[Editor's note: Last week, while folks here on Anti-Racist Parent were discussing Renee's compelling post on Zahara Jolie-Pitt's hair, some of us behind the scenes were talking about a recent Atlanta Journal-Constitution article that also raised issues of beauty standards and norms surrounding black hair. Below, is the first installment of a multi-part discussion of the piece]
To: Pia Guerrero, columnist, Anti-Racist Parent,
From: Tami Winfrey Harris, editor, Anti-Racist Parent
I share your concerns about the recent Atlanta Journal-Constitution piece, “Perfect braids show depth of dads devotion,” a profile of Clifton Green, a white adoptive dad who has learned to braid his brown daughter Miriam’s hair. You wrote:
I have a pit in my stomach after reading this and all the adjectives the author has projected onto this little girl and her hair…like neaten, hygiene and behave. Not to mention how the father wanted the little girl to be accepted ‘regardless of her looks.’ Ay-yay-yay…
Indeed.
Two things rankle about the article. First, the incessant othering and demonizing of black physicality using the negative language typically ascribed to hair of people with African ancestry. Writer Michelle Hiskey presents caring for black hair as some singularly mysterious and incredibly difficult chore.
Such skills typically are handed down from older family members and, as this Emory University associate professor of finance discovered, take hours of practice. In the wrong hands, hair like his daughter’s can break off.
Correct me if I am wrong, but won’t anyone’s hair break off in the wrong hands? Don’t people of all races hand down methods of grooming? If I adopt a white child and if, because I am unfamiliar with hair care methods that most white moms learn from their moms, I proceed to care for my white child’s hair as I care for my black hair, would her hair not be damaged?
It seems this story could have been an exploration of how parents adopting internationally and interracially must embrace another culture to successfully nurture their children. Instead, the article is a treatise on the woes of having a head full of naps.
Hair like Miriam’s takes a lot of time…
Once a week he shampoos and conditions her hair. It takes about five times longer to rinse out the water compared to her brother’s straight, fine hair. He combs and parts it. This takes 30 minutes or more. The next steps he does at least once a day, more if she musses her hair while playing or napping. He works on one section of hair at a time.
He sprays it with a brown froth called Carol’s Daughter Black Vanilla Leave-In Conditioner for Dry Hair. The extracts of lavender and rosemary smell nice, wafting with the cartoon noises from the TV that Miriam watches only during hair time. Her Ethiopian middle name, Tigist, means patience, and she needs it while he works…
Hiskey recounts each step of Miriam’s hair care routine, taking special care to make it seem exotic and complicated, like some shamanistic wisdom culled on a mountain top in sub-Saharan Africa. Oh, the combing, the parting, the strangely-named products!
It occurs to me that I could describe the care of straight hair in the same way and make it, too, seem a tedious exercise. I could emphasize how little white girls’ hair must be combed and tended to every day, whereas those intricate plaits that Hiskey drones on about sometimes can last for weeks with minimal maintenance. I could tell a story that makes the hair of people with European ancestry seem unmanageable and odd.
The truth is that all hair is easily manageable unless you care for it with the aim of making it something it is not. I am weary of young, black girls (and black women, too) being fed the message that our hair needs to be tamed and wrestled with. It cannot be good for little girls like Miriam to hear that their physicality is a problem to be fixed, a chore that only the most rare and devoted parent would dare tangle with.
My other beef with the AJC article is this: Why so many kudos for a father doing what is natural—nurturing and caring for a child? Hiskey seems amazed that Green would take the time to lovingly care for his daughter’s hair. Why? Is it because men aren’t supposed to get involved in those aspects of child rearing? That antiquated notion seems problematic. Is it because the realm of black hair is a twisted, unforgiving place that angels (and white parents) fear to tread? Neither subtext for Hiskey’s fascination seems a good answer in this “post-racial,” “post-feminist” America. (a-hem)
I am just so over this sort of story. I’d love to hear more about what you think. And I’m going to share this with columnists Liz Dwyer and Deesha Philyaw, and Renee at Womanist Musings and Julia at Nobody Asked You. I am curious to hear their thoughts on this issue.
I read the original article, and I don’t interpret it in the same way as the author of the above post does.
The fact of the matter is, the hair of people with African ancestry can take a lot of time, in order to care for it properly. I have a chemical applied to my hair, but, it isn’t ‘wash and wear’. The washing, deep conditioning, prepping, air drying, and finishing can take 3-4 hours. Is that not work? Is that not time and effort? Yes, it is, and some days, it’s a bit overwhelming. But, my hair truly benefits from the amount of time and effort I give to it.
The same would be said of a White friend with waist-length hair. It requires a lot of time in order to care for it properly.
I don’t see the demonizing of the little girl or her hair in the AJC piece. I see the story of a father who lovingly cares for his daughter an his daughter’s hair, which is more than I can say for the hair of some of the little Black girls with Black mothers I see in my community. Mom’s hair is all done up, but, the little girl’s? No time or effort spared on her whatsoever.
As for the kudos being given to the dad for doing his father’s hair: Like it or not, women still assume the bulk of the responsibility for child care in our post-modern American society. So, the account of a father – any father – caring for his daughter’s hair, is quite unusual. But, perhaps this dad will inspire other dads.
Perhaps in the minds of folks here at ARP, the AJC story is a major fail. I respectfully disagree with the analysis presented here. But, then again, Black Americans don’t represent a monolith, do they?
As for the kudos being given to the dad for doing his father’s hair: dad should be daughter. My apologies.
Marcy said: “The fact of the matter is, the hair of people with African ancestry can take a lot of time, in order to care for it properly. I have a chemical applied to my hair, but, it isn’t ‘wash and wear’. The washing, deep conditioning, prepping, air drying, and finishing can take 3-4 hours. Is that not work? Is that not time and effort? Yes, it is, and some days, it’s a bit overwhelming. But, my hair truly benefits from the amount of time and effort I give to it.”
This is kind of my point, though. You have chemicals in your hair. You have chosen to wear your hair in a way that is different from the way it naturally behaves. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with that; however, keeping curly hair straight does take considerable time and effort.
My natural hair is indeed wash-and-wear, though I sometimes choose to do something with it that takes more time. Black women and girls have the option of wash-and-wear hair just as women and girls of other races.
Our methods of hair care are different, but not deficient or more difficult. It takes no more time to throw a little black girl’s clean and moisturized hair into a pony puff than it does to throw a little white girl’s clean and moisturized hair into a ponytail.
The problem, I think, is that we have been taught that the styles that are the easiest for our natural hair are ugly, unprofessional and unkempt.
Well, as a mom I’ll say that I wish my husband was able to do either of my daughters’ hair. He’s also a great example of how if you haven’t learned anything about hair, caring for straight hair is just as hard as caring for very curly hair.
Care for my daughter’s curly (black) hair is front-loaded — more work up front but a style lasts longer and will last even longer when she’s not 2 and constantly putting weird things into it. Care for my daughter’s straight hair is back-loaded — multiple times per day before we go out the door I brush it so it doesn’t look like an animal is nesting in the back.
“The fact of the matter is, the hair of people with African ancestry can take a lot of time, in order to care for it properly…. The same would be said of a White friend with waist-length hair.”
Yes. But also, no. Good hair care takes time, regardless of hair type or length. Here’s a secret. A lot of white people have short hair, because they don’t know how to properly care for their own hair. But white people screwing up their own hair doesn’t make for interesting reading, apparently.
I’m white, with hip long, very straight hair. The comment about making “white” hair care exotic made me laugh, because it’s very easy to do so. Here’s a look at my hair care routine (which is not nearly as “out there” as some people I know — I don’t oil my hair, do vinegar rinses, or wear a cap or use a satin pillowcase at night):
1) I only wash my hair two or three times a week, depending on the weather. Three times during the summer, but in the winter, only twice.
2) I use a specially bought comb on my hair before showering, to make sure there are no knots. I was willing to spend the extra, because this one won’t snag and damage my hair.
3) To avoid damaging my hair, I use only luke warm water.
4) I live in a dry climate and the local water tends to be somewhat hard, so I start with a special medicated shampoo to deal with the dandruff this causes. It’s good for my scalp, but harsh on my hair, so I apply it only to affected areas, not my whole head. This stays on for several minutes and then has to be completely rinsed out. Residue will irritate my scalp. I rinse for several minutes to make sure it’s all out. I tend to gather up the length of my hair and hold it in my hand while rinsing, because I don’t want it getting into the lengths.
5) I then wash the whole of my head with my “ordinary” shampoo. I’m careful to use a shampoo without sulfates in it (the chemicals that make shampoo all sudsy), because they’re fairly harsh and damaging.
6) I use a mosturizing conditioner. It stays on for at least five minutes. I used to use a second conditioner after that, with a silicone compound in it that would coat the hair shaft and hold in moisture, but I found that it made my hair a bit stiff. Also, I would have to use a clarifying shampoo to strip the seal before moisturizing again.
7) Every other week, I use a deep conditioner that is left in for at least 10 minutes. This means getting out of the shower and sitting around reading for a bit.
9) I wait until my hair is at least 75% dry to comb it out. Combing it wet will result in breakage. But if I wait until totally dry, it dries slightly tangled and with fly aways.
10) I don’t wear my hair down unless it’s a special occasion. Wind will damage your hair, and I take care of mine. All hair holders, be they tie or clip, are selected to not catch or damage hair. I tend to coat the metal edges of the clips with clear nail polish.
11) Once a week, I check for split ends, and clip them out with a pair of scissors that I bought and use only for this task. I replace the scissors once a year.
Most people, regardless of race, do not take what I would consider “proper” care of their hair. But, as I said, no one writes articles about the difficulty of properly caring for “white” hair. And that’s what makes the issue a problem.
(I put “white” in quotes because one thing alone should determine hair care — what works best for the individual. The idea of universal hair care is silly and is why some people have hair in such poor condition).
Terrie,
Yes! That is totally my point.
I read the article expecting to feel some kinda way about the racial undertones described in this ARP posting, and despite my general sensitivity to such issues, my blackdar needle didn’t end up moving very far at all. Yes there was some exoticisizing, but mostly it was about how this kid’s parents, her dad specifically, took the time to learn the haircare necessary to have his daughter’s hair look as spiffy as his son’s hair does. And since they are from different cultural backgrounds, that took a little more learning on his part. Good for him.
Is it worthy of an article? That I’m not so sure about.
But here’s the thing about natural hair. Some people (any race/ethnicity) with natural hair will have wash and wear hair and some will not. I’m a loc’ed sista, so I’ve got no chemicals or combs that are part of my hair care regimen, but my hair is certainly not wash and wear. It’s more like wash, conditioning rinse and spend a few hours palmrolling. But the time spent palmrolling doesn’t take away from my love of my natural hair.
My kidlet is biracial. Her hair is also not wash and wear, unless we want to have a major excursion to the tangle forest, as we call it. And tangles are not about teaching her hair hatred. They are just part and parcel of what can happen to any hair of a certain length without brushing/combing.
But I guess what I feel I see in Tami’s post is a dislike of considering “black hair” (and yes I know how broad a descriptor that is) as being different. I get and support the dislike of exoticizing our hair, but I have no issue with accepting that it is essentially different. The weight, caliber, and characteristics are indeed different. Yet as I always say, different does not mean bad, wrong, or less than. Different only means different without value judgments.
If we could recognize and accept the differences in our hair without going the next step and valuing these differences in comparison to other types of hair, then I would be a happy black woman.
“Correct me if I am wrong, but won’t anyone’s hair break off in the wrong hands?”
I only mention this cause you asked. Mine wouldn’t break off for anything. I’ve been told by girlfriends that my hair is basically ideal (“wasted on a guy”). Generic hair scissors from big box mart won’t actually cut it, I have to get the fancy ones.
To answer the question, ideal hair exists, hardly anyone has it and it’s just as likely to be wasted on a guy as it is to be employed by a supermodel to give women hair complexes.
Liana,
I agree that African American hair is different from, say, European American hair. That difference results in different hair care for sure. What I disagree with is the idea that the care of our hair alone is inherently difficult and problematic.
Different is not deficient.
GoodHairDude,
Ideal hair is healthy hair. What is considered attractive hair is tied to prevailing customs and beauty standards–thus, subjective.
re: Tammy’s #3 comment, “This is kind of my point, though. You have chemicals in your hair. You have chosen to wear your hair in a way that is different from the way it naturally behaves. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with that; however, keeping curly hair straight does take considerable time and effort.
My natural hair is indeed wash-and-wear, though I sometimes choose to do something with it that takes more time. Black women and girls have the option of wash-and-wear hair just as women and girls of other races. ”
I also have natural African American hair, and it hasn’t had chemicals in it for over 10 years. That said, it is only “wash & wear” if it is .25″ or shorter–at which point everyone’s is. There are tons and tons of varieties of curly hair, and some of them are more delicate and work-intensive than others. Why is it that somehow admitting that some hair is more fragile and labor-intensive than other hair isn’t about simply stating difference, but is taken as a negative?
One of my friends, who is also African-American, has natural hair that functions entirely differently than mine, and hers is “wash & wear” at a length mine will never be. When I mentioned that some method she did “wouldn’t work” on my head, she took it to mean that I thought my hair was somehow not as nice as hers. That isn’t the case–I love my hair, and style it appropriately for its texture. I’ve spent several years learning how to care for it properly, it it isn’t the case that I haven’t discovered the way to make it “wash & wear.”
Acknowledging difference is not an automatic insult; or, more to the point, it is not automatically racist. I had a college roommate who had beautiful hair that required little maintenance–I lived with her, after all. The fact that my hair is more delicate and requires more time is a point of fact; it is not racist, nor does it mean my hair is any less beautiful.
Given this perspective, I wasn’t offended by all aspects of the article. The writer’s hair probably doesn’t take as long to care for (really, some people’s hair takes little time!), and I’m willing to bet that some of the other readers don’t spend as much time on their hair, either. (My mom, who chemically relaxes hers, does not spend as much time on hers as I do on mine–although hers ends up being far more expensive and less healthy.) I did find some of the exoticization on the part of the writer a bit troubling, but that wasn’t my lasting impression. Rather, I found that it was great that the father had taken the time to learn how to care for his daughter’s hair, and that he viewed it as quality time that they shared.
You said, “It cannot be good for little girls like Miriam to hear that their physicality is a problem to be fixed, a chore that only the most rare and devoted parent would dare tangle with.” This brings two things to mind. I think the notion that her hair was “a problem to be fixed” would have been conveyed if her hair had been chemically processed. The fact that her father–or either parent–spends so much time on her hair shows that she’s worth the time, and that her hair is beautiful and worth caring for; I took it as a form of doting.
While it is somewhat problematic to devote a whole article to this issue–perhaps it would have made more sense on Father’s Day?–it may have the benefit of being a resource for non-black parents of black children. The article made it clear that Miriam’s father was indeed able to learn how to care for her hair, which could be useful to parents who are feeling discouraged/concerned that they will never learn. Also, Miriam’s father emphasized that he saw the time he spent on her hair as quality time, not a miserable chore in the slightest.
Beth said:
I also have natural African American hair, and it hasn’t had chemicals in it for over 10 years. That said, it is only “wash & wear” if it is .25? or shorter–at which point everyone’s is. There are tons and tons of varieties of curly hair, and some of them are more delicate and work-intensive than others. Why is it that somehow admitting that some hair is more fragile and labor-intensive than other hair isn’t about simply stating difference, but is taken as a negative?
One of my friends, who is also African-American, has natural hair that functions entirely differently than mine, and hers is “wash & wear” at a length mine will never be. When I mentioned that some method she did “wouldn’t work” on my head, she took it to mean that I thought my hair was somehow not as nice as hers. That isn’t the case–I love my hair, and style it appropriately for its texture. I’ve spent several years learning how to care for it properly, it it isn’t the case that I haven’t discovered the way to make it “wash & wear.”
*******
I am not making the case that some hair is not more fragile than other care, or that some hair does not take longer to maintain than some other hair. It’s just that whether or not your hair is wash-and-wear is not determined by race. Your friend’s hair is wash-and-wear. So is mine. Yours is not. Neither is the hair of one of the previous posters. Black hair comes in a lot of varieties.
I agree that Miriam’s dad seemed to see time spent with his daughter as quality time. My problems with the article were not with Miriam’s dad, who seemed to be doing the things we hope all parents of little girls would do. My problem with the article was the way it was written, which seemed to amplify the stereotype of black, natural hair as exotic and problematic.
Tami,
” It takes no more time to throw a little black girl’s clean and moisturized hair into a pony puff than it does to throw a little white girl’s clean and moisturized hair into a ponytail. ”
If it were so easy….
As the white mom of three black daughters (one bio, three adopted), the last 28 years have been filled with hair care pitfalls for me. So much criticism. No matter what I did someone was telling me I was wrong. The strongest message I have heard over the years, though, is that if I don’t cornrow or braid it in some style I am not a good mom to my girls. And this comes from both the black and the white community.
Also, if I allow my daughters to have their hair natural, they are teased at school. And it is so painful for them when we pick out the tangles that result. So we braid and cornrow. And to be honest, my daughters and I all tire at the amount of time it takes.
Just a mom
The thing that struck me most about this article is that it must have been a very slow news day in Atlanta!
I am mom to a 2 year old daughter from China and a 9 month old son from the Democratic Republic of Congo. They have polar opposite hair. My stay at home husband manages to feed, bathe, dress, and do their hair everyday. And so far no one has stopped us on the street to criticize our children’s grooming. Now I must admit that hubby and I are not big hair people. He is bald and I keep mine cut as short as most men. I wish someone would come do a news story about my husband. He has sacraficed a lot to stay home with the kids.
whoops Can’t count. FOUR daughters. I have four daughters. And I hope that though we tire of the time it takes, my care for their hair and the lovely products that we use does convey to them that they are beautiful and worth it.
justamom
@ Tami
Tami said, “My problems with the article were not with Miriam’s dad, who seemed to be doing the things we hope all parents of little girls would do. My problem with the article was the way it was written, which seemed to amplify the stereotype of black, natural hair as exotic and problematic.”
Thanks for the clarification. I’m sorry I was so long-winded.
Justamom,
I totally sympathize. I can’t imagine the mixed messages that white parents of black children receive. (Witness the Zahara Jolie-Pitt brouhaha) I think Julia of Nobody Asked You is going to going to talk about this in her post.
Also, it bears exploring: How does one teach young, black girls to celebrate their hair as it is, when for the most part society does not celebrate black, natural hair? It is one thing for a grown woman to decide to resist societal norms, quite another to ask a child to do the same.
I think you haven’t seen hair that takes hours just to wash, condition and ponytail, simply because it is very thick. I had a few childhood friends who had a ton of hair, that was natural who were Black children. And their haircare was not quick, nor simple. It was just different. For instance it was easy for my hair to be parted down the middle and braided, but for them their hair was too thick to part easily and forget braiding into 2 braids, they had to have 6 or 7 braids for it to stay braided. Their hair was so thick that if you ran water over it, the underside layers would be bone dry, so you had to part and band each section just to wash it. It just was what it was for them. No big deal.
I also liked the article written by the dad. I think he and his daughter are building the foundation for a close relationship. By sitting at his feet getting her hair combed, she and he can hang out and chat, and judging from the photos of her hair, her hair looked pretty and very healthy.
Maybe there is a level of discomfort to be had about the White person teaching White people about Black hair thing, yet the article did not bother me, personally.
It took me forever to find the pictures from the article. I thought I’d post the link here:
http://shar.es/ijCA
The one sentence that jumped out at me from the article was this: “A plastic fork doubles as a rat-tail comb, just the right size for her tender nape, and he takes 10 passes with it.”
He combs her hair with a plastic fork? What on earth?!
I also found it bizarre that the author counted how many times the dad did this or that, i.e. “He gathers the hair into a ponytail, one hand over the other to get all the wisps, six times. He smooths it further, hand over hand again, 12 more times.” It makes the dad sound a little OCD, which I’m sure is not the intention of the article.
Beyond that, I think it’s great that the dad has taken the time to learn how to care for his daughter’s hair. But I agree that there is a tinge of something not quite right here – an almost anthopological fascination with the whole process on the part of the author . For example, “He sprays it with a brown froth called Carol’s Daughter Black Vanilla Leave-In Conditioner for Dry Hair.” A “brown froth”? Sounds a bit disgusting. Wow, black people sure come up with some crazy stuff to put in their hair, don’t they?
Yeah, the piece is a little off.
I think it is important to remember, as you said Tami, that “black hair” and “white hair” do not exist. There are many different types of hair and the differences within groups probably outweighs the differences between groups, if that makes any sense. For example, my son (biracial) has very curly, thick, and fluffy hair that is different textures in different places. My grandmother said that his hair in the front reminds her of her own and of my father’s hair (they are white). My husband said his own hair (which he hasn’t had since he was an adolescent, he shaves his head) is nothing like our son’s so he has no insight on how to “do” it. I just think that all hair is so unique and each person is unique in what they want from their hair and what they are willing to do for it that its pointless to generalize. I’m pretty low maintenance so my hair often looks like crap. But I don’t care. In my opinion, as long as its clean its not a big thing how it looks unless I’m going somewhere special. When it comes to my son, I feel a lot of pressure to make it look good, but I do have to remind myself that he’s just a little boy and toddlers often have messy hair. Its more important for my son to be able to go outside and explore and play than it is for me to spend time making it look all “nice and perfect” (whatever that means) just so he can put dirt and strawberries in it.
I am white and Native American, yet my hair defies the stereotypes of what it ought to be. A previous commenter mentioned hair that needed to be banded in order to be washed- that is my hair, also. It is not curly, but extremely thick and coarse. I can walk through pouring rain and my neck will stay dry.
I cannot grow it past a certain length without it becoming hours of work a day.
On the article, I see places where they are exoticizing the hair-doing process. I chalk it up to a naive writer.
“an almost anthopological fascination with the whole process on the part of the author”
Yes! That’s exactly it. It just reads a little . . . bizzarre. The same thing could have been said without sounding like the process was akin to some mythical secret ritual. Although, kudos to this dad. When I ask my son to comb through my daughter’s hair, he acts like his wrists have been broken. I seem to remember my own father acting the same way. What’s the term for that? Learned helplessness? Bah! But I digress . . .
I think this hair conversation is such a good one to have, and I’m really learning a lot as an adoptive parent. We do get a lot of mixed messages. When we first adopted transracially we had social workers constantly barraging us with hair drama. “The hair. The HAIR! What will you white people do with THE HAIR!” Seriously, it all made us feel very intimidated, and as has been mentioned, also gave the impression that black hair needed to be managed, was high maintenance, problematic, etc. In the end, it was a learning curve to be sure, but certainly not problematic. I’m really glad I found some great resources (napturality.com being a big one). And if I tallied up the amount of time spent on my little blonde’s straight hair versus the time I spent on my son’s natural african hair when it was longer, it was about the same per week. Again, just different.
Perhaps this has been mentioned before, but did I hear Chris Rock was doing a documentary about hair?
Okay, in that last post I meant to say that my *husband* pretended not to know how to comb my daughter’s hair. NOT my *son*. Um, Freudian slip???
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Just today a stranger approached my 2 year old daughter and I at the playground, commenting on how difficult it must be to care for her hair. Unbelievable! I assured her that I love my daughter’s hair – it is beautiful and I can’t wait for it to grow longer. I guess the real question is how can we stop people from being ignorant and rude!