Roots
The very strands coiling from our scalps carry stories, ancient narratives etched into their helical architecture. To comprehend the deeply ingrained biases that persist against textured hair today, we must first listen to the whispers of heritage. These biases are not new phenomena, nor are they born of ignorance alone. They spring from historical forces, a complex interplay of conquest, commerce, and colonial ideology that sought to dismantle the profound cultural significance of Black and mixed-race hair.
It is a journey that starts in the elemental biology of the hair itself and stretches through epochs of human interaction, each shaping perceptions and practices in ways that still echo in our collective consciousness. We look to the past, not to dwell in sorrow, but to understand the genesis of disquiet, and ultimately, to chart a course toward a fuller reverence for every curl and coil.
Ancestral Hair and Identity
In pre-colonial African societies, hair held a sacred position, far beyond mere aesthetics. It served as a visual language, conveying vital information about an individual’s family background, tribal affiliation, social status, age, marital status, and even spiritual beliefs. Hairstyles were intricate, often requiring hours or days to craft, becoming moments of communal bonding and knowledge transfer. The careful manipulation of hair was an art form, a practice passed down through generations.
For example, among the Himba people of Namibia, elaborate braiding and the application of otjize, a paste of red ochre, butterfat, and herbs, mark significant life stages, signifying connection to the earth and ancestors. The Yoruba of Nigeria utilized hairstyles to communicate community roles, with specific braids indicating a woman’s marital status or standing. Hair was considered a conduit for spiritual energy, connecting individuals to the divine and ancestral realms. It truly represented a living archive of community and identity.
Across diverse African cultures, hair served as a profound visual lexicon, narrating an individual’s identity, status, and spiritual connection.
This deep reverence for hair was brutally disrupted with the advent of the transatlantic slave trade. As enslaved Africans were forcibly transported across the ocean, one of the first acts of dehumanization was often the shaving of their heads. This act served a dual purpose: it was a purported measure against lice and disease during the harrowing Middle Passage, but more insidiously, it was a systematic attempt to erase cultural identity, sever spiritual links, and strip away a fundamental aspect of self.
The vibrant expressions of identity, painstakingly cultivated and held sacred, were literally shorn away, replaced by uniformity meant to signify their new, debased status. This forceful removal of hair was a direct assault on the heritage of the enslaved, a tangible manifestation of the oppressive conditions imposed upon them.
The Architecture of Bias How Early European Encounters Shaped Perceptions?
The conceptual framework that allowed for the dehumanization of African people, including the systematic disdain for their hair, emerged from evolving European pseudo-science and colonial thought. European colonists, viewing themselves on a “civilizing mission,” categorized Afro-textured hair as closer to animal fur or wool rather than human hair. This false classification provided a twisted validation for enslavement and exploitation, embedding a racial hierarchy where textured hair was deemed inferior, unruly, or even “dreadful”. Such notions established a foundational premise for the biases that would persist for centuries.
The physical characteristics of Black people, including hair, became easy targets for this racist ideology. “Look at their hair,” went the insidious argument, “it is more like an animal than it is like ours. That is what makes them inferior” (Tharps, 2021). This early intellectual poisoning, cloaked in the guise of scientific observation, laid the groundwork for the perception of textured hair as “bad hair,” directly contrasting it with the “good hair” of European standards.
The concept of “good hair” arose during the period leading up to the abolition of slavery, equating looser curls and straighter textures with respectability and social acceptance. This was a racialized barrier, setting the stage for future discrimination based on hair texture, often termed textureism.
Ritual
The echoes of historical prejudice reverberate through the daily rituals of textured hair care and styling. As oppressive systems took root, they sought to supplant ancestral care practices with mandates designed to enforce conformity to Eurocentric beauty ideals. This profound shift, forced upon Black and mixed-race communities, became a part of the daily rhythm of life, influencing everything from the tools employed to the very notion of what constitutes “acceptable” hair. It is a story of adaptation, often painful, and of the enduring human spirit’s ability to resist and reinterpret.
The Great Erasure How Forced Assimilation Impacted Hair Practices?
Following the initial brutal severance of cultural ties, enslaved Africans were denied access to their traditional grooming tools and ingredients. This deprivation forced them to improvise, using substances like butter, kerosene, or bacon grease, alongside combs meant for livestock, simply to manage their hair. This period saw the normalization of hair practices aimed at mimicking European textures, creating a powerful external pressure to straighten or “tame” curls and coils.
The very idea of “good hair” became synonymous with straighter textures, a concept directly linked to social and economic advancement in a white-dominated society. This internalized perception created a profound dilemma, where embracing one’s natural heritage could mean sacrificing opportunity.
The pressure to assimilate was not merely societal suggestion; it was often codified. A stark example unfolds in colonial Louisiana with the Tignon Laws of 1786. Governor Esteban Rodriguez Miró, observing the free women of color in New Orleans who adorned their natural hair in elaborate, captivating styles, perceived this as a challenge to the established social order and a threat to white women’s status. These women, many of African descent, had achieved a degree of economic independence and their hairstyles, influenced by their rich cultural heritage, were considered too attractive, drawing the attention of white men.
The Tignon Laws illustrate a direct historical attempt to legislate identity, forcing a visible marker of subordination onto free women of color through their hair.
In response, Miró decreed that free women of color, whether enslaved or free, must cover their hair with a tignon ❉ a plain scarf or handkerchief ❉ in public, supposedly to signify their belonging to the slave class and differentiate them from white women. This was a clear act of oppression, designed to restrict their social mobility and reinforce a subordinate status within Louisiana’s complex social structure. However, these women, with remarkable resilience and artistry, transformed this symbol of oppression into a mark of defiance and beauty.
They chose vibrant, costly fabrics, tied them with ornate knots, and adorned them with jewels and feathers, making the tignon a fashion statement that celebrated their cultural identity and creativity, rather than signifying inferiority. This powerful act of reinterpretation is a testament to the enduring spirit of heritage.
Tools of Transformation How Industries Shifted Hair Care?
The post-slavery era saw the continued influence of Eurocentric beauty standards. The invention of the hot comb toward the end of the 19th century and the subsequent popularization of chemical relaxers offered new means to achieve straightened hair. Entrepreneurs like Madam C.J.
Walker, while building significant wealth and contributing to Black economic empowerment, also popularized products and methods that aimed to alter hair texture to align with dominant beauty norms. Her success, and that of others, highlights the pervasive societal pressure for Black individuals to conform to white beauty standards for social and career opportunities.
This historical trajectory established a market where products designed to “tame” or straighten textured hair became widely available, often at the expense of nourishing and celebrating natural curls. The cultural landscape became saturated with messages that implicitly, and often explicitly, linked straightened hair with professionalism and acceptability, while natural texture was often seen as “unkempt” or “unprofessional”. This has had lasting effects on how product lines developed and how care regimens were conceived, frequently prioritizing alteration over celebration of natural hair heritage.
- Hot Comb ❉ Invented in the late 19th century, this tool provided a method for temporary hair straightening, becoming widely adopted in the Black community.
- Chemical Relaxers ❉ Introduced later, these chemical treatments offered a more lasting alteration to hair texture, aimed at achieving a straight appearance.
- Traditional Oils and Butters ❉ Ancestral practices long utilized ingredients like shea butter and castor oil for hair health, often sidelined by the push for chemical alteration.
Relay
The historical underpinnings of textured hair biases did not dissolve with the changing tides of societal norms. Instead, they were relayed, adapted, and re-manifested through various social, economic, and institutional channels. The journey from overt legislative control to more subtle, yet equally pervasive, forms of discrimination speaks to the deep-seated nature of these prejudices. Understanding this continuation, this relay of bias, is vital to comprehending the contemporary landscape of textured hair.
How Did Educational and Professional Spheres Perpetuate Bias?
Even after the formal abolition of slavery, barriers to advancement continued to rely on physical appearance. The infamous “Comb Test” in the United States, for instance, exemplified this insidious relay of discrimination. Organizations would hang a fine-tooth comb at their entrance; if a visitor’s hair could not be easily combed through, entry was denied. This tool, originally designed for fine, straight hair, was weaponized to exclude those with textured hair, reinforcing the idea that Afro-textured hair was socially unacceptable.
Similar practices, such as the “Pencil Test” during Apartheid in South Africa, where a pencil placed in one’s hair determined racial classification and access to privileges, highlight a global pattern of using hair texture to enforce social hierarchies. These tests, though no longer in official use, left a legacy of internalizing beauty standards and an unspoken pressure to conform.
Workplace and educational settings became fertile ground for the continuation of these biases. Policies, often seemingly neutral, would disproportionately impact individuals with textured hair, deeming styles like Afros, braids, or locs as “unprofessional” or “distracting”. The 1981 American Airlines case, where a Black woman was taken to court for wearing braids and the court sided with the airline, illustrates a legal precedent that hair worn in natural styles was not considered an immutable racial characteristic, unlike the Afro. This ruling underscored the ongoing struggle for recognition and protection for varied textured hairstyles.
The communications scholar Tracey Owens Patton observed that the progressive changes during the Black Power movement eroded as assimilation became more dominant in the late 1970s and throughout the 1980s, influenced by prevalent hair-care advertisements that encouraged alteration of natural texture. This constant pressure placed an undue burden on individuals, forcing a choice between embracing their inherent identity and achieving economic advancement.
The Natural Hair Movement a Heritage Reclamation?
The resistance to these pervasive biases has been a continuous thread throughout history. The “Black Is Beautiful” movement of the 1960s marked a significant cultural awakening, encouraging Black men and women to embrace their natural skin, features, and hair as inherently admirable. Figures like Angela Davis proudly wore her Afro as a sign of Black power and rebellion against Eurocentric beauty standards. This period saw the Afro become a symbol of pride, solidarity, and a purposeful act of defiance against beauty standards that had degraded Black hair for centuries.
A study from 1972 on Black teenagers in St. Louis indicated that 90 percent of young men and 40 percent of young women sported their natural textures, reflecting a larger national shift.
The enduring struggle against hair bias demonstrates the profound resilience and persistent fight for self-acceptance woven into textured hair heritage.
The early 2000s witnessed a second wave of the natural hair movement, spurred by media and social media platforms. This resurgence has fueled a cultural shift, with many individuals of African descent transitioning away from chemical straighteners and heat styling to embrace their natural coils, curls, and locs. This modern movement is not merely a trend; it represents a deep cultural and spiritual reconnection, a reclamation of ancestral practices and a reaffirmation of the inherent beauty of textured hair.
It is a collective statement of autonomy over hairstyling choices, honoring heritage and redefining beauty on one’s own terms. The continued growth of Black identity gave birth to this movement, pushing for greater acceptance of natural hair and styles.
Legislative efforts like the CROWN Act (Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair) in the United States symbolize a contemporary recognition of historical and ongoing hair discrimination. This act aims to protect individuals from discrimination based on hair texture and protective styles in schools and workplaces. While many states have enacted this law, the ongoing need for such legislation underscores the deep roots of these biases and the continuing fight for equitable treatment and the celebration of textured hair heritage. The persistent challenge remains in aligning societal perceptions with legislative intent, ensuring that policies move beyond mere legality to true acceptance and respect for diverse hair expressions.
Reflection
The journey through the historical factors underpinning textured hair biases reveals a compelling narrative of oppression, resilience, and profound heritage. From the systematic erasure attempted during the transatlantic slave trade to the insidious social pressures and codified discrimination of later eras, textured hair has stood at the crossroads of identity and subjugation. Yet, through every challenge, the spirit of textured hair has persisted, a testament to the strength and adaptability of Black and mixed-race communities. The very fibers of these coils and kinks hold not just scientific complexity, but also the living memory of ancestral wisdom, communal solidarity, and unwavering self-definition.
We are reminded that tending to our hair with reverence is not just a personal act of self-care; it is a continuation of a sacred lineage, a quiet act of honoring those who came before us. This enduring connection to our hair’s deep past, its roots in ancient practices and its journey through adversity, empowers us to shape a future where every strand is recognized for its inherent beauty and the rich heritage it carries. It is a soulful appreciation for the intricate story held within each helix, a celebration of an unbound, living legacy.
References
- Byrd, A. & Tharps, L. L. (2014). Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America. St. Martin’s Publishing.
- Gould, V. M. (1996). Chained to the Rock of Adversity: Free Black Women in New Orleans, 1786-1862. University of North Carolina Press.
- Gordon, M. (2000). Afro-American Women of the South and the Advancement of the Race, 1660s-1950s. University of Tennessee Press.
- hooks, b. (1981). Ain’t I a Woman: Black Women and Feminism. South End Press.
- Johnson, K. A. Ault, S. & Ryle, J. (2016). The Psychological Impact of Hair Discrimination on Black Women in the Workplace. Journal of Business and Psychology.
- Long, C. (2000). Casting a Shadow: The Struggle for the Louisiana Purchase. University Press of Mississippi.
- Patton, T. O. (2006). Hey Girl, Am I More Than My Hair? African American Women and Their Struggles for Identity in the Workplace. Lexington Books.
- Rooks, N. M. (1996). Hair Raising: Beauty, Culture, and African American Women. Rutgers University Press.
- Rosette, A. S. & Dumas, T. L. (2007). The Influence of Hair Texture and Skin Tone on Perceptions of Professionalism for Black Women. Journal of Applied Social Psychology.
- Tharps, L. L. (2021). Tangled Roots: Decoding the History of Black Hair. CBC Radio.