"Natural Isn't for Everybody"...Er?

My crew and I represent a range of looks and preferences,
and we love and respect those preferences! Here we are in
October 2012.

Look, sisters, I respect the fact that "our hair"--kinky, curly, nappy, kinky-curly, whatever you want to call it--can accommodate a broad range of looks, styles, textures, you name it. It's very cool to witness this spectrum of looks.

When some sisters cry, "Natural isn't for everybody," then, I have to wonder what they mean. I just want to throw these tidbits of agreement out there (but I don't think it's what some of them mean):

1. Taking care of natural hair is not for everybody--so true. Some sisters have no idea how to comb, moisturize, style, or otherwise maintain kinky, coily hair. They never had to learn, so learning as an adult is overwhelming for some women who'd rather dispense with the drama of learning. Hey, I hear ya.
2. Certain styles are not for everybody--amen. Maybe a fro-hawk on one lady is not so cute on another. Maybe one woman's texture is perfect for a huge halo of hair to encircle her head, but maybe another woman's hair doesn't kink up enough to achieve the same kind of halo. Everything doesn't work for everybody.

What I really think some of these ladies are suggesting, though, is that sporting the natural texture that grows out of one's head is not for everybody, that some women "need" relaxers. To that, I cry, "Ridiculous!" How can wearing one's hair the way it naturally grows not "be for" that person? That's the way it was growing before relaxers touched it, yes?

To each her own in 2013 and beyond, ladies. You want to loc it up, weave it up, fry it up? Cool. We all have preferences, but let's embrace the diversity we see in each other, a diversity that is just now becoming acceptable in many ways. That is a beautiful thing, so let's respect it and each other.

My Book is a Toddler!

My toddler!

Happy 2nd birthday to my book, Getting Hair "Fixed": Black Power, Transvaluation, and Hair Politics! As I reflect on my 2-year-old, a historical and literary look at the various politics surrounding the afro before, during, and after the Black Power Movement, I think of transvaluation and present-day implications for the concept. Regardless of apparent trends associated with kinky, afro-textured hair these days, it's clear that transvaluation is still very much part of the picture.

As I explain in Getting Hair "Fixed," I use the term transvaluation in the same way that Eddie S. Glaude, Jr. does when he describes it as "a fundamental psychological and cultural conversion from [black people's] socialization as a subordinate people to a self-determining nation."* Indeed, Glaude provides this description in the context of freedom struggles that fomented many Black Power initiatives, and I apply this term to the embrace of afro-textured hair during the Black Power era specifically (roughly the mid 1960s to the late 1970s).

In spite of the historical contexts and current trends, I'm noticing that transvaluation does creep up in discussions surrounding natural hair and transitioning in particular. One interesting example is Zina Saro-Wiwa's insightful NY Times op-doc titled "Transition." (Sorry! There seems to be no way to embed the video!) As Saro-Wiwa explores various types of natural styles and the women who've chosen them, she herself embraces her natural texture and comes to this transvaluative conclusion:

While so many naturals I’ve met are happy to be part of a movement, almost none I encountered consider it political. They back away from any talk about "black power." I can see why a highly individuated movement characterized by joy, self-discovery and health concerns doesn’t at first appear political, but in a post-racial America, this quiet, internal shift toward self-acceptance is, to my mind, the most potent and political act of all.

It's not necessarily an in-your-face, fist-in-the-air approach that makes this growing natural hair movement political or transvaluative. For many women--not all--it is about self-acceptance, which is why it is often so life-changing. Saro-Wiwa notes that going natural changed the way she viewed her whole body, even her diet, and made an initially temporary decision (cutting off her hair) a permanent one. For the naturals out there, do you see your decision as at all transvaluative? Thanks for reading and celebrating my book's second birthday!


*You can find Eddie S. Glaude Jr.'s take on this concept in his introduction to Is It Nation Time?: Contemporary Essays on Black Power and Black Nationalism. Ed. Eddie S. Glaude Jr. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2002. I discuss my use of the term in Getting Hair "Fixed": Black Power, Transvaluation, and Hair Politics. Saarbrücken, Germany: Lambert Academic Publishing, 2010. 5-6.

Death to "Good and Bad" Hair!

Let me start by saying that I’m not going to comment at all on Chris Rock’s film Good Hair. The world has about mutilated that dead horse, right? This isn’t about “Straight and Nappy” from Spike Lee’s classic School Daze, either (although it’s playing in my head right now, high kicks and all). Instead, let me tell you a story.

A woman of a certain age was once describing to me the hair textures of three biracial women she knew. One of them, she said, had hair the most like “black people’s hair,” more on the kinky side of things. Another had hair that was “like good black people’s hair—but better—like a Latina,” and the third had “good hair,” which I assumed meant naturally wavy or straight hair. I smiled and nodded, but I was struck—and slightly saddened—by the enduring idea that a black woman’s hair is bad or somehow lesser. The uses of good and better here imply that a black woman’s hair is naturally bad. And in my experience, it’s not just women of a certain age who use and believe in this idea.

There are women out there who believe the natural texture of their hair is bad for the simple fact that it’s kinky. That’s it. It’s not that it’s damaged or falling out; it’s just nappy hair! There’s a historical dimension to this sense of shame, partly rooted in very old racist ideas about beauty and partly linked with long-standing fashion trends. Both are hard to contend with, but this leads me to wonder: when my sisters look at their nappy roots in the mirror, what runs through their minds?

Back when I used to straighten my hair (never had chemicals), new growth meant, Dangit! I have to straighten my hair again?! After a while, I realized that I didn’t have to do anything, so I stopped straightening my hair. It was intermittent for a while—I might straighten it; I might not—but after a few years it became a firm decision. I noticed that I liked the things my hair did on its own. If my hair didn’t want to stay straightened and downright refused to do so, who was I to try to force it? A very liberating experience.

It’s been an interesting ride. Family and friends alike have ridiculed me, sometimes in the spirit of fun and sometimes in the spirit of flat-out dislike. Here’s one of my personal faves: “What happened to your hair?” I went from having “good” and “pretty” hair—hair that fell mid-back when straightened—to “wild” and “big” hair. (Compare the pics: 2004 with straightened hair and 2008 with hair doing its own thing.) Some people like it, and some don’t, but I’m glad that I got to the point where I don’t care what others think about my hair. It’s healthy and reasonably well taken care of. ;-)

Of course, I don’t expect all sisters to do what I did. Different strokes for different folks. Some people tell me, “Oh, well, you don’t need a perm.” Who does need one? Some women choose to straighten/perm their hair because it’s what they’ve always done. Some do it because they have comb-breaking hair–I broke several combs as a child!—and just don’t have the time and/or desire (in some cases, the ability) to deal with it. For some it’s just more convenient to perm it or wear wigs and weaves. To each her own, but I would encourage my sisters not to base these decisions on notions of “good and bad” hair. If women can be born with “bad” hair, hair that needs to be “fixed” from jump, then countless little girls are coming into the world with a completely messed up sense of beauty. They’re born lacking something because their hair coils up. That can’t be the case; I just don’t believe that’s true. But how many women do believe it’s true?

I love a t-shirt one of my dear friends owns. It reads, “Good hair is healthy hair.” If your hair doesn’t constantly break off or shed a thousand strands a day, then you have good hair, whether it’s nappy, wavy or straight, long, medium-length or short. Wash it, condition it, and trim those split ends. Whatever else you do, consider canning the idea of “good and bad” hair. It’s so passé. Look around: slowly but surely, the world is changing.