I remember when I had slave hair. I call it slave hair because not only is it the hair that slaves where told was more beautiful than their own, natural, nappy hair, but I was also enslaved to it. I couldn't go outside when it was raining, I couldn't go swimming, I couldn't have sex with a man right after I got it done, I couldn't scratch my scalp right before I was going to get my six week reapplication of deadly chemicals, I had to live my life around making sure my naps didn't show.
I had all the arguments against relaxed hair PERFECTED. I would argue with any woman who suggested that my straight hair was anything other than a mere styling option. I convinced myself that I was right and that any woman that even suggested that relaxed hair was some sort of Eurocentric standard of beauty was insane.
I was the same as all the women who rationalize their self-hatred, who condemn me, and who defend their slave hair.
Then, I evolved. I grew. I got strong. I put aside the memories of my grandmother telling me that nappy hair was ugly. I rejected the comments, jokes, and taunts of little boys telling me that my natural hair wasn't pretty like white girls. At the time, I was becoming more spiritually aware, I stopped eating meat, I was becoming healthier all around. I was still holding on to my slave hair. I was terrified that if I let go of my slave hair, that I'd be ugly. I was horrified that if I let go of my slave hair, that I'd never get a job, I'd never get a man, that the world would look at me as something less than human and certainly not beautiful. Then one day, I woke up and I realized that history is prologue. I accepted that my natural, nappy hair was my birthright, that I could be beautiful with the hair that God intended me to have, without chemicals, without the messages that every little Black girl gets beaten into them that tells her to be ashamed of her natural hair. It was only then that I became liberated from my slave hair. It was only then that I became free.
4 comments:
So why do u think that men escaped the slavery of processed hair and women didn't especially you would think that a black man would want his hair natural. especially since the 70's
You're kidding, right? Why don't men wear makeup? Why don't men wear high heeled shoes? Why don't men shave their legs?
No I am not kidding. as a man, a black I am trying to figure things out for the sake of my community. At some point we were all unified and then we broke apart.
Because the perming of hair seems to be acceptance into the white mass. As if the black man has failed his role. That's what I see. But black men have and do some of the most ridiculous stuff for attracting mates. I am not looking for fault. I am looking for solutions.
Scottie, you are an original....I know whatcha mean...thanks for telling it from the perspective of a convert...cuz I, unfortunately,engaged in those conversations with sistas who just were not ready and it was very frustrating to feel the brunt of their defensiveness and the rejection of their own freedom of being here, sensually, on this beautiful planet....You say people don't pay you enough compliments for your art. And, we don't. But maybe, like me, folks don't know how they can do so adequately....
(Males, like children, unconciously and rightfully test a female's mental and physical strength/beauty. If she does not REALLY sensually enjoy her natural hair, males ain't gonna find it attractive no matter her political stance. Females, in large measure, inform the sensibilities of males....Not vice versa.)
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