Don’t Touch My Hair.

I cannot think of anything that has been scrutinized, politicized, or criticized like a Black woman and her hair. Don’t believe me? More than 20% of Black women ages 25-34 have been sent home from work because of their hair.¹ In total, 44% of Black women under the age of 34 feel they should have a headshot with straight hair.¹ In my hospital headshot, I’m rocking a twist out, y’all! Ha! In all, 100% of Black girls who experience hair-based discrimination in elementary school experience it by age 10.¹ Whew. Let that sink in. My hair has been a part of me; my crown and glory for as long as I can remember. It’s always been there. And ya know what? I had no idea long hair among Black girls held any significance until others told me so. As a little girl and even as I grown woman, I kind of live in my own world. For the most part, I walk around oblivious to what others think about me unless I’m blatantly told. I’m honestly too busy considering what I think about me; what God thinks about me. But when it comes to this hair? Oh yes, people have had plenty to say. My real life comments section blew up well before social media. 

Being a Black girl with long hair in the 90s was no small feat. The experience drew so much attention back then and, at least for me, it was unwanted. Before the natural hair movement, there were fewer of us with hair beyond our mid-backs and that existence just felt so exclusive. To set the stage, I grew up at a time when Just for Me perms were all the rave and Black girls were getting that creamy crack slathered on well before the age of 5. The natural hair movement had not yet begun and we were somewhere between our Black and Proud afros and futuristic wash and go’s. My hair story was unique because my Mom was super intentional about NOT perming my hair. She wanted to give it a chance to grow and stretch and reach its full potential. She nourished and grew it on her own with her dazzling cornrow, twist, and colorful barrette styles. You could tell she took such great pride in her work. Thank you, M! I use the word “unique” because most Black women do not know how to cornrow or twist. Even fewer Black women knew how to care for Black hair prior to the natural hair movement. No shaming here! It’s more than ok, ladies. I’m just explaining and setting the stage for my “othering” experience at the time. If you want to learn, I have a cornrow tutorial here and a flat twist tutorial here.   

My Mom cared so much for my hair that she stopped doing it when I was 10 years old just so I was forced to learn. She let me practice on her and my dolls and before you know it, I was cornrowing, flat twisting, you name it like a pro. I did end up getting a perm when I was 10. I had a bit of an identity crisis growing up in Cobb County. My hair had reached waist length by then. At 16, I was cognizant of how my hair would likely be way healthier in its natural state. I grew out my perm right before the natural hair movement. I’ve been changing it up with the length and cut—sometimes on purpose and sometimes not—ever since. With all the changes I’ve managed with my hair, I definitely have not been able to do so in peace or alone. It feels like there have always been unsolicited remarks about:

The Authenticity. The girls at church were the worst. “She thinks she’s cute.” Yep, I’m stunning. So many around me were butt hurt I did not wear weave and that my Mom changed up my hairstyle every 2 weeks with barrettes that matched each outfit. No, I did not brag or antagonize them. Again, oblivious. Living in my own world. One girl at church even created a rumor that my hair was fake and spread it around our age group. I ran up on her in the bathroom and she quickly apologized. Ha! I had a grown adult (also at church) literally reach one hand into my scalp one Sunday to feel for tracks. Is that any better than being touched and pet by white folks like a caged zoo animal? I don’t know. Can you imagine? I laughed it off as an attempt to respect my elders, but really? Talking is one thing, but TOUCHING?! Bruh. Solange really was on to something when she told y’all don’t touch my hair. Literally. Speaking of Knowles royalty, I can understand Beyonce’s “Church Girl” record more than y’all know. I can count on one hand the church girls who were kind to me and came to my defense around that specific time. We are good and grown now and even though those women may have forgotten their acts of kindness, I never will. 

The Texture. Black hair for some Black women is coarse. There is nothing wrong with that. It doesn’t have to blow in the wind. Sometimes I got questions from white peers at school about whether or not I would perm my hair before middle school. It wasn’t so much their comments that made me yearn for a different look. It was predominately me. I was 10 going on 11 and I wanted to appear more mature. I wanted to ditch the hair bows and adopt claw clips. Tia and Tamera had done so. On ‘Sister Sister,’ they had straight hair, boyfriends, AND roadtrips to FreakNik. Why not me? I wanted to run my fingers through my hair and twirl it around my finger during class. The funny thing is the first time I tried to run my fingers through my hair post-perm, they still got caught! Ha! I’ve had men tell me I look better with straight hair. Honestly, no one asked y’all! Only one man I dated told me he loves my hair natural. You know who you are. Thank you. 

The Thickness. I’ve had hairdressers say my hair is too much and want to charge me an arm and a leg to do it. I think my Grandma’s hair stylist at the time also got hip that she would make way more money off me if I got a perm as opposed to staying natural with her managing my trims every once in a while. I think she was tired of my hair breaking her combs when I did go see her. Even she started asking, “When is Anya coming in for her perm?” This same woman said she doesn’t do natural hair anymore when I decided to grow out my perm 6 years later. Haven’t seen her since lol! I’m sure she either adjusted or retired when, 1-2 years later, most other Black women started growing out their perms too. I’ve had peers try to shame me for perming my hair. “I told her to keep it curly.” First of all, you can make a suggestion, but when it comes to my person, you don’t tell me nothing! I’ve had parents of girls just a few years younger than me comment on how my hair got a bit thinner with the perm. They would say in front of me they’re glad their daughters didn’t get one. So you gon’ just use me as a cautionary tale in front of me?! My hair was still long and healthy at the time. The audacity.

The Length. Y’all, these statements are insane. So many have tried to knock me down a peg, using my hair in the attempt. “Wow, Anya. Look at her hair. It’s way longer than yours. I think she’s got you beat.” Well Sis, if it’s longer than mine, then it’s absolutely longer than yours too. And what?! Why are we comparing the amount of keratin one person has over another? Stop it. Nowadays when I do straighten my hair, I wear it in curls so no one gets to see, appreciate, or criticize the real length. After all the unwanted input I’ve endured, this act of resistance is a form of protection and a way to keep something just to myself, just for me. Yep, keep assuming my hair stops at my upper back or whatever. It shouldn’t matter anyway.

Y’all it is disheartening that most of these comments have come from Black women. Sisters, sometimes we can stand to do better loving on and being kind to one another. Having long hair has been an incredibly invasive experience. In the Black community, my hair often feels like “our hair;” like some science project everyone around me gets to help oversee. My Mom likes to joke I failed “Works Well with Others” in kindergarten. Well, that tracks because I hate group projects and I BEEN broke up with the idea my hair is one of them. Funnily enough, no one at any of my workplaces has ever made negative comments about my hair. I think they knew better lol! BUT if someone makes an attempt on yours, definitely read more about the the Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair (CROWN) Act. This act was created in 2019 by Dove, the Crown Coalition, and LA County Supervisor of the Second District, Holly J. Mitchell—a Black woman with microlocs. This act has been signed into law by multiple states and protects us from discrimination based on race-specific hairstyles surrounding texture and protective styling. If the law is not yet implemented in your state, definitely consider signing this petition. 

Throughout the years, the keratin that comes from my scalp has caused quite the commotion. I have always been me and done me no matter what others are saying and doing. Still, I would like to do that in peace. Because more Black women have learned how to nurture and, therefore, grow their hair, being a Black girl with long hair is less of an anomaly. The commentary has decreased, but it has not ceased completely. I reserve the right to change my hair, grow my hair, trim my hair, braid my hair, twist my hair, bead my hair, get creative with my hair without negativity or invasion. A simple, “yesss girl!” is ok or…[groundbreaking]…nothing at all. Comments and input are not always warranted or wanted, y’all. I want to encourage y’all to love your crown, use it to express yourself, change it up if you want or not at all. Black hair is Beautiful. Black hair is to be admired, but it is not up for anyone’s scrutiny or judgement. Respect it. Appreciate it. And move on. 

My hair journey has had its twists and turns, its ups and downs. I will say I’m incredibly happy with where it is now. It took a while for me to get to this space after growing out my perm, neglecting trims, and losing a little length. It’s healthy. It’s growing. It’s thriving. My hair is mine and mine alone. The comments may or may not continue. Time will tell. Folks can talk if they must, but when it comes to this hair, oh you BET not touch it.

Source: ¹JOY Collective. C.R.O.W.N. Research Study. (2019). Retrieved from https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5edc69fd622c36173f56651f/t/5edeaa2fe5ddef345e087361/1591650865168/Dove_research_brochure2020_FINAL3.pdf.

xx,

Photos by Tina Smith