karite tree, it was used as a base for Chébé powder and for moisturizing skin, dating back to Cleopatra’s reign.
• Chebe Powder ❉ Originated from the Basara Arab women of Chad; a blend of natural herbs, seeds, and plants used to coat and protect hair, aiding length retention.
• African Threading ❉ Also known as “Irun Kiko” among the Yoruba people, it is an ancient technique for hair care and styling.

Relay

The continuum of textured hair’s classification is a relay race through time, with each historical period passing a baton of understanding, misunderstanding, and reclamation. The very language used to describe textured hair—from anthropological typologies to modern hair typing systems—bears the imprints of both scientific inquiry and systemic bias. Our understanding now strives to move beyond superficial categorizations, recognizing the profound biological and cultural complexities that constitute textured hair heritage.

Modern Hair Typing Systems ❉ A Legacy of Bias?

Contemporary hair typing systems, such as the Andre Walker Hair Typing System, classify hair into categories (Type 1 for straight, Type 2 for wavy, Type 3 for curly, and Type 4 for kinky/coily, with subcategories A, B, C indicating curl tightness). While these systems offer a framework for product recommendations and styling, their historical underpinnings cannot be ignored. The earliest iterations of hair typing, dating back to the early 1900s, were created to determine a person’s proximity to “whiteness” based on their hair texture.

Eugen Fischer, a German Nazi ‘scientist,’ developed a “hair gauge” in 1905 to assess the “whiteness” of individuals of mixed African and European descent in Namibia. The infamous Apartheid Pencil Test, where individuals who could hold a pencil in their hair while shaking it were not classified as white, further illustrates the weaponization of hair texture for racial discrimination.

The impact of these biased classification systems still resonates. Afro-textured hair, typically falling into Type 4 and sometimes Type 3 categories, has often been placed at the bottom of these charts, fostering a subtle but persistent favoritism for looser curl textures perceived as closer to European hair. This historical context means that even seemingly neutral classification systems can carry the burden of past prejudices. The conversation around hair typing now includes discussions on texturism, a form of discrimination where looser curls are favored over tighter coils.

Legislative Battles and the CROWN Act

The historical classification of textured hair as unprofessional or undesirable has manifested in legal battles, leading to significant civil rights challenges. Discrimination based on hair texture has been a persistent form of social injustice, particularly affecting African Americans, with roots predating the founding of the United States. Historically, Black women wearing elaborate hairstyles, such as those in New Orleans, faced laws like the Tignon Laws in 1786, which mandated covering their hair to denote their perceived slave class status. These laws, while no longer enforced, illustrate a clear intent to control and diminish Black hair as a symbol of identity.

In the modern era, workplace and school discrimination cases against natural hairstyles, including afros, braids, and locs, have become prevalent. A significant turning point arrived with the 1976 federal court case, Jenkins v. Blue Cross Mutual Hospital Insurance, which determined that afros were protected by Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. However, this protection did not universally extend to other natural hair styles.

More recently, the CROWN (Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair) Act represents a legislative effort to combat this ongoing discrimination. California became the first state to pass this law in 2019, prohibiting discrimination based on hair texture and protective hairstyles in workplaces and schools. As of July 2024, at least 25 U.S. states have enacted similar legislation.

This legal movement seeks to affirm that Black hairstyles hold equal value within American society, pushing back against historical classifications that have marginalized them. The ongoing debate, however, still centers on whether certain styles, like locs, are considered immutable racial characteristics protected by law, a point of disagreement between the EEOC and some federal courts.

The CROWN Act represents a critical legal step in dismantling historically biased classifications of textured hair, affirming its place in cultural heritage and identity.

Hair as a Biological and Cultural Marker

From a biological perspective, textured hair exhibits a wide range of variations, from coarse straight to peppercorn hair, a diversity unique among human species. This variation is strongly correlated with regional ancestry. Researchers have observed that more circular hair follicles produce straighter hair, while curlier hair is a result of more oval or flattened follicles.

The dense packing and tightly coiled structure of kinky hair can make it appear fuller than other hair types. Studies are still ongoing to fully understand the reasons for this extensive variation in hair texture.

Beyond biology, the cultural significance of hair for people of African descent remains profound. Hair is a symbol of self-expression, cultural pride, and resilience, acting as a historical record of aesthetic message making. Traditional African hair care practices, often rooted in natural ingredients like shea butter, coconut oil, and aloe vera, prioritize moisture and scalp health, practices passed down through generations. These ancestral methods offer valuable insights into maintaining the health and vitality of textured hair, often validated by modern scientific understanding.

The understanding of hair as a social construct is paramount. While physical characteristics are inherent, the meanings assigned to them, and the resulting societal norms and discrimination, are constructed through social processes. This duality, where hair is both a biological trait and a deeply meaningful cultural symbol, means that its classification has always been a negotiation between observable characteristics and imposed social hierarchies. The struggle for acceptance of textured hair, therefore, is not merely a cosmetic concern; it is a continued effort to reclaim identity and challenge ingrained biases rooted in historical classifications.

1. Ancestral Oils ❉ Historically, various oils and butters like Shea, Coconut, and Baobab were used to nourish and protect hair, particularly in dry climates, providing moisture and sealing cuticles.
2. Herbal Infusions ❉ Ingredients like Chebe powder, made from a blend of herbs and seeds, were traditionally applied to hair to strengthen strands and aid in length retention by preventing breakage.
3. Communal Braiding ❉ This practice served as a social event, strengthening bonds and passing down generational knowledge, with specific styles conveying social messages.

Reflection

The journey through the historical classification of textured hair is not a linear progression, but a profound meditation on how beauty, identity, and power intertwine. From the revered artistry of ancient African coiffure, steeped in spiritual and social meaning, to the stark, dehumanizing categorizations of colonial pseudo-science, and the subsequent acts of quiet defiance and bold reclamation, textured hair has always been more than just strands. It is a living, breathing archive of human experience, a testament to enduring spirit.

Each coil, kink, and curl carries the weight of history, a heritage whispered through generations. When we engage with our textured hair today, whether through traditional practices or modern care, we honor those who came before us, those who used their hair as a language of belonging, a banner of resistance, a symbol of their very being. The efforts to classify, control, and diminish textured hair ultimately failed to extinguish its inherent beauty and cultural significance.

Instead, these challenges underscored its resilience, cementing its status as a powerful emblem of Black and mixed-race identity. As we look ahead, the story of textured hair continues to unfold, written with every choice to wear it authentically, to celebrate its unique qualities, and to carry forward the rich, luminous heritage of each strand.