Good hair. I mean what is that exactly? And where did it come from? It’s complicated. The simplest way to explain the politics of good hair to those who are not African-American is through the field vs. the house concept. This dates all the way back to slavery. The field slaves were of darker skin, with tightly coiled hair reminiscent of a full-bodied afro. They worked tireless long hours and were the least favored among their fellow slaves. House slaves, also referred to mulattos were favored more among white slave owners. They did not work tireless hours in the field. They were known for having lighter skin and loosely coiled hair, similar to that of the white girls I used to see in Pantene commercials. But my hair wasn’t Pantene commercial hair. It was quite the opposite.
Robina Mekenye, the author
As a young girl, I dreaded getting my hair pressed. I remember sitting in the salon chair. The lukewarm tears that tasted of salt on the beach as they ran down my cheeks; the sizzling sound of the hot comb pressing against my thick, virgin hair; the smell of burnt toast as my mom ran the hot comb through my curls.
As I got into my teenage years, I strayed from struggling to maintain my natural hair, so I opted for braids and perms instead. Although, it took away from wash days and constantly having to worry about setting aside a couple hundred stacks every month to get my hair done, it became a burden- both financially and emotionally. But I felt shame for my short, 4C kinky hair that was too curly for me to tame.
As I entered my early twenties, I became even more frustrated with the notion of the ideal American standard of beauty that had haunted me since I could remember. But I was tired–tired emotionally and tired financially. So, I decided to cut it off.
I decided at that point that I was going let go of the countless hair wash days, relaxers, straighteners the last couple decades of my life to give my hair a chance to breathe. I remember my dad making a call to the barber shop to make an appointment. “Hello, this is Reuben just making an appointment for my daughter to get her head shaved,” my dad said to the barber. He replied, “Okay, is she sick? Is everything okay?” Everything was fine.
In the last couple of years, there has been a strong movement toward natural hair that has been embraced by African-Americans, but throughout mainstream culture. This is an event which probably hasn’t taken place at this scale since the seventies. From celebrities like Lupita Nyong’o to Tracy Ellis Ross to Zendaya it’s been embraced more and more. One thing has become very clear: Natural is the new black.
Since the dawn of YouTube, natural hair bloggers such as Afrobella and Naptural85 have put natural hair on the map by creating content on their social media platforms demonstrating how to take proper care of natural. Fast forward to the late 2010s, where the resurgence of natural hair made a comeback in mainstream media with Afrocentric-centered sitcoms such as “Black-ish,” “How to Get Away With Murder”, “Scandal,” and “Insecure.” All shows mentioned feature strong African-American actresses displaying natural hair; from weaves to wigs to straightened to braided. All television series mentioned feature African-American women who wear their hair at all stages, displaying their hair at various stages within their life. As their lives change and alter, so do their hair textures. They took a leap of faith. Just like me.
As for the girl who dreaded getting her hair pressed–that girl who cried for long, straight white girl locks that flowed swiftly from side to side just like in the Pantene commercials–she no longer envies those girls, nor dreads having her hair altered in extreme ways. I am no longer her. At 25, I know for certain the 4C classification of my tightly coiled hair doesn’t define me. And boy what an amazing feeling it is to wake up in the morning and realize that I don’t have to spend money getting my hair straightened to fit a mold that doesn’t fully embrace who I am as a person.
The exorbitant amounts of money I used to spent getting my hair done used to anger me. Why would I go those lengths just to have long hair? But I know my story isn’t any different from those of other girls like me. Many brown-skinned girls with curly hair have sat in that same chair, they’ve felt the heat of a steaming iron and the brush of a fine tooth comb. We shouldn’t have to cry when getting our hair straightened, feel ugly because we may not feel as “pretty” as other girls. We should feel beautiful. And know that there is no such thing as good hair. All hair is good hair. Your hair is good hair.