How have legal frameworks addressed historical biases against textured hair?

Roots

There are narratives etched deep within the very fabric of our being, stories carried not just in memory or parchment, but in the coiled spirals of each hair strand, a living archive of heritage. For generations, the crown of textured hair has served as a profound marker of identity, a visual language speaking of lineage, social standing, and spiritual connection across African civilizations. These traditions, vibrant and resilient, laid the groundwork for care rituals passed down through families, honoring the elemental biology and cultural significance of hair. Yet, this rich legacy, this celebration of natural form, faced a brutal rupture with the advent of chattel slavery and the insidious march of colonialism.

The forced passage across oceans sought not merely to enslave bodies, but to dismantle the spirit, and with it, the cultural pride woven into every braid and coil. European colonizers, with their distorted lens, often classified Afro-textured hair as closer to animal fleece than human tresses, a cruel validation for dehumanization and exploitation. This systematic othering, a deliberate effort to sever ancestral ties, manifested in practices like the widespread shaving of captives’ heads, a violent erasure of identity and belonging. The term “dreadlocks” itself, whispered from the descriptions of enslavers who saw natural locs formed during the Middle Passage as “dreadful,” carries the weight of this historical trauma, a testament to the enduring impact of external perceptions on how textured hair was viewed.

A History of Control and Conformity

Even as the brutal chains of slavery were eventually broken, the lingering shadow of European beauty standards persisted, casting long implications over the lives of Black and mixed-race people. Post-emancipation society continued to impose arbitrary rules, often demanding conformity to straight hair ideals for economic advancement or social acceptance. The insidious “Comb Test” in the United States, where a fine-tooth comb was hung outside establishments to screen out those whose hair resisted easy passage, provided a stark illustration of this pervasive bias.

Such practices solidified the notion that Afro-textured hair was somehow uncivilized or unfit for public spaces. In a related vein, during Apartheid in South Africa, the “Pencil Test” was a dehumanizing measure, designed to classify individuals based on whether a pencil would remain in their hair when shaken, determining one’s racial designation and thus one’s place in a segregated society.

These historical impositions underscore a consistent pattern ❉ legal and social frameworks were employed to police Black bodies, and hair became a primary site of this control. The legal challenges we confront today are not isolated incidents; they are echoes of centuries of attempts to suppress natural expression and enforce Eurocentric norms. Understanding these deep historical roots, the ancestral reverence for hair, and the trauma of its subjugation provides an essential context for appreciating the ongoing struggle for hair freedom.

The historical subjugation of textured hair speaks to a deliberate effort to dismantle cultural identity, transforming a source of ancestral pride into a target of systemic control.

Shaping Perceptions ❉ Early Legal Measures

One powerful historical example of legal frameworks directly addressing, and often suppressing, Black hair heritage surfaces in the form of the Tignon Laws of 18th-century Louisiana. In 1786, Governor Esteban Rodríguez Miró issued an edict mandating that free Black women, known for their elaborate and artistic hairstyles, cover their hair with a tignon, a headscarf commonly worn by enslaved women while toiling. This legislation arose from the discomfort of non-Black individuals who saw these women’s adornments as a threat to the established social order and a challenge to racial hierarchies.

The stated aim of the Tignon Laws was dual ❉ to act as a visual social marker, reminding free Black women of their perceived place as closer to enslaved women than to white women, and ostensibly to prevent them from “enticing” white men. Yet, in a powerful act of resistance, these women transformed the mandate into a statement of cultural ingenuity. They adorned their tignons with colorful fabrics, elaborate knots, and intricate designs, creating new expressions of style and identity within the imposed limitations. While the laws themselves gradually faded from strict enforcement by the early 19th century, the sentiment that sparked them—the desire to control Black hair and its cultural significance—persisted through the subsequent decades and centuries.

This early legal attempt to legislate appearance serves as a potent reminder of how deeply hair is intertwined with racial identity and the long history of efforts to suppress its expression through legal means. (Barreau, 2022)

The impact of these early measures extended far beyond overt legal statutes. They contributed to a pervasive social hierarchy where hair texture was often linked to social standing. Lighter-skinned enslaved individuals, often a result of nonconsensual relations with slave-owners, who presented with straighter hair, frequently received comparatively better treatment. This insidious system fostered internalized preferences, creating what we now describe as texturism and colorism , biases that continue to ripple through the diaspora today, influencing perceptions of beauty and worth.

The legal battles over textured hair, from historical edicts to contemporary civil rights actions, mirror a larger quest for the recognition of selfhood and the reclamation of ancestral legacies. The strands upon our heads are not merely keratin and pigment; they are vibrant symbols, deeply connected to a heritage that demands acknowledgement and protection. Our journey into how legal frameworks have addressed these biases begins with these historical foundations, where the fight for hair freedom commenced in the shadows of oppressive legislation.

Ritual

The path from ancient reverence to contemporary legal protection is paved with the rituals of care and styling that have sustained textured hair through time. These rituals, often deeply communal and rooted in ancestral knowledge, faced an enduring assault from societal norms that deemed natural Black hairstyles unprofessional or unkempt. The very notion of “good hair” became a pervasive construct, implicitly associating straight hair with desirability and acceptance, compelling generations to alter their natural textures through arduous chemical treatments and hot combs.

This forced conformity, a legacy of the post-emancipation era, meant that the beautiful artistry inherent in Black hair styling—the cornrows that could chart escape routes during slavery, the intricate braids that conveyed social standing in ancient communities—was often pushed underground or reserved for private spaces. Legal frameworks, slow to acknowledge the cultural weight of hair, often upheld policies that inadvertently, or sometimes quite overtly, perpetuated this discrimination. The very acts of styling and maintaining textured hair, once celebrated as communal rites, became acts of quiet defiance or costly assimilation.

When Were Protective Styles Considered Unprofessional?

The latter half of the 20th century witnessed a reawakening, a reclaiming of ancestral beauty ideals, particularly during the Civil Rights Movement and the Black Power Movement of the 1960s. The Afro, a magnificent crown of natural coils, became a powerful symbol of racial pride and self-acceptance, a visual assertion that “Black is beautiful.” This period marked a significant cultural shift, yet legal recognition of these expressions lagged.

Early legal challenges, often under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 , which prohibited employment discrimination based on race, found themselves grappling with this disconnect. The courts were tasked with interpreting whether hair discrimination qualified as racial discrimination. A seminal case, Jenkins v. Blue Cross Mutual Hospital Insurance (1976), saw the U.S.

Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit upholding a race discrimination lawsuit, affirming that workers were entitled to wear afros under Title VII. This ruling, however, was not a blanket protection for all natural or protective styles, leaving a significant loophole in the legal landscape.

The fragility of these protections became starkly apparent in the 1981 case of Rogers v. American Airlines. Renee Rogers, a Black flight attendant, challenged a company policy that prohibited her from wearing cornrows.

The court sided with the airline, reasoning that braids were “an easily changed characteristic” and therefore did not fall under Title VII’s protection because they were not considered an “immutable racial characteristic” like skin color or the texture of an afro. This ruling set a damaging precedent, effectively creating a legal distinction between inherent racial traits and culturally significant hairstyles, allowing employers to ban styles deeply connected to Black heritage under the guise of “professionalism” or “grooming standards.” The ramifications of this decision echoed through subsequent cases, further solidifying the legal right of corporations to restrict Black hairstyles in the workplace.

The legal system’s initial reluctance to protect culturally significant hairstyles like braids and locs underscored a deep disconnect from the lived heritage of textured hair, forcing a distinction between inherent racial traits and expressions of cultural identity.

The Weight of Conformity ❉ A Legacy of Burden

The societal and legal pressure to conform imposed an economic and psychological burden. Black individuals often resorted to costly and sometimes damaging chemical straightening treatments, or invested in wigs and extensions, all to align with Eurocentric beauty standards. The natural hair movement of the early 2000s, spurred by greater access to information and a growing communal desire to celebrate natural texture, pushed back against these norms, sparking a new wave of advocacy for legal change.

A Legacy of Unseen Labor

The routines of care for textured hair are often more intricate and time-consuming, a reality often overlooked by policies crafted without cultural understanding. The application of oils, the detangling, the careful sectioning for braids or twists—these are not mere stylistic choices. They are often acts of preservation, practices honed over generations to maintain the delicate structure of coils and kinks, ensuring their health and vitality.

To deny these styles is to deny a part of one’s living heritage, to demand the erasure of practices that have sustained and celebrated Black hair for centuries. These are the practices that form the very foundation of the Regimen of Radiance, passed down with love and wisdom, now seeking full legal recognition and respect.

Relay

The arc of justice, though long, bends toward recognition. The legal skirmishes of past decades, marked by the limiting precedent set by cases like Rogers v. American Airlines, served as a stark reminder that existing civil rights protections were often insufficient to safeguard expressions of Black and mixed-race hair heritage.

The legal community began to reckon with the subtle yet pervasive ways in which anti-Black bias manifested through hair policies, recognizing that these were indeed forms of systemic racism. The conversation moved from simply “hair discrimination” to understanding it as a direct proxy for racial discrimination, a mechanism to preserve white spaces and enforce Eurocentric aesthetic norms.

This growing awareness, fueled by countless personal stories shared through burgeoning social media and sustained advocacy from civil rights organizations, propelled a new legislative wave. The focus shifted to crafting explicit legal protections that acknowledged the historical and cultural significance of textured hair. This is where the CROWN Act steps onto the stage, a vital legislative answer to deeply rooted inequities.

How Does the CROWN Act Address Historical Biases?

The CROWN Act, an acronym for “Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair,” represents a watershed moment in the legal pursuit of hair freedom. Introduced in 2019 in California, which became the first state to pass such legislation, it sought to expand the definition of “race” within anti-discrimination laws. Its core purpose is to clarify that discrimination based on hair texture or protective hairstyles—such as Afros, braids, locs, twists, and Bantu knots—is indeed a form of racial discrimination.

The prior legal landscape often struggled with the “immutability doctrine,” an idea that only characteristics a person could not change were protected by anti-discrimination laws. This notion, rooted in a racist past, ignored the deeply cultural and often physically taxing implications of altering textured hair to conform. The CROWN Act directly challenges this narrow interpretation by legally affirming that traits historically associated with race, including hair texture and traditional styles, are integral to racial identity and therefore deserving of protection.

For instance, a 2020 study by researchers at Michigan State University and Duke University found that Black women with natural hairstyles, such as Afros, braids, and twists, are “perceived to be less professional, less competent, and less likely to be recommended for a job interview than Black women with straightened hairstyles and white women with either curly or straight hairstyles.” This quantitative data underscores the pervasive nature of hair bias, highlighting a material impact on career opportunities and overall well-being. The CROWN Act aims to dismantle these biases by codifying protections in employment, housing, and educational settings, ensuring that individuals are not penalized for honoring their heritage through their hair.

As of 2023, more than 20 states in the United States have passed similar legislation, demonstrating a growing national recognition of the need for these protections. While a federal CROWN Act has passed the House of Representatives multiple times, it has yet to secure passage in the Senate, underscoring the ongoing legislative challenge. However, the state-level successes represent a significant step forward, providing legal recourse for individuals who face discrimination in schools and workplaces. These laws send a clear message ❉ the right to wear one’s natural hair, a right rooted in centuries of cultural practice and identity, is a civil right.

Global Echoes ❉ Hair Discrimination Beyond Borders

The struggle against hair discrimination extends far beyond the borders of the United States. Across the globe, similar battles are being waged to safeguard the expression of Afro-textured hair. In the United Kingdom, the Halo Code , created by a group of young Black activists following the 2020 Black Lives Matter movement, stands as a notable initiative.

This code, now adopted by numerous schools and workplaces, is the UK’s first hair code designed to prevent discrimination based on hair style or texture. It explicitly states that pupils and employees should not be stopped from wearing natural Afro styles, recognizing that hair type is a marker of ethnicity and that policies banning such styles are indirectly discriminatory.

One striking case involved Ruby Williams, who at 14 was repeatedly sent home from a London school because her Afro was deemed “too big.” Her family’s legal action, supported by the Equality and Human Rights Commission, resulted in a settlement and the school’s policy removal. Similarly, 12-year-old Chikayzea Flanders faced suspension for wearing dreadlocks, leading his family to take the school to court, arguing the demand was an attack on his cultural identity. These instances underscore how policies rooted in Eurocentric ideals continue to harm Black youth, making the work of the Halo Code and similar initiatives crucial.

The legal landscape in Canada has also seen discussions around hair discrimination, with cases highlighting the prevalence of Eurocentric beauty standards. While explicit statutory protection against race-based hair discrimination is still evolving in Canadian law, human rights tribunals have begun to address these complaints, recognizing the link between hair and racial identity. These global efforts collectively reinforce the universality of the struggle for hair freedom and the enduring connection between hair, heritage, and the right to authentic self-expression.

• Tignon Laws (1786) ❉ A historical legal mandate in Louisiana requiring free Black women to cover their hair, signifying an early attempt to control racial appearance.
• Rogers V. American Airlines (1981) ❉ A landmark U.S. court case that distinguished between hair texture (immutable) and hairstyle (mutable), allowing bans on braids and locs.
• CROWN Act (2019-present) ❉ Legislation across U.S. states expanding the definition of race to include hair texture and protective styles, aiming to prohibit hair discrimination.
• Halo Code (2020) ❉ A UK initiative and policy advocating against hair discrimination in schools and workplaces, specifically protecting Afro-textured hair and styles.

The relay of legal progress continues, propelled by the persistent voices of those who refuse to allow their heritage to be legislated away. From the earliest forms of resistance to the contemporary CROWN Act and international movements, the journey to secure recognition for textured hair is a testament to the enduring power of cultural identity and the unwavering fight for dignity.

Reflection

As we trace the legal arc concerning textured hair, a powerful truth emerges ❉ the quest for protection is not merely about strands of keratin, but about the profound recognition of human dignity, identity, and the living spirit of heritage. Roothea’s own ethos, the ‘Soul of a Strand,’ finds its echo in this ongoing movement, reminding us that every curl, every coil, every loc carries generations of stories, wisdom, and resilience. The biases we have examined, once enforced by explicit laws like the Tignon Edict and later upheld by limiting court interpretations, were never merely about appearance; they aimed to sever the deep connection between hair and ancestral identity, to impose a singular, narrow vision of acceptability.

Yet, in the face of these historical impositions, textured hair has remained an unyielding testament to perseverance. The shift in legal frameworks, particularly with the rise of the CROWN Act across various states and the impactful Halo Code in the UK, signals a collective awakening. It marks a deepening understanding that hair discrimination is not a superficial slight but a direct manifestation of systemic racism, impacting educational opportunities, career trajectories, and fundamental self-perception.

These legislative victories, hard-won by community advocacy and sustained effort, are not endpoints. Instead, they represent vital milestones on a continuing journey—a relay of progress where the baton is passed from one generation of advocates to the next, each building upon the legacy of those who dared to defy oppressive norms.

The lessons gleaned from this exploration extend beyond legal statutes. They call us to a more expansive understanding of beauty, professionalism, and belonging. They invite us to honor the multifaceted nature of textured hair, not as something to be “tamed” or altered, but as a biological wonder interwoven with profound cultural narratives.

The future of hair freedom lies in continuing to nurture this awareness, in supporting legal avenues that codify respect, and in fostering spaces where every individual can wear their crown—in all its varied and authentic expressions—with unwavering pride. This is how the Soul of a Strand truly begins to unbound its helix, reaching for a future where heritage is celebrated, and bias is dismantled, one liberated hair pattern at a time.