Good and Bad Hair. Pt. 1
"You have good hair." She said while staring at me. The girl was brown-skinned, short, and wide-eyed.
"What?" I said, pretending to be completely ignorant of what that meant.
"I said you have good hair, so why you got dreads?"
No matter how many times I am asked this question, I dread answering it. The reasons are as long as my dangling locks, but I'll just focus on a few.
Firstly, my response to this statement, "You have good hair, so why you got dreads" depends on who making the statement. If it is another African American woman, depending on her tone, I can tell whether or not I should lie or slightly blur the truth. Sometimes I do not respond but nod in silence, which she sees as my total agreement. Sometimes, I explain that I had them all my life and I am used to having locks, but sometimes I just listen. As I stand or sit in silence, I listen to the numerous comments on why I am knocking on the door of insanity to have dread locks.
"I don't know why the hell she dreaded something so damn good."
"I gotta perm my shit, but that bitch got the goods already."
"That can't be her real hair. That's weave."
"I can see her wig tracks!"
"We should jump her and cut her shit off to see for real."
All these statements can be justified and affirms my obvious sanity in the African American communities that I have lived in. The insanity is that I am matting my hair with kinks (making it nappy) and wasting all my "good" hair that is slightly straighter than the average African American girl who uses a relaxer. When the initial repulsion stops and their comments subside, some girls actually try to make sense of it all.
"Well, she is lighter, so she must be mixed with something. Cause there just ain't no way, that all of that is all black."
"Right, and you only suppose to dread your hair when it is nappy, not when it is good. Maybe it's a new style."
As I twist my hair into a neat bun and brush my black waves down, I hope that this will draw less attention. Wrong. Whether positive or negative, people pepper me with comments. And I get the usual (jealous) glares from other African American girls and sometimes other races as well (other races have been a more recent phenomenon).
I used to long for kinks, curls, naps, and Afros because at least then the confusion would stop. I could say, yes I am Black--See look at my hair. Yes I have African heritage--See look at my dark-chocolate skin. And yes, I am proud just like you. But, when I was a child I "just had to be mixed" and that meant that I was a target for those who weren't.
People have told me that I look Brazilian (Morehna, Bahiana) Latina (Mulatto), Mixed (with black and white), Indian, and some even say Middle Eastern. Now, even though all of these labels are incorrect (biologically)they were strictly made by other girls (some of them friends) who simply looked at my skin color and hair. I also noticed that these cultures bombarded girls with comments on skin tones and hair types (both positive and negative). I am especially interested in the Blond, Brunette, and Red-head stereotypes in America. And so I wonder how the concept of "good and bad hair" in the African American community all started. Maybe it links to the history of slavery of Africans in an European-American country, maybe it doesn't. But it involves self-hate and that is something that we can all relate to.
Those who perpetuate these stereotypes of good and bad hair (mentally and verbally) are the victims of a history of white supremacy and oppression. But aren't we all victims of history in this country? In this world? And by picking out trivial things like hair, shows that we have a long way to go...
"What?" I said, pretending to be completely ignorant of what that meant.
"I said you have good hair, so why you got dreads?"
No matter how many times I am asked this question, I dread answering it. The reasons are as long as my dangling locks, but I'll just focus on a few.
Firstly, my response to this statement, "You have good hair, so why you got dreads" depends on who making the statement. If it is another African American woman, depending on her tone, I can tell whether or not I should lie or slightly blur the truth. Sometimes I do not respond but nod in silence, which she sees as my total agreement. Sometimes, I explain that I had them all my life and I am used to having locks, but sometimes I just listen. As I stand or sit in silence, I listen to the numerous comments on why I am knocking on the door of insanity to have dread locks.
"I don't know why the hell she dreaded something so damn good."
"I gotta perm my shit, but that bitch got the goods already."
"That can't be her real hair. That's weave."
"I can see her wig tracks!"
"We should jump her and cut her shit off to see for real."
All these statements can be justified and affirms my obvious sanity in the African American communities that I have lived in. The insanity is that I am matting my hair with kinks (making it nappy) and wasting all my "good" hair that is slightly straighter than the average African American girl who uses a relaxer. When the initial repulsion stops and their comments subside, some girls actually try to make sense of it all.
"Well, she is lighter, so she must be mixed with something. Cause there just ain't no way, that all of that is all black."
"Right, and you only suppose to dread your hair when it is nappy, not when it is good. Maybe it's a new style."
As I twist my hair into a neat bun and brush my black waves down, I hope that this will draw less attention. Wrong. Whether positive or negative, people pepper me with comments. And I get the usual (jealous) glares from other African American girls and sometimes other races as well (other races have been a more recent phenomenon).
I used to long for kinks, curls, naps, and Afros because at least then the confusion would stop. I could say, yes I am Black--See look at my hair. Yes I have African heritage--See look at my dark-chocolate skin. And yes, I am proud just like you. But, when I was a child I "just had to be mixed" and that meant that I was a target for those who weren't.
People have told me that I look Brazilian (Morehna, Bahiana) Latina (Mulatto), Mixed (with black and white), Indian, and some even say Middle Eastern. Now, even though all of these labels are incorrect (biologically)they were strictly made by other girls (some of them friends) who simply looked at my skin color and hair. I also noticed that these cultures bombarded girls with comments on skin tones and hair types (both positive and negative). I am especially interested in the Blond, Brunette, and Red-head stereotypes in America. And so I wonder how the concept of "good and bad hair" in the African American community all started. Maybe it links to the history of slavery of Africans in an European-American country, maybe it doesn't. But it involves self-hate and that is something that we can all relate to.
Those who perpetuate these stereotypes of good and bad hair (mentally and verbally) are the victims of a history of white supremacy and oppression. But aren't we all victims of history in this country? In this world? And by picking out trivial things like hair, shows that we have a long way to go...
this is very interesting to me as someone who doesn't really understand the ins and outs of hair, especially non-caucasian hair and you gave me a precious, intimate look at it. (believe me, white women go strolling past hair places owned and frequented by richly colored women and know we are missing something really cool there)
ReplyDeleteand beyond that, your essay has important cultural and political overtones. you have so much to offer here. i'm not sure the list format works in the essay. I wonder if more dialog/scene would work for many of the comments.
wow. really worth nailing this one down, it says so much using the "little" experiences you've had...
Maryam--I think this is worth expanding. It's kind of shocking to me, actually, to read that people have such negative things to say about your hair--or hair in general. It's particularly interesting how this ties into ethnicity and the "rules" that lie therein. I'd be interested to see where you could take this, if you were to look at specific instances and interpretations.
ReplyDeleteThis is so great Maryam. You combine personal experience with a larger issue and question. I would love to see what else you could do with this. I've thought a lot about these hair stereotypes too, and I think the most interesting part is how we believe them, even when we know they aren't true. And when we accept them about ourselves, we perpetuate that cycle. So interesting.
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