How
I wear my hair is my business. Ironically, the commonwealth is
deciding it is now legal for me to do so.
Last
week, Massachusetts lawmakers wrestled over whether to prohibit
discrimination based on Black hair texture and hairstyles. The bill
passed
the state’s House
and is now waiting for a Senate vote, which would make us the
fifteenth state to uphold the CROWN Act (Creating a Respectful and
Open World for Natural Hair.)
Congress
will be making that same decision this week. The House has already
passed
the CROWN Act
in a vote of 235-189 along party lines, which is to say Democrats
don’t mind if I wear my hair natural, but Republicans do.
The
Cook twins inspired Massachusetts’ CROWN Act. In 2017, Mystic
Valley Regional Charter School in Malden banned twins Deanna and Mya
Cook from playing after-school sports and attending their prom
because
they wore hair extensions to school,
violating school policy. Massachusetts Attorney General Maura Healey
stepped in on the twins’ behalf. Healey sent a letter to the
school flatly
stating
that its policy “includes a number of prohibitions that are
either unreasonably subjective or appear to effectively single out
students of color.”
In
a milieu of anti-Blackness, discrimination doesn’t stop at skin
color. It includes our dress style, music, dance, speech and hair,
too. And, our children are being humiliated and punished because of
racist rules and policies that discriminate against their hair
texture and natural hairstyles.
It’s
insulting that Black people are being policed by lawmakers, that how
we wear our hair is up to a vote. And it’s insulting that
racist standards in workplaces, institutions and schools even turned
this into a discussion.
The
criminalization of Black hair starts early for our children, sports
being one of the areas. For example, in
2018,
the video of a 16-year-old African American high school wrestler
forced to cut off his dreadlocks to compete went viral. The referee,
who was white, told
the young athlete that
he would have to immediately get rid of his dreadlocks, or forfeit
the match.
In
2012, Olympic gymnast Gabby Douglas’ hair was the topic of a
ton of e-chatter once she stepped onto the Olympic world stage. A
tsunami of criticisms poured in about her over-gelled
and under-tamed ponytail.
And - yes, that very touchy subject for African American women - her
nappy edges. The complaint reinforced the misperception of that no
put-together and accomplished Black woman with fleecy wooly wild hair
could be happy being nappy.
And,
in 2007, radio personality shock jock Don Imus insulted the Rutgers
women’s basketball team, calling
them “some nappy-headed hos.”
He struck a raw nerve. “Nappy” derogatorily referenced as
a racial epithet, as Imus did, is the other n-word in the African
American community.
African
American women and girls endure some of the most stringent standards
concerning our hair, allowing workplaces, institutions and educators
to discriminate against us without repercussion. Still today,
femininity and attractiveness are integrally linked to long straight
white women’s hair, a lauded Eurocentric aesthetic.
And
Black women are constantly - and publicly - pushing away from it.
In
2021, NBC Boston anchor Latoyia Edwards started to wear her hair
naturally.
“For
years, I had straightened my hair as a news anchor at NBC10 Boston
and other television stations, an arduous process I believed was an
unwritten necessity for Black, female news anchors,” Edwards
wrote
for the Globe
magazine.
“This year, I decided it was time - beyond time - to wear my
hair the way it feels right to me. For me, that meant braids.
Regardless of the style, it’s long past time for Black girls
and women to feel empowered to wear their hair how they choose - and
for society to embrace them.”
In
2020, Rep. Ayanna Pressley revealed
she had the autoimmune disorder “alopecia,”
rendering her hairless. Pressley proudly and regally flaunted a bald
head. Pressley, known for her signature Senegalese twists - her
identity and political brand - was criticized as being “too
ethnic” and “too urban.”
Black
hairstyles are not criticized when they are being appropriated by
white culture - especially when white celebrities wear our coiffed
styles. In 1979, actress Bo Derek donned cornrows in her breakthrough
film “10.” In 1980, People Magazine credited Derek for
making the style a
“cross-cultural craze.”
In 2018, when Kim Kardashian posted a video of herself flaunting
braids to Snapchat, she credited
them as wearing “Bo Derek braids.”
While
many African American women today wear their hair in afros, cornrows,
locks, braids, Senegalese twists, wraps or bald, our hair continues
to be a battlefield in this country’s politics of hair and
beauty aesthetics.
Black
people have been in this country since 1619. It’s a shame both
the commonwealth and Congress are voting on the legitimacy of my hair
in 2022.
