Written by Anti-Racist Parent editor Tami Winfrey Harris
Those of you who follow me here and at
What Tami Said know that this is one of my soapbox topics. I think that ingraining hatred for natural hair is one of the first ways that society, and unfortunately parents, teach black girls that they are “less than.” People say the whole natural vs. relaxed debate is silly, not important in the scheme of racial equality. I disagree. This little thing most black women do–covering up their real hair texture pretty much from cradle to grave, sometimes with hair from women of other races; aggressively speaking negatively about coarse and kinky hair; never learning how to properly and easily care for unstraightened hair; avoiding everyday activity that might cause straightened hair to revert to its natural state–is ugly self-hatred that we pass on to future generations.
The wavy to kinky, sometimes coarse, hair common to people of African descent is just as beautiful, just as versatile, just as professional and just as easy to manage as the tresses of other races–but sadly, the majority of black people are likely to disagree with at least one of those statements. Many say that straightening is simply a choice, but the realistic admit that it is a choice made in societal context–one in which black hair is synonymous with ugly, radical, unprofessional, hard-to-manage and other negative descriptors.
While I believe that hatred for natural hair is bad, I also believe that women have a right to control their own bodies and appearance. Sometimes we want to try a different style or color, just for fun. But I can’t help wondering, as I watch Tyra Banks with her hair cornrowed especially for this episode, what message black women who constantly relax and weave and wig send to black girls. It is disengenuous of Banks to point to her braids to show her young guest that a black supermodel and media mogul is proud of her black hair, when in reality, Tyra would never rock those rows on the red carpet. When Banks is looking “fierce,” she’s usually sporting a long, straight blondish weave or wig. Everyone “tsk tsked” at the little black girl who loves her Hannah Montana wig because she thinks it is prettier than her real hair, but doesn’t grown-up Tyra do pretty much the same thing?
How can black mothers, most of whom, like Tyra, straighten or hide their natural hair, demonstrate to their daughters that curly to kinky hair can be just as beautiful in its natural state as that of other races? I am not asking this to be confrontational. I honestly am interested in hearing from black moms who perm their hair. What are the steps you take to ensure your child does not absorb the belief that straight is better? How do you address what your child may see as a contradiction: “Honey, natural black hair is beautiful, but none of the women in our family wear their hair naturally, because…”
If you are not black, but are the mother of a black daughter, how do you manage differences between your hair texture and that of your daughter? Many little girls want to look like mommy. Many little black girls covet “white” hair. How does a white mommy of a black girl deal with these issues.
For those who don’t know. Below is my hair story, which I have posted at What Tami Said and Racialicious, but I think not here:
Nappy Love: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Embrace the Kinks
My hair is nappy. It is coarse and thick. It grows in pencil-sized spirals and tiny crinkles. My hair grows out, not down. It springs from my head like a corona. My hair is like wool. You can’t run your fingers through it, nor a comb. It is impenetrable. My hair is rebellious. It resists being smoothed into a neat bun or pony tail. It puffs. Strands escape; they won’t be tamed. My hair is nappy. And I love it.
Growing up, I learned to covet silky, straight hair; “bouncing and behaving” hair; Cheryl Tiegs and Christie Brinkley hair. But as a young black girl, my appearance was far from the American ideal. Making my hair behave meant hours wriggling between my grandmother’s knees as she manipulated a hot comb through my thick, kinky mane. The process stretched my tight curls into hair I could toss and run my fingers through, something closer to the “white girl hair” that so many black girls admired and longed to possess.
My beautiful, straightened hair came at a price. It meant ears burned by slipped hot combs and scars from harsh chemicals. It meant avoiding active play and swimming pools, lest dreaded moisture make my hair “go back.” It meant having a relaxer eat away at the back of my long hair until barely an inch was left. It meant subtly learning that my natural physical attributes were unacceptable.
I was not alone in my pathology. Pressing combs, relaxers, weaves and the quest to hide the naps are part of the fabric of black beauty culture. It is estimated that more than 75 percent of black women straighten their hair. In the book “Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America,” Ayanna Byrd and Lori Tharps write: “Before a black child is even born, relatives speculate over the texture of hair that will cover the baby’s head, and the loaded adjectives “good” and “bad” are already in the air.” In the same book, a New York City dancer named Joicelyn explains: “Good hair is that silky black shit that them Indian girls be havin’…Good hair is anything that’s not crazy-ass woolly, lookin’ like some pickaninny out the bush.” Too often, black women find their hair hatred supported by media, men and the rest of the mainstream.
Cultural and professional pressures kept me relaxing my curls for 20 years. In the late 90s, the neo-soul movement caught fire in R&B. Young, bohemian singers like Jill Scott, Erykah Badu and India Arie were rocking stylish natural looks, and I began seeing more natural heads strutting down Michigan Ave. in Chicago, where I lived. Two of my close friends took the plunge, shearing their permed hair to start anew. Suddenly natural black hair was fashionable—at least for a small group of people.
Seeing more women, however few, freed from the tyranny of constant straightening, inspired me.I began poring over books about the care and politics of black hair. I became a member of a popular Web site devoted to championing natural hair. I learned about the toxic ingredients in chemical relaxers and the lasting damage they do. I discovered the origins of negative myths about black hair. I learned how to properly care for natural locks and discovered the myriad styles that can be achieved. I met women of all ages who embraced “nappy” as a positive description. And I slowly came to realize the inherent foolishness of believing black women’s hair, apart from that of all other races, needs to be fixed—pressed, weaved and manipulated into something it isn’t.
In August 2006, after years spent admiring the growing number of nappy heads around me; fretting whether my husband would still find me attractive; worrying whether my unruly ‘fro would frighten my co-workers; I chopped my near shoulder-length hair off, leaving barely an inch of kinky curls. I was free!
My hair is nappy. It is soft and cottony, a mass of varying textures. My hair is fun to play with. I like to pull at the spiral curls and feel them snap back into place. My hair defies the laws of gravity. It reaches energetically toward the sky. My hair is unique. In a fashion culture that genuflects to relaxed, flat-ironed tresses and stick-straight weaves, my fluffy, puffy, kinky mane stands out. It is revolutionary. My hair is natural. It is the way God made it. My hair is nappy. And it is beautiful.
About Tami
Tami Winfrey Harris writes about race, feminism, politics and pop culture at the blog What Tami Said. Her work has also appeared online at The Guardian’s Comment is Free, Ms. Magazine blog, Newsweek, Change.org, Huffington Post and Racialicious. She is a graduate of the Iowa State University Greenlee School of Journalism. She is mom to two awesome stepkids and spends her spare time researching her family history and cultivating a righteous 'fro.
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I’m so happy to read this! I’m a white Canadian married to a black African man. We don’t have children yet, but are planning to in the near future and the probability of my daughters having “black” hair is something that has terrified me. Not in a bad way, but as in, “how do I teach my girls that it’s okay for their hair to be different than mine and that it’s gorgeous exactly how it is?” and “what the heck do I do with it!?”
It’s good to know that there are resources out there for managing African hair naturally. I’ll be checking back to hear from other moms about how they handle these things. Thanks for making this article available!
As a mother of a 14 year-old, I struggled for years to convince her that she should not relax her hair. Most of her friends had relaxers and she has always attended predominately white schools. My daughter’s hair was never unmanageable so I saw no need to relax her hair. I realized that part of the reason she wanted a relaxer was because I had one. My hair had been relaxed since I was 10 years old. I had never given much thought to relaxing vs. natural.
I eventually gave in to my daughter’s request and allowed her to get a relaxer. Within a couple of months, her beautifully natural hair began breaking off. I knew that I would only be able to lead by example. Health reasons led me to reconsider putting harmful chemicals in my hair. Thankfully, my “Blackness” has never been an issue for those around me. Anyone who knows me can tell you that I’m as culturally “Black” as it gets. A few weeks ago, I cut off all of my relaxed hair. I now have a teeny weeny afro (very teeny) and I love it. I can see that my excitement about my natural hair is leading my daughter to rethink her views on natural hair. I love the natural curl and the time saved on washing/drying/flat ironing every day. The problem is that I am now obsessed with my natural hair. I’ve started making our hair products from natural/organic ingredients. Lotions have been replaced by shea butter mixtures etc.
I know that something will change in the next generation. Perhaps because both my daughter and I are going natural, my future grandchildren will never even consider relaxing their hair.
I totally agree. ‘ve been natural for over two years, but about six months ago, I was working in auto sales and a co-worker (a black male) made a comment of how my hair was a setback to black professionals. I found myself purchasing wigs and weaves to cover it. Everyone loved it, of course. But one of our receptionist gave me a wake up call one day when she told me that my hair made me unique and that she admired me being natural because she had never seen “true black hair before” (she was Caucasian). I also find it strnge that we as black women, while trying to enstill in our children a sense of pride, mask many of the things that we tell them are beautiful.
The problem I have encountered with going natural is that many people assume that just because you go natural your hair will be springy and curly like the picture in this post when that is not true since there are so many different hair types being African American or Mixed.
I believe this is literally the coming of age story for many Black women….if you are fortunate….the time when you truly truly loved your hair.
I grew up loving my naturally kinky nappy hair because it was so healthy, soft, lovely, long and my dad loved my hair so did my mother and always made me feel pretty. I didn’t envy straight hair.
Its funny because I got my first relaxer because I wanted to be like everyone else, yet I felt sooo sad when my kinks were gone.
I’m 34 and have been natural (no pressing straight, no relaxing) for years now and there is nothing sweeter than when my son was a baby learning to focus on faces, he also would focus on my hair and coo in delight at my short natural.
I now wear locs and I look and feel fabulous.
I forgot to add… I saw the Tyra Show and I felt sad for the little girl who said she preferred a blonde Hannah Montana wig to her own hair because she didn’t like her beautiful hair. . . and the other little girl who screamed while a relaxer burned her and was showing signs of breakage at her hairline…and the little girl whose mother put a relaxer and a weave in it because it was easier…not realizing the damage, tears and embarassment it will cause her child as a relaxer and weave on a child is damaging to a child’s hair.
I’m mostly Black (my mother is half Scottish) and my husband is White. My daughter has hair just like his. When I was pregnant I never thought it would be a problem I just assumed she’d have hair like mine so I was totally unprepared for the hair she’s got. Fortunately I have several close White female friends who were able to give me hair care tips. Though I still have yet to find a pony tail holder that won’t loosen up and slid off.
I look forward to a time when black people can let go of the good hair/bad hair thing. The way we value a person based on their hair is just ridiculous.
My family was up in arms after I went from having hair past my shoulders to a pixie cut. You’d have think I killed someone and not just cut my hair.
One of my fears is that my daughter will catch the same flack I caught as a kid. I heard a lot of “so you must think you’re better than me cause you’ve got ‘good hair’” and I always had curious White people (even teachers) wanting to touch my hair. I am 30 years old and still don’t like my hair touched for this very reason. They seemed shocked that I could have brown skin and soft hair.
Tyra is such a joke.
Overall…I agree. But you set your self up for failure when you expected authenticity from Tyra Banks!
As a white mom of a bi-racial daughter, I have struggled to learn how to take care of her hair. I’ve tried numerous products and finally have found ones I like. I fon’t know if I’m doing it right, but she gets many compliments on her hair so I must be doing it right. Oh, by the way, we are going to be staying natural as long as possible!
What about convenience? While I completely agree with you that our society has yet to accept “natural” hair and we need to get away from the idea that beauty comes in a package with straight hair, I will admit that it would just be plain easier to have my daughter’s hair straight. I have not permed her hair, but there has been many a day when we’re late for school because of hair that I wish I could. Doing her hair is a process that wears us both out. And while I’m sure Tyra spends hours at a salon with her ‘do, I think there is something freeing about the idea that you could perm your hair just to be able to run a comb through it and pull it back in a ponytail. It seems to me that while you can support the argument that natural hair is covered up and not appreciated in our society, you need to leave room for the opinon that some hair choices are for speed and simplicity. (though I know some women who go natural say their time spent on their hair has decreased dramatically.) I just don’t like the generalization that all black women who perm/relax/straighten their hair are not embracing their true selves.
Cathy,
In my experience, black hair is only difficult and inconvenient to do when one aims to care for it and style it like straight hair. My morning routine is vastly shorter now with natural hair than it was with relaxed hair. There are many kid-friendly natural styles that don’t require lots of daily maintenance, like twists, cornrows and braids. The problem is that even black women grow up not knowing how to do this.
As a white mother of black children, I make a conscious effort to compliment my girls’ hair while caring for it. My hair is curly but when I was a kid I wished it were more so. My 7 year old loves to hear that – that I’d wished for hair like hers.
I love the look and feel of natural black hair. I really hope to be able to pass that love on to them as well. Reading others’ perspectives, like this, really helps me feel better able to do that. And any helpful tips and resources passed along are always helpful!
Talk about convenience…my girls’ hair is locked and we don’t have to do anything to it in the morning, except add a headband or pull it back into a ponytail–but that’s optional. We are late to school for other reasons!
Same with braids/cornrows, as Tami said, when they’ve worn those styles.
I wore my hair in a relaxer for years and actually went from that to braids, to a short fro, to two-strand twists, and finally to locks…for the sake of convenience.
Strokes for folks, but just as a broad brush generalization can’t be made about the self-esteem/self-love (or lack thereof) of those who straighten their hair, neither can that kind of brush (no pun intended!) be applied to say that natural hair is more time-consuming or difficult to maintain. (I’m not saying that that’s what you’re saying, Cathy, but your post about convenience brought that particular conversation to mind.)
With my oldest daughter, she HATED having her hair combed, or even braided. I suggested locks like mine as an alternative, and she got them about 3 years ago in 1st/2nd grade. She still doesn’t like to get them twisted periodically, but she prefers that over daily or even weekly braiding or other styling.
My youngest (now 5) asked for locks as soon as she was old enough to express her desire to emulate our style.
I don’t know what the future holds for my girls as they get older, in terms of their preferences and hair experiments. But I am glad that their hair-story began this way–unlike mine which began with straightening combs, a “Kiddie Kit” relaxer at age 5, and a dislike for my hair in its natural state.
Finally, I’ll take this opportunity to be a proud mama and show a pick of my older daughters’ locks:
http://locallytoned.wordpress.com/2009/05/12/taylors-tone/
This is her curly “fancy” look.
Cathy I agree with you. I am so tired of hearing that I’m self hating because I relax my hair. Does my hairstyle negate everything I do in my community? The values I instill in my children? I understand the history and the politics behind this discussion, but why would we continue to let something like this become a dividing line between us? We need to concentrate on all the reasons we need to come together, and stop buying into these false separations.
CWR,
I hope I made clear in my post that I understand that for some wearing straight hair is just a style choice. That’s cool. But even if you have gotten past the good vs. bad hair thing, you must know that the vast majority of people (black and otherwise) have not.
I’m asking a practical question. Most black women wear their hair straight. And most black women with daughters want their children to grow up able to make style choices without the context of negative stereotypes about their natural selves. So, how does one do that?
If everyone around your child says that natural black hair is not as good as that of other races–it is inconvenient to manage, unattractive, unfeminine, unprofessional–and even female role models like mom and auntie and grandmom wear their hair straightened–how do you instill the belief that natural hair is okay, but every women is free to wear her hair as she pleases.
I’m not judging, just asking.
I’m a white mom to three African American children (two boys and a girl), blessings to our family by adoption.
But I have to confess: I have, more than once…ok, ok, every time I do my daughter’s hair…complained about it. I love her hair, really, I do. It’s beautiful. It’s just that I am terrible with hair. You should see mine.
I have joined groups to get ideas. And those are extremely helpful. Still, I’ll never be as good at hair as these other women are. I’m just not that coordinated or patient. I can do yarn extensions quite well…but very slowly!
So, what to do? I contemplated locs for a long time. I’ve even made two attempts (one by myself and another by a professional) to start them. But both times, I’ve been scared off, told that my daughter will regret this decision later (she’s 4 1/2). We live in Birmingham, and I’ve been informed that locs aren’t ok here. So, I’ve gone through the painstaking and terribly long process (6 or more hours each time) of undoing them.
I am committed to keeping her hair in its natural state. Perhaps when she’s older, she’ll make a different decision for herself. But right now, I’m in charge, and natural it is.
But what am I telling my little girl by all the stressful moments that are hair time? Would loc-ing be better than this? Do I keep doing yarn twists (which are beautiful, even if they take forever for this incompetent mom to do them)?
Questions, questions.
I understand both Cathy and Tami’s points. I have been straightening my hair for years, but alternate between braids and letting my natural hair grow out some. I know that I have probably done some irreparable damage to hair with the use of harsh chemicals, etc.
My 6 year-old daughter, since she was a baby, has had to endure hours and hours of hair braiding, etc. Her hair is not that hard to manage (she doesn’t have really tight curls), but my heart aches when I have to make her sit down for 3 hours, neck bent in all sorts of positions to comb her hair for a week or two. I can see how these experiences will leave a negative feeling for her about natural hair when she sees me just pull mine back into a ponytail in two minutes.
Basically, it boils down to preference. I find nothing wrong with natural hair or treated hair. Each person has to decide what works for them. In the meantime, I think it’s very important to refrain from using negative words to describe black attributes. This includes skin color, shape of nose , mouth, etc. It’s all related.
I don’t think this is just a black women’s issue. Look at the millons of dollars that Clairol, Revlon and so many other companies make off consumers of every race. I don’t know anyone who had straight hair that didn’t try to make it kinky (like myself) or someone with curls try to make it straight.
My personal belief is that the majority of women have never embraced how beautiful we are and been satisfied with that and would rather chose to go by what the tv, radio, print ads or even our own familes say about beauty.
I am loving this discussion! Thanks to everyone for sharing your experiences.
I’m a white mom with brown wavy hair who has a white girl with blond straight hair and a black girl with black kinky hair. So we all have very different hair. You ask: how to you deal with the differences in hair? many little girls want to look like mommy? Well, I don’t quite know how it’s not an issue in my family but maybe it’s because I de-emphasizing it. My kids are 8 and 9 and I’ve not heard: I’d like to have hair like you, or so and so. They both have a fancy for ‘long’ hair (the overall American standard) which they balance with practicality (both play lots of sports). I’m a no-fuzz-about-hair person and that is what they hear from me. The straight-haired girl bought herself a comb (we did not own one before..) and she asks me to make little zigzags in her hair many days. The kinky-hair girl has her hair in dreads and ponies them up in various styles when she feels like it. Neither seems to be unhappy with their hair. The kinky-haired girl has gotten nothing but positive comments on her hair, from all corners, strangers and family alike. She also ‘gets’ how easy her hair style is when she hears from friends on how much time and money they spend on their hair. I’m personally going to continue de-emphasizing hair in the hopes it’ll counteract all the unnecessary ‘issues’ that float around us about hair.
(I exclude hair ‘issues’ that are of religious nature and thus driven by something different than ‘looks’.)
what about learning to cornrow hair before committing a child to locs?
you can comb out cornrows and convert to another style easily, unlike locs which have to be cut out (that could be disturbing for a self-conscious kid in middle school).
I wear locs as an adult, but I think kids and parents should have a firm understanding that locs are more permanent than other available styles.
My mom learned to cornrow hair when she was in college, it took about 45 min, once a week to style my hair. It wasn’t a totally idealistic process, but much healthier for my extremely curly hair and sensitive scalp than the hot comb or relaxers.
You can probably learn to cornrow from another woman or at a beauty salon. It is a classic style for african (american) girls.
I think this may be even more of a female issue than a racial issue. I am caucasian and have VERY curly, coarse hair. I spent much of my life trying to figure out how to get it straight and shiny and bouncy like the ads. Even when perms were popular, they didn’t look like my curls. I finally gave up all of the work, grew it out, and let the curls do what they would. Turns out, with a little anti-frizz cream and a leave-in conditioner, they looked quite nice. I will admit the biggest downside was professional. If you are little and have curls, you are “sweet” but apparently not considered that smart. It seems ambitious professional women are only allowed certain “looks” in the workplace, and mine did not fit in. But that’s misogyny for you.
at JennMomtoThree:
I wanted to share a couple of things that I’ve found, since you seem open to ideas. I confess that I am not a mom, and that I’m not an expert in hair care, but I love doing the hair of the little girls in my multi-ethnic/multi-racial family (with hair textures from fine, straight hair to tight ringlet-y curls to kinky hair). Maybe I’ll like it less if I have to do it everyday for my own daughter someday, but I hope not!
My two cents:
A really good leave-in conditioner/hair lotion can ease the process a lot. You might also want to practice styles that are less permanent than locs but that can be kept in for a long time, like corn rows, braids, or even a couple of French braids, if they are done tightly enough (and depending on your daughter’s hair texture/length of course). You can practice on yourself to get up your speed (even if your hair texture is different, it will be the same basic procedure, and in my experience you’ll find that the tighter the curls the EASIER it is to braid/corn row because the hair doesn’t slip out as much). Can you put on cartoons or bring out a story book or find something fun for your daughter while you do her hair? I’m sure you’ve tried, but if you can find a special hair-time activity that she enjoys that might make it less stressful for both of you. Finally, one thing that works for my niece is letting her pick out her hair bands/deely bobs (get ones in her favorite color, with a cartoon character she likes or something). And last but not least, ooh and aaw over the final result!
I’ve been checking out this blog for a while as someone who has a lot of kids in her family and in her work, but I feel funny commenting without being a parent myself–I hope it’s allowed
I’m a black mom to bi racial children who stopped relaxing my hair about 6 years ago when my daughter was an infant.
I definitely don’t think that a mother who relaxes her hair is impeding her ability to help her child foster self esteem. But part of my own personal evolution as a parent was giving up lengthy salon appointments that kept me from my daughter and left me smelling like harsh chemicals when we were reunited.
And while many women deal with feelings of inadequacy regarding hair, women who have kinky hair are dealing with a “special” set of issues.
Chris Rock has a documentary about hair coming down the pipe the catalyst of which was his daughter’s desire for good hair.
My children have fine, soft hair but I have gone to great lengths to ensure that they are oblivious to the good hair vs bad hair concept, a damaging dichotomy whichever you possess.
Shielding them from societal expectations regarding appearances is a multi layered exercise, on going and relatively easy at this point because they are 4 and 6. But a big part of that process has been their daily life with me and my hair that grows up and not down. Happily acknowledging our differences but not valuing one over the other.
For those od you wondering “how to” regarding styles, locs, braids and cornrows, there’s a wonderful book I came across before my daughter even had much hair called “It’s All Good Hair”. It was written by a black woman who felt completely inept at doing her child’s hair. The instructions are extremely easy to follow (my daughter is now 9 and uses this book to do her dolls’ hair), but the book also includes many personal anecdotes about the way various people address their childrens’ hair issues.
My daughter’s hair (she is biracial) is extreley thick and wavy, but not kinky. Mostly, she’s worn ponytails and headbands, though when it was really long (pre-lice, sigh), I fixed it in many styles that included ponies and braids together, zig-zag parts nad more.
She’s had braids a few times, and this year in school, which is a new school for her and mostly white, the braids caused such a sensation that she asked me to take them out. I was sad that something she’s previously loved became an issue for her-next year her school will have a much more mixed population, and hopefully things will change.
My sisters-in-law all do different things. One has never NOT relaxed her hair, another often adds extentions, a third had locs for years and now has a very short afro. That is the older generation I see.
But the younger black and biracial kids I see around here seem to mostly wear their hair natural, or if they straighten it, it’s for a single day with one of those ceramic straitening irons. The little girls in my daughter’s dance class and at her church all wear their hair natural and have different braid or twist styles done by their moms. I can’t remember the last time I saw a girl under say 16 with relaxed hair. I think that’s a sign that things are changing generationally in the pacific northwest, at least.
I frustrates me when people try to say that hair politics is not an issue that’s particular to the black community and it’s the same for women across the board. I understand that all races of women have hair/beauty issues as well, but I don’t think it’s coincidental that the vast majority of black women either permanently alter and damage their hair or choose to cover it up. I live in a major metro area with a large black population and maybe 5% of the women I see on a daily basis aren’t wearing perms, wigs or weaves. I don’t know many white women who’s hair hasn’t seen the light of day in years because it’s constantly hidden under a wig. It saddens me to listen to friends talk about bald spots on their children’s heads from the perming, and other related woes. These folks truly think living with your hair in it’s natural state is not an option. I have no daughters, only a son, but I’m happy to provide an example to him of a black women who’s proud of her natural black hair. I hope that his definition of beauty and womanhood is broader than long, straight hair. I personally feel it’s important to set that example because the messages kids recieve about black hair from the outside world are not going to be affirmative ones in most cases. So to response to the question about instilling the values- I have no idea how that’s done without walking the walk. I look at this like modeling anything else I want to instill in my child.
I’m a white mom of 3 biracial children… I have loose curls myself so I had at least some idea of what curly hair requires. One website we love is http://www.tightlycurly.com... it’s fabulous!
Hi LOVE your posts on hair Tami. I have learned from you. And appreciate the discussion it produces.
Black hair is a hot topic for me too. As a white mom I love styling both my girls “black hair”. I didn’t have much prior experiencing braiding hair, other than my own, before having my girls. I find it easy to do and very versatile. I really only need to style it once a week if I do a good job. And it’s a good conversation piece, my girls love the attention when people ask them who did their hair. I see them glow with pride when they say, “my mom does it.”
My oldest once had her hair blown dry straight, by a woman cutting her hair, and she hated it. She cried and begged me to put it back. She still talks about it; clearly it left a strong impression. The stylist said she’d never seen a reaction like that before.
I’m proud that my girls love their hair. That’s them in the gratuitous cute kid pic this week!!
Wonderful topic. I have a 7 year old with natural hair. Her hair type is 4C and has about 70% shrinkage when washed. I mention that just to try and explain that I sometimes have tears in “my” eyes when I wash/condition/braid her hair because it hurts “her”.
I know how to comb her hair without pulling the roots, use good conditioners,etc etc. Read all the books (Kinky Kreations, its all good hair, etc etc) Fact remains that it really hurts.
I’ve always told my daughter that our hair (brown-skinned people) is beautiful but different from whites. Not bad, just different.
Personally I wore my hair natural when my daughter was 2yrs to 5 years. I will be going natural again (via chop) in a month or so. My daughter is upset with that.
So I know there is a disconnect between what I have taught her…what she sees and believes. But I don’t care. I’m cutting my hair because its easier/healtier in its natural state. Hopefully she will get it.
I think it will help our girls to see more women with natural hair. Then they won’t see such styles as an oddity.
I forgot to mention that each time I wash/condition/braid her hair… I tell myself that I will put in a texturizer next time.
My sister-in-law has told me that I was being cruel to my daughter by allowing her to go through the pain during braiding.
Its hard on me. Sometimes I feel like I really am being cruel. The only thing that keeps me from adding a texturizer to her hair is the knowledge that the hair will surely break and become damaged. And I don’t want that for her.
My plan now is to use a flat iron before braiding (blow dryer hurts her too). If the flat iron thing fails… then I might really really really consider a texturizer.
p.s. I love her hair. It is completely healthy. It doesn’t even snap crackle or pop.
Stella – have you tried combing it while wet only. And blow drying is a good idea if you plan on doing intricate styles so that there’s no tugging. But if you comb while wet only, the section off her hair with just your fingers, twist each section and but a bull dog clip in to hold it in place, then blow dry or style, that might help. And by combing I mean using a Denman brush.
Tami, you straight up called me out on that one. For a few years I’ve been wondering what I’m going to do with my relaxed hair once I have kids. I don’t think I’ll be lucky enough for them not to point out my hypocrisy. I don’t really know yet. My working plan is to go out of my way to praise those with natural texture as an attempt to balance out the preference demonstrated by my choice. I know one thing for sure, I’m not going to alter their hair at all. No pressing or relaxing. I also don’t want them to experience all the pain and boredom of getting your hair braided with all the barrettes that hit you in the eye when you’re playing and them fall off by the end of the day. Somehow, I hope I can find them a low-maintence style. That’s part of the reason why I relax (that and the length, I can’t do the big chop) is that I’m lazy (but not cheap) with my hair.
Kandeezie, thanks for the tip.
I use a wide tooth to comb before shampooing, and also when conditioning. Then I put it in 4 big plats and let it dry.
Next day I take out the plats and blow dry. The ladies in the salon like to comb out the hair again, from root to tip before braiding. They are not aggressive ( I make sure of that).
But I find that what hurts her the most is when they part and separate the hair at the root. She gets box braids because they can last 6-9 weeks (but I don’t allow any braiding on the hair line, I just brush that into the braids)
Kandeezie,
I agree. When I became natural, I quickly learned the general wisdom not to comb my hair when dry. Aha! That’s why the process always hurt when I was a wee Tami! I only comb my hair when wet and saturated with conditioner, otherwise I gently finger comb. The idea of raking a small-toothed comb through my hair makes me shudder.
That’s why I transitioned to natural hair before my daughter came home. I wanted to work through my “hair issues.” Happy to say 9 months later natural is all she knows and I am better off for the decision. Fortunately, my son has stopped saying he wishes I still had straight hair. I think he’s evolving as well.
I must admit, that once I started growing my locs over a year ago not only have gained more free time but also more self-confidence. Love my locs!!!
my daughter just did a play and they played dalmations. I tought my daughter that we all different and thats ok. My daughter had saw a lady who had only one arm and she asked me but why mommy and i told her its ok to have one arm everyone is born different and thats ok. she had also asked why a lady had no hair and i repeated what i said, my daughter is 5 and i felt this the best way for her to understand that bieng different is ok. On the day they were to do thier show one lady was painting black noses on the children and one girl in front of my daughter who was a different ethnicity than most of the girls just as my daughter well anyway the lady said oh you have the perfect nose for this and she said it to my daughter as well.. should i be offended. i felt i bit offended anyway. also thier was a group of girls taking pictures and as my daughter is out going she wanted to join the picture and the older girls started to yell at her saying its only us girls and my daughter came to me asking my mommy why are they yelling at me.. i did not know what to say so i said baby its o.k.. my daughter kept asking me why and after i told her honey your right its not ok for them to yell at you and im sorry they did that. i geuss why i was upset is the mommy taking the picture did not intervene and say something to make her feel like it was ok , because if it was me taking the picture i would have told the girls in a polite way that it was ok for her to join the picture. i dont know i just felt some feeling that my daughter was bieng belittled as she was a minority and it breaks my heart especially to see it coming from children..
I know this is random, but do you think the pop singer Micheal Jackson wore a wig. The singers hair was thought to be his own until a friend came out and explained jackson had been wearing a wig.
Who hasn’t imagined completely changing up their look, just to see how it would suit you? Luckily for you, lace front wigs allow you to attempt to change your look without having to worry about committing to the new look for a long time.
Please share your thoughts….
—————
dee
I suspect he had significant hair follicle damage when his scalp was burned during the Pepsi commercial fire, so yes, I think he wore a wig for many years.
I’ll start by saying that I’ve been natural since 1997. Prior to that, I’ve run the gamut of press and curl, blowouts, weaves, perms, gerri curls, braids and wigs.
I think we’re being a bit hard on Tyra… being in the industry she’s in… do you know how hard she had to struggle to maintain even a bit of her identity as a black woman?
I give her props that she’s still black enough to air the show and host the girls camp. Every person has a choice, some we agree with and others we don’t… hair is a journey a journey toward self and maturity… don’t count her out… just yet.
Now about me… my daughter has been permed since she was 10 and braided and weaved and she has done the natural thing and now wears a pixie permed do… I believe that I’ve done enough of a job enhancing her beauty to her as a black woman so that she feels free to exercise her choices.
Nothing worthwhile is easy… and everyone doesn’t arrive at the same decision or path at the same time or in the same way…
Just my two cents…
Well, my daughter’s hair was permed at a very young age (4 years old) by their aunt (their dad’s sister) w/o my permission. And its been the most horrible thing that could have happened. I was very upset!! Prior, my daughter had very long ponytails and it was naturally wavy. Since the perm and still 3 years later, her edges has fell out and I’m having a hard time getting it to grow back. I really want my daughters hair to get back natural.
Now as far as me, I ve had a perm for as long as I remember. I’ve decided this year that I am going to go natural-although i haven had a perm since March 2009. I’ve kept my hair in braids. At first natural wasn’t and didnt seem appealing to me. But after a few months of looking and researching, I realize how healthy my hair can/will be just being natural. So, I’m excited, but yet nervous.
I’m in the process of getting my 3yr old daughter to wear her hair naturally..twist..curly..no bow ties or balls!! Maybe a headband here or there. She’s loving it thus far!! She actually asked me to keep it this way!! I’m excited about the process and can’t wait to fully embrace it. BUT….i haven’t changed over yet…I relax my hair…and i recently started wearing weaves. Not sure how this will turn out in the long run but i guess i’ll be dealing with it!!