
Roots
The very strands that crown our heads, a testament to ancestral narratives and communal bonds, carry whispers of a past both vibrant and vexed. For those whose heritage flows through textured hair, the story is not merely one of biological wonder. It is a chronicle interwoven with the complex historical fabric of colonial imposition, an epoch that reshaped not just continents and economies, but the intimate landscape of self, profoundly altering the heritage of Black hair. This journey through time reveals how external forces sought to redefine internal beauty, attempting to sever the deep connection between textured hair and its ancient roots.
Before the colonial shadow fell, African societies honored hair as a living archive, a visual language. Intricate styles communicated status, marital standing, tribal affiliation, spiritual beliefs, and even codes for survival. The patterns and adornments spoke volumes, creating a comprehensive visual lexicon. Hair was a sacred conduit to the divine, positioned, as it is, closest to the heavens.
It was a site of deep communal care, entrusted only to those who shared a bond of trust, where hours or even days might pass in the rituals of washing, oiling, braiding, or twisting (BBC News, 2015). The textured hair codex of pre-colonial Africa was rich, diverse, and inherently meaningful.

Unraveling Hair Anatomy and Ancestral Wisdom
Understanding textured hair at its most fundamental level involves acknowledging its unique biological blueprint. Unlike straighter hair types, Afro-textured hair exhibits distinct characteristics ❉ a flatter, elliptical follicle shape, a higher number of cuticle layers, and a more pronounced curl pattern that often features points of torsion along the hair shaft. These biological realities make textured hair inherently more susceptible to dryness and breakage if not handled with precise care.
Ancestral wisdom, passed down through generations, developed an ingenious understanding of these very characteristics. Practices centered on moisture retention, gentle manipulation, and the use of natural emollients were not simply cosmetic; they were deeply scientific in their efficacy, long before modern chemistry could articulate the principles at play.
Consider, for instance, the way traditional African cultures utilized natural butters , herbs , and powders to aid in moisture retention and to protect hair from environmental stressors (Historical Perspectives on Hair Care, 2025). These methods, rooted in centuries of observation and communal knowledge, demonstrate a sophisticated grasp of what textured hair needed to thrive in diverse climates. The ancestral understanding of hair care was holistic, connecting the well-being of the hair to the well-being of the individual and the community. This holistic perspective viewed hair not as an isolated biological element, but as an integral part of a person’s vitality and spiritual connection.
Pre-colonial African societies understood textured hair as a profound expression of identity and a living repository of ancestral wisdom.

Shifting Classifications and Imposed Lexicons
The arrival of colonialism brought with it a violent rupture in this deep connection. One of the first acts of dehumanization during the transatlantic slave trade involved the forced shaving of heads. This act served a dual purpose ❉ a crude attempt to prevent lice in the unsanitary conditions of slave ships, and a deliberate, brutal stripping away of identity, severing enslaved Africans from a primary source of their heritage and cultural expression (Byrd & Tharps, 2014; Wikipedia, n.d.). The meticulous styling and communal care rituals, symbols of vitality and identity, were replaced with forced uniformity and neglect.
As colonial powers sought to establish racial hierarchies, the very language used to describe Black hair underwent a chilling transformation. Eurocentric beauty standards, prioritizing straight, smooth hair, systematically devalued textured hair. Terms like “nappy,” “kinky,” or “coarse” became pejorative, used to categorize Afro-textured hair as inferior, closer to animal fur or wool than human hair, thus justifying the dehumanization and enslavement of Black people (Halo Collective, n.d.; Wikipedia, n.d.).
This imposition of a negative lexicon was a subtle yet powerful tool of social control. The once-honored classifications of hair types, which denoted tribal lineage or social standing, were replaced by a binary of “good hair” (straight, European-like) and “bad hair” (natural, kinky, African-like) (Odele Beauty, 2021; Folklife Magazine, 2022).
| Pre-Colonial African View Hair as a map of identity, social standing, and spirituality. |
| Colonial Imposition Hair as a mark of inferiority, savagery, or enslaved status. |
| Pre-Colonial African View Emphasis on natural texture, intricate styling for communication. |
| Colonial Imposition Pressure to conceal or alter natural texture for conformity. |
| Pre-Colonial African View Knowledge of hair care passed down through generations. |
| Colonial Imposition Disruption of traditional care methods, introduction of new, often harmful, practices. |
| Pre-Colonial African View The colonial encounter dramatically altered the very language and visual perception of Black hair, stripping away its inherent dignity. |

Hair Growth Cycles and Disrupting Factors
The physiology of hair growth remained, of course, unchanged, yet the environment and practices forced upon enslaved and colonized peoples severely impacted the health and vitality of their hair. The brutal conditions of plantation life, characterized by malnutrition, lack of hygiene, and strenuous labor, meant that essential nutrients for healthy hair growth were scarce (Wikipedia, n.d.). The communal care rituals that once fostered healthy hair became impossible to maintain.
Hair, once a source of pride and meticulous care, often became matted and neglected due to lack of time, tools, and appropriate products (Wikipedia, n.d.). This neglect was not a choice, but a consequence of systemic oppression that denied even the most basic elements of self-care and preservation of cultural practice.
The imposition of European beauty standards and the economic realities of colonialism also introduced new, often damaging, practices. The later widespread adoption of hair straightening, through hot combs or harsh chemical relaxers, while seemingly a personal choice for “social and economic advancement,” was born from a context of societal pressure to conform to Eurocentric ideals (McGill Journal of Law and Health, 2022; Odele Beauty, 2021; Legal Defense Fund, n.d.). This historical trajectory shows how the very understanding of textured hair’s biological needs was warped by a colonial worldview, leading to practices that, for generations, caused physical harm in the pursuit of an imposed aesthetic.

Ritual
The hands that once braided stories into coiled strands, the communal gatherings where hair was sculpted with intention and reverence, faced a profound disruption under colonial rule. The heritage of Black hair styling, a vibrant lexicon of techniques, tools, and transformations, became a battleground for identity. What was once an expressive art form, steeped in ancestral knowledge and community bonds, was forced into hiding or, worse, weaponized against the very people who carried its legacy.

Protective Styling as Resistance and Memory
Before the transatlantic passage, intricate protective styles like cornrows , braids , and various forms of threading were not merely aesthetic choices. They served vital functions ❉ signifying tribal identity, social status, and even conveying strategic messages. During the horrific journey of the Middle Passage and the subsequent brutality of enslavement, hair became a hidden tool of resistance and survival. Enslaved African women, particularly rice farmers, are known to have braided rice seeds into their hair, ensuring a means of sustenance and a physical link to their homeland’s agricultural heritage (BLAM UK CIC, 2022).
Cornrows, often woven with deliberate patterns, were used to create maps for escape routes, a silent, vital communication system passed down through generations (BLAM UK CIC, 2022). This adaptability of traditional styling to a context of extreme duress illustrates the enduring power of ancestral practices.
Yet, colonial authorities actively sought to dismantle these cultural practices. The forced shaving of heads upon arrival in the Americas, though ostensibly for hygiene, was a deliberate act of cultural eradication, aiming to strip enslaved individuals of their identity and connection to their heritage (Wikipedia, n.d.; University of Salford Students’ Union, 2024). Once hair grew back, the lack of time, tools, and suitable products in the brutal conditions of forced labor meant that traditional, elaborate styles became difficult to maintain (Wikipedia, n.d.). Simpler, often concealed styles became a necessity.

How Did Colonial Laws Directly Affect Hair Styling Practices?
Perhaps one of the most direct and poignant examples of colonial legislation altering Black hair heritage is found in the notorious Tignon Laws of Louisiana. Enacted in 1786 by Spanish colonial Governor Esteban Miró, these laws mandated that free women of color in New Orleans cover their hair with a tignon, a headwrap or scarf (Odele Beauty, 2021; reframe52, 2024; McGill Journal of Law and Health, 2022; VICE, 2018). The intent was clear ❉ to humble these women, whose elaborate, often adorned hairstyles were seen as a threat to the established racial hierarchy and a challenge to white female societal status (VICE, 2018; reframe52, 2024). They were designed to visually mark Black women, free or enslaved, as belonging to a subordinate class, preventing them from “competing too freely with white women for status” (VICE, 2018).
However, the response to these oppressive laws became a powerful act of creative defiance. Instead of succumbing to the intended humiliation, Black women transformed the tignon into an artistic statement. They adorned their headwraps with luxurious fabrics, intricate designs, and vibrant colors, making them even more visually striking and a potent symbol of resilience, cultural pride, and self-expression (Odele Beauty, 2021; reframe52, 2024; Cee Cee’s Closet NYC, 2025; VICE, 2018). This historical moment underscores the deep connection between hair and identity and how even in the face of direct oppression, the spirit of heritage found new avenues of expression.
The Tignon Laws, intended to suppress Black women’s adornment and social standing, inadvertently sparked a powerful tradition of resistance through elaborate headwraps.

The Shifting Landscape of Hair Tools and Aesthetics
The imposition of Eurocentric beauty standards during colonialism profoundly influenced the tools and techniques used in Black hair care. While traditional African tools, such as specially designed combs with wider teeth for fragile textured hair, existed for centuries, their use was often suppressed (BBC News, 2015; University of Salford Students’ Union, 2024). The pressure to conform to straight hair ideals led to the widespread adoption of straightening methods.
The late 19th and early 20th centuries saw the rise of the hot comb (invented by a French hairdresser in 1872, but popularized and refined by Black entrepreneurs like Madam C.J. Walker) and, later, chemical relaxers (VICE, 2018; McGill Journal of Law and Health, 2022). These tools and products offered a path to achieve straighter hair, which was often seen as a prerequisite for social acceptance, educational opportunities, and employment in a society that equated straight hair with professionalism and respectability (Legal Defense Fund, n.d.; Folklife Magazine, 2022). This pursuit of conformity, though driven by a desire for survival and upward mobility, often came at a significant cost, involving chemical burns and damage to the hair and scalp (McGill Journal of Law and Health, 2022).
The impact of this shift is difficult to overestimate. A focus on chemical alteration over natural care became normalized for generations. The very concept of what constituted “good hair” became inextricably linked to its proximity to European textures, creating an internal hierarchy within Black communities (Odele Beauty, 2021; Folklife Magazine, 2022). This division, rooted in colonial beauty standards, highlights a complex interplay of systemic pressure and individual agency in the pursuit of belonging.

Relay
The echoes of colonial rule reverberate through generations, shaping not only the physical practices of Black hair care but also the very perception of textured hair within societal structures. This lingering influence extends beyond superficial aesthetics, touching upon deep-seated notions of professionalism, self-worth, and cultural belonging. The journey from imposed standards to a reclaiming of ancestral wisdom represents a continuous, multi-dimensional relay of identity and resilience.

How Did Colonialism Influence Modern Hair Care Regimens and Standards?
The disruptive force of colonialism dismantled existing systems of traditional Black hair care, replacing them with a void or, worse, with standards that actively harmed textured hair. In pre-colonial Africa, hair care was a communal, time-honored practice, utilizing locally sourced natural oils , butters , and herbs tailored to specific hair needs and environmental conditions (University of Salford Students’ Union, 2024; Historical Perspectives on Hair Care, 2025). The introduction of chattel slavery severed these connections. Enslaved individuals were often denied the time, resources, and privacy needed to maintain their hair, leading to forced neglect and matting (Wikipedia, n.d.).
This deprivation, coupled with the systemic devaluing of Black bodies and cultural practices, created a legacy where traditional hair care knowledge was suppressed or lost. The post-emancipation era, while granting freedom, continued the pressure to assimilate. As Black people navigated societies dominated by Eurocentric ideals, hair straightening became a pervasive practice, often seen as a necessary step for social and economic integration (VICE, 2018; Legal Defense Fund, n.d.). This led to a reliance on new products and techniques that were often harsh, designed for different hair types, and potentially damaging.
For instance, a study by Dove in the UK revealed that half of Black and mixed-race women with Afro-textured hair have faced discrimination because of their hair (VICE, 2018). This enduring discrimination, rooted in colonial-era biases, creates a continuous pressure to conform, impacting personal hair care choices even today. Research indicates that Black women with natural hairstyles are less likely to receive job interviews compared to white women or Black women with straightened hair, and employers have been documented viewing natural styles as less professional (Legal Defense Fund, n.d.). These findings underscore the enduring, systemic impact of colonial beauty standards on contemporary life.
The historical legacy of colonial pressures persists, subtly dictating perceptions of professionalism and beauty for textured hair in modern society.

Nighttime Rituals and the Preservation of Heritage
The nighttime sanctuary for Black hair, often involving the use of silk or satin scarves and bonnets, is a practice deeply rooted in the necessity of protection and the preservation of hair health. While modern science validates the benefits of these materials in reducing friction and maintaining moisture for fragile textured strands, the historical context is more complex. During slavery, head coverings were sometimes imposed as a sign of servitude, a forced concealment of natural hair (VICE, 2018; C+R Research, 2024). Yet, enslaved people and their descendants often reclaimed these coverings, transforming them into tools of self-preservation and a silent assertion of dignity.
In harsh living conditions, headwraps and rudimentary coverings offered practical protection from dirt, debris, and the elements, while also serving to mitigate the damage caused by friction against coarse sleeping surfaces. The evolution of the bonnet from a functional necessity to a cherished ritual demonstrates the resourcefulness of Black communities in adapting to oppressive conditions while simultaneously preserving hair health. This practice embodies a direct link to ancestral care philosophies, adapting traditional methods of protection to new environments.
- Silk Scarves ❉ Historically used to protect intricate styles from dust and maintain moisture during sleep, adapting to available fabrics.
- Bonnets ❉ Evolved from simple head coverings to specifically designed hair protectors, a modern continuation of ancestral necessity and care.
- Protective Wraps ❉ A practice originating in Africa, used to guard hair from environmental elements and maintain style integrity, persisting through generations.

Addressing Hair Concerns Through a Cultural Lens
The common challenges faced by textured hair – dryness, breakage, and scalp issues – were historically addressed through a rich pharmacopeia of traditional ingredients . Shea butter, coconut oil, and various plant-based extracts were central to pre-colonial hair care, renowned for their moisturizing and protective qualities (University of Salford Students’ Union, 2024). Colonialism disrupted access to these indigenous resources and often promoted European commercial products as superior, even when they were ill-suited for textured hair.
This historical shift created a dependency on external, often harmful, solutions. The concept of “problem solving” for textured hair became framed within a Eurocentric deficit model, where the natural state of Black hair was deemed problematic. Instead of nurturing its inherent characteristics, the focus shifted to altering it to fit an alien ideal.
The rise of the natural hair movement in the late 20th and early 21st centuries represents a powerful pushback against this colonial legacy. It seeks to re-center the narrative, validating textured hair in its natural state and drawing on ancestral knowledge for its care (Odele Beauty, 2021; AAIHS, 2021; University of Salford Students’ Union, 2024). This movement actively reclaims traditional ingredients and practices, blending them with modern scientific understanding to cultivate holistic hair wellness.
It is a reassertion of agency, a recognition that the wisdom of the past holds profound solutions for the present and future of textured hair. This ongoing movement is not merely about aesthetics; it is a profound act of cultural reclamation and a continuation of an ancestral relay.

Reflection
The strands that fall across our shoulders, whether coiled tight or flowing free, are not just protein and pigment. They are living testimonies, archives held within the very fabric of our being, echoing the enduring heritage of textured hair. The colonial era, with its calculated cruelties and insidious cultural impositions, sought to sever the sacred bond between Black people and their hair. It attempted to rewrite a narrative as ancient as time, twisting symbols of pride into marks of difference, and replacing ancestral wisdom with a foreign, often damaging, lexicon of beauty.
Yet, what emerges from this profound historical challenge is a resilience that speaks volumes. From the quiet defiance of enslaved women braiding rice seeds into their hair for survival, to the vibrant rebellion of the Tignon Laws that sparked an artistic renaissance of headwraps, the spirit of textured hair heritage refused to be extinguished. It adapted, it resisted, and it survived.
The legacy of colonial rule is etched into the collective memory, visible in the ongoing fight against hair discrimination and the continued impact of Eurocentric beauty standards. However, the contemporary resurgence of natural hair movements is a powerful act of conscious re-engagement with ancestral wisdom, a reclamation of self-definition that reaches back through generations.
This enduring journey reminds us that the care of textured hair is, at its heart, an act of reverence for continuity. It is a daily acknowledgment of a profound history, a connection to the ingenuity and spirit of those who came before. Each gentle detangle, each nourishing oil, each thoughtful style becomes a thread in a living, breathing archive—a testament to beauty unbound by oppression, a celebration of a heritage that time and trials could never truly alter. The soul of a strand, indeed, remains infinite.

References
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- Caldwell, P. (1991). The Hair That Got Away ❉ Black Women, Beauty, and the Civil Rights Movement. In The Black Scholar, 21(3), 39-44.
- Fanon, F. (1967). Black Skin, White Masks. Grove Press.
- Gould, V. M. (1996). The Free Creoles of Color of New Orleans ❉ Race, Gender, and Social Class in the French and Spanish Periods, 1718-1803. University of California, Berkeley.
- Ladner, J. A. (1971). Tomorrow’s Tomorrow ❉ The Black Community in a Racially Separate Society. University of Nebraska Press.
- Parris, L. (2015). Being Apart ❉ Theoretical and Existential Resistance in Africana Literature. University of Virginia Press.
- Rogers v. American Airlines, 527 F. Supp. 229 (S.D.N.Y. 1981).
- White, S. & White, G. (2017). The Slaves’ Loosened Threads ❉ The Politics of Hair in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth-Century Atlantic World. The Journal of Southern History, 83(4), 861-894.