The power that our hair has over us has always amazed me. And yes, I said “power”, because for many Black women, if we are to face the world, our hair has to be on point! We will spend hours and big bucks at the salon to keep our mane tamed, swear off anything that involves exposing our crown to moisture, and will be ready to fight if someone happens to tousle our strands out of place. I know you’ve either heard or used the expression, “never touch a Black woman’s hair!”
When I opted for a short hair style in March of 2008, I thought it would free me from that control, but I ultimately played right into the hands of it. I stopped working out and turned down invitations to go out dancing because I wasn’t willing to sacrafice my $65-$80 do to sweat, I regulated my sleeping positions because I wouldn’t be able to restyle if I flattened the curls, and lets not forget the mandatory wearing of the scarf between salon visits.
I left all of that behind for the comforts of the natural. I am raising my daughter chemical free and I thought it was time for me to, not only, put money back into our pockets, but to also practice what I have been preaching; that natural hair is beautiful, versatile and nothing to be feared. As the line from the children’s book Nappy goes, “God didn’t give us nothing that we couldn’t handle.” I keep this line in mind each time a comment is made by a fellow Black woman about how “nappy” my daughter’s hair is and each time they find themselves going out of their way to praise her when each strand is pulled into place. It is my hope that one day, we as Black women will come full circle with this whole hair thing, because for my daughter and I, our hair does not wear us, we wear it!

















{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
I have already joined the movement! I am one year strong and I did not do the big chop. I am au naturale! My daughters have gone natural as well and our hair is so healthy despite the fact that their mother can’t do much when it comes to styles. I must admit that I love it. I have rediscovered their beautiful curls and my hair, well, I ain’t quite found the beauty that hides within but I am working on it! Until then, I will wear my makeshift fro and be happy to be nappy!
Hehehe. I think that is a wonderful thing T.Rochelle! I know that going natural isn’t for everyone, but I’m glad that I was able to rediscover it. I had wanted to for so long and was terrified, not only that I wouldn’t like it, but that I would be judged… and I was by some, but at the end of the day, the majority of people love me bald, including my little girl =). I think I helped her further hold her head up high amidst any comment thrown her way, compliment or otherwise.
Ms. Bar B´s last blog ..Friday Fill-Ins
Yes, we are not our hair. I’m so glad to hear you are passing on this lesson toyour daughter. Years ago, my mother was anti-pressing comb and anti-relaxer when such thoughts were unheard of. She is the reason I have been natural for more than 15 years. She planted the idea and it grew and matured in me.
Honeysmoke´s last blog ..No Tu-Tu For Simone
She was anti-pressing comb?!! Now that was a strong woman =). Congrats on missing out on having to hold your ear down so your mom could get around those edges, hehe. My daughter got her hair flat ironed for the first time last year and I had to explain to her that it wasn’t permanent. It was one of the few times that she didn’t run when she saw me coming with the comb! She is still the queen of the afro puff though and actually requested that I give her a twist-out the next time that she shampoo.
Ms. Bar B´s last blog ..Friday Fill-Ins
Well written post, Barbara! Hair is a big deal in the Black community; men,women and children included. My hair is currently chemically treated because straighter styles fit my preferred fashion aesthetic. For me, hair is an accessory, I’ve worn it long, short, natural, straight, sleek, up-dos etc. And with each twist, clip and plait I’m still Tameka.
On boths sides of the great hair debate, their are assumptions about the person “wearing the hair”. Assumptions that when taken out of the confines of Blackness often present themselves as being baseless. Our fairer skinned sistren go through the same amount of teasing, bleaching, dyeing and coiffing-only without the stigma and attacks on their personal choices.
Hair texture is one of our many differences as humans, and hair styles-natural or chemically altered just one of a myriad of personal choices.
t. allen-mercado´s last blog ..More Summer Fun
Thank you, thank you. Ain’t that the truth about “assumptions”? There is always one attached to an individual’s choice by those who have not made that choice. I think my biggest frustration with that is when we are quick to tear each other down as women before we lift each other up, you know? Like, we have a hard time complimenting another sistah on her beauty because some of the time we are more interested in outshining her. My sexuality is now assumed because of my hair choice! Like you said, hair is an accessory and I think we should have as much fun with it as possible.
Miss Tameka, every single strand and fiber of you is beautiful =).
Ms. Bar B´s last blog ..Friday Fill-Ins
I am have been toying with the idea of going natural, and many of my friends have tried to strongly encourage me to do the big chop. Over the past couple of weeks I have realized that I treat my hair as if it a part of myself.
Just as my arm and my muscles, fit or not, are apart of me, so is my hair. If I were to significantly change its appearance it would be a BIG deal to me.
I honestly prefer the straight styles on me, so I presume I would be highly disappointed if I went natural and then had to press my hair in order to get the straight look. Especially if I wanted that look daily. My hair texture is very VERY tight, so blow drying and flat ironing usually do not work for me.
I am always happy for other black women who successfully transition to non chemically treated styles. Perhaps one day I will join you! But right now I’m continuing to use the creamy crack.