written by Love Isn’t Enough editor Tami Winfrey Harris; originally published at What Tami Said
I once wrote about my natural hair:
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. Read more…
I may love my hair. But common wisdom, even among people with hair just like mine, is that my hair isn’t “good,” at least as it naturally grows from my head. It needs to be tamed, preferably by straightening, but at the very least, especially in young children, hair like mine should be restrained somehow–in plaits or cornrows or something that hides its unruly nature. It should be shiny. You should be able to run a comb through it. All this, in defiance of the natural properties of most black hair.
I suspect Newsweek writer Allison Samuels follows this common wisdom.
Two weeks ago she sparked furor around the ‘Net with an article taking Angelina Jolie to task for her daughter Zahara’s allegedly uncared for tresses:
But even the mothers who spare the hot comb still have to put time and effort into keeping hair healthy: Any self-respecting black mother knows that she must comb, oil, and brush her daughter’s hair every night. This prevents the hair from matting up, drying out, and breaking off. It also prevents any older relatives from asking them why you’re neglecting your child and letting her run around looking like a wild woman. Having well-managed hair is not just about style, it’s about pride, dignity, and self-respect. Keeping your daughter’s hair neat is an unspoken rule of parental duties that everyone in the community recognizes and respects. Read more…
In the face of considerable backlash, Samuels didn’t back down. In a Newsweek online exclusive this week, Samuels answers her critics:
Still, I’m undeterred by the venom shown to me on the Web. I continue to believe Angelina Jolie should take better care of Zahara’s hair. Hey, if Maddox can get blond highlights and a Mohawk, Zahara can at least get a quick top knot and rubber band. Is that asking too much? Read more…
“A top knot and a rubber band…”
There is a lot I could challenge in Samuels’ articles: The ugliness of picking on a young girls’ looks in a national magazine; the wrongess of applying black American cultural standards to blacks from other places (Latoya Peterson tackles this well on Jezebel); or the unfair burden put on white mothers of black and biracial girls when it comes to hair. My blogsister Renee asked me if people would be so critical of Zahara’s hair if her mother was a black woman presumed to know a thing or two about textured hair. I think not.
I will confine this post to one point: Samuels seems to embrace the notion, a gift of society’s Eurocentric beauty standards, that tamed hair = healthy hair, and unfettered black hair = hot mess. What’s worse, she wants little Zahara to learn to embrace this thinking, too–a terrible lesson for a girl with tresses that naturally feature fuzzy parts and curls that spring akimbo.
In a society with Eurocentric beauty standards, it is natural that hair common to people of European ancestry would be the marker for beauty, professionalism and good grooming. And it is natural, though I think not good for us, that those of minority cultures have absorbed the standards of the dominant culture and adopted beauty rituals that support those standards.
This is why so many of us have memories of sitting at our mother’s or grandmothers’ knees, holding our ears and listening to sizzling grease, as our hair was tamed into a straight, shiny, combable mass and woven into multiple neat plaits. Most of us remember this bonding time fondly. But, in reality, straight, shiny, combable and neat are NOT markers of whether black hair is cared for or not. That so many of us, including Samuels, think these descriptors are related to hair health shows how much we have absorbed the idea that hair common to people of European ancestry is the norm by which all other hair must be judged. As I type this, my ginormous twist out is shiny, but not straight, combable or neat, And, I promise you, my hair is very well cared for.
Yes, I know that braiding has deep roots in African culture and is an ingrained part of black American culture. My beef isn’t with plaiting; my beef is with the fear of the nap–the idea that unrestrained black hair, apart from other hair, is unacceptable. To many of us with natural hair, Zahara seems to be wearing a wash-and-go. But most of us are taught that black women can’t simply wash their hair and go. Our hair has to be “fixed,” made presentable. I think this hair hatred was born and nurtured right here in Western culture where the yardstick by which we judge our hair’s beauty and health and rituals of care is invariably a white one.
Samuels says:
Unacceptable! For good measure let me explain once more what I consider unacceptable for a 4-year-old baby: uncombed, unconditioned, and unbrushed.
I would debate that daily combing and brushing are part of necessary care of black, natural hair. And I would point out that so few black American women wear their hair naturally that most of us know as much about its care as Angelina Jolie does. (Yeah, I said it.) There is no way of knowing whether Zahara’s hair is conditioned by scanning papparazi shots. You can’t assess its softness. You can’t check for split ends. You can’t see breakage. What Samuels is reacting to, I think, is the fact that Zahara’s hair is “wild” and unrestrained. And black women and girls are taught that this isn’t okay. It isn’t pretty. It isn’t proper. It isn’t professional. It isn’t ladylike.
I’m not a member of the Jolie-Pitt household, so I can’t assume to know their thought process or intentions. But one thing I do know is that girlie girls usually like to have their hair combed.
Yep, “girlie girls” deserve tamed, combed, sweet hair, not kinky, curly ‘fros.
Trust me, I really do applaud Jolie and Pitt for bringing needy children into their lives and their home. But it doesn’t and can’t end once you get them in the house. As I said before, self-esteem and confidence can be just as vital as food and shelter if the child is to become a contributing member of society. As wonderful and as lavish as Zahara’s life may be right now, it won’t mean much if she ends up having serious issues with her identity and place in the world. If she’s already asking about her hair, it means she’s already thinking about her looks and how she fits in. At some point, Angelina will have to try to answer those questions. It won’t be easy. But the actress should know that the next time Zahara asks about hair, it won’t be why her hair isn’t similar to others in her house. It will be why her hair doesn’t look like other brown girls’ does.
In another post, we can talk about Samuels’ patronizing use of “needy” to describe the Jolie-Pitt’s brown children. But I’ll say this–I agree with Samuels that most little, black girls would NOT be comfortable wearing their natural hair loose as Zahara does. That is, in great part, because of the unrelenting messages they get, within and without our black culture, that their hair is inherently wrong. Must Zahara adopt these feelings of self hatred to earn her black card? I like to think, as a black woman who has wrestled and come to terms with her own hair issues, my job is to help free the girls in my life from damaging self hatred not encourage it as a litmus test for fitting in.
Instead of teaching Zahara to conform, as Samuels would advocate, I suspect her mom and dad are teaching her to love herself, including her hair, the way it is–whether in multiple braids and beads or flying free. Later, Zahara can wear her hair however she pleases–a bald fade, an assymetrical bob, dreds, or long, flowing and bright red. If her parents are successful, she will make those decisions free of feelings of hatred for her natural hair and without the pressure of judgement from people like Samuels who seek to impose their own hair “issues” on another.
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.
This was a beautiful, well-reasoned post. Your arguments get right to the heart of things. And I love your poetic description of your hair!
Hey Tami, if that picture on your blog is you with natural hair, rock on. It looks good. I kind of envy my wife for only needing to wash her hair every week or so and basically never needing a haircut.
The most frightening quote in that article to me was ’3 is too young to feel different.’ Geez, the US is bland enough as it is.
Great post. I’m not an angelina jolie fan, but I really think people should back off of her kids. I also think its interesting that Samuels’ main argument against Zahara ever wearing free hair is that its not “socially acceptable.”
Then she argues that Maddox has an elaborate mohawk, so Zahara should have her hair styled more often. Died mohawks are also not particularly “socially acceptable” hair style for children.
As the white mom of an black daughter I find myself threading the needle, perhaps unsuccessfully, on this issue. I don’t want my any of my kids to feel the need to confirm to rigid societal ideas of beauty, particularly Euro-centric ones. I hope that by being confident myself I help a little bit — I don’t wear makeup, color my grey hair, wear the latest ‘in’ styles, etc. Not, of course, that any of that is “right”, it’s just not necessarily the norm. Meanwhile, I do try to put my daughter’s hair in pretty typical styles for my area — usually twists, braids, or puffs — that don’t require daily combing to such an extent as her hair would if it were free. When she gets old enough to express a preference she can do whatever she pleases (short of using chemicals which are a no-go in this house) with her hair — free, short, long, in twists/braids/locks. It’s beautiful no matter what she does with it.
I wear locs and before that I wore my hair in a ‘fro and different styles. All naturally nappy hair.
And I still don’t like little girls wearing their hair out, because I know from experience (of wearing my hair out as a little girl) that the detangling sessions were long and sometimes painful..because my naturally nappy hair tends to get dry and tangled in the middle of my ‘fro from running and playing all day. (Which is why that was rare for me to experience as a child–and I was happy to run around with my hair out…but my mama wanted to be sure to protect my hair from breakage)
Wanting a ponytail or braids in a child’s hair is not equal to wanting the hair controlled.
It is just a way to avoid the tears of that detangling session that comes after shampooing and conditioning the hair.
There is a myth that natural hair = no maintence at all… that you don’t have to do anything to it…and I’ve seen dry broken off pieces of hair in Black and biracial children’s naturally nappy heads as a result of this thinking.
You can be pro-natural and pro-braids or ponytails for children until they are grown enough to gently detangle and moisturize their own hair.
BTW I love Tami Winfrey Harris’s hair. It is gorgeous. I have washed conditioned and moisturized many a head of hair like hers and mine and my sister’s and my mama’s and my son’s and so on.
Allison Samuels’ “answer” to critics is even more ignorant than her original article. She still seems to miss which is, for many, the key point: it was not appropriate to berate this child and her appearance for the sake of saying something about her grown, celebrity mother.
We really have no way of knowing if “mom and dad are teaching her to love herself, including her hair, the way it is.” Maybe they are and maybe they are not. But it is not for us to judge– certainly not from afar.
Between this article and discussion of Rock’s film (and ongoing discussion about Michelle Obama’s and daughters’ hair), the fault lines really are becoming public with some Black women. I have heard outmoded comments about natural hair being “unkempt” and “unprofessional” and I have also heard equally outmoded comments about Black women without natural hair being “less authentic” and “self-hating.”
That anyone should feel the need to judge others on the basis of their or their children’s hair reveals more about the commenters the the objects of discussion.
if people would be so critical of Zahara’s hair if her mother was a black woman presumed to know a thing or two about textured hair. I think not.
Actually, I think many folks would be more critical. I recall some comments along those lines among Black people about Malia Obama’s twists and “What was Michelle thinking letting her wear her hair like that…”
When my daughters were little I was on the receiving end of a lot of comments and “advice” about my girls’ natural styles–from family members but also from complete strangers.
When I was 6 years old, my mother used to take me in to get my hair permed. Now I look back and think, “Who in the world thought it was okay to put such toxic chemicals anywhere near a child’s head?”
I find Samuels’ message really disturbing. I can’t even imagine a 4-year-old white girl (or her mother for that matter!) getting half of the criticism that Samuels feels entitled to dishing out. She justifies this by saying having “bad” hair will damage Zahara’s self-esteem in the future. And what, pray tell, are articles in a national magazine that disparage one’s childhood appearance supposed to do for one’s self-esteem? How terribly bizarre.
I’ll start with we need to love our children for who they are right now and not for who we want them to become. How do we know if Zahara doesn’t prefer her hair in its natural state? She’s old enough to express her own likes and dislikes.
I have a friend who’s daughter has been successfully modeling for several years now. She is often asked to leave her hair in a natural state and gets the most recognition by virtually everyone when she does. She is a beautiful young woman in any state but goes off the charts with her hair in a natural state. Despite all of the positive attention, she still doesn’t feel comfortable wearing here hair naturally in the day to day. She infers so much negativity from the attention she gets. The life long message to conform is more powerful than all the subsequent positive feedback.
I’m beginning to think Samuels is a pompous ass.
Great post Tami. I remember the contempt with which people spoke with they talked about my thick nappy hair. I remember many a hot comb session with grease burning the back of my necks and the comb the tips of my ears. For years I struggled with perms and jheri curls and itchy, itchy synthetic hair in braids. Then finally in college I met a few Black women who were proud of their hair. They introduced me to the beauty of my own hair, and I have never looked back. Whether it was an afro, twists, knots, shaved, or locs I have never felt more comfortable in my own skin. And I know that my comfort in being a Black woman began with me first embracing my hair.
I don’t have any daughters. (Two sons and another on the way.) But I’m glad that more and more women are discovering the beauty of Black hair of all textures. I know that I would have been a much happier child – not to mention a happier and healthier teen and young adult – if only I had not been told for years and years that my ashy skin and nappy hair made somehow less beautiful than other little girls in the world. I grew up feeling less worthy of love and protection because I was somehow just a little too rough around the edges. And that roughness that I just couldn’t shave always seemed to start with the fact that i was such a nappy-headed little girl.
Thanks for the great post. And Samuels should be ashamed of herself, but not ashamed of her hair.
Tami, what a great article.
@Rachel, me too…and I have a son! Honestly, I dread hair politics so much that, although I want a daughter, I am afraid of doing (or not doing) her hair. I have had people comment both positively and negatively to my son’s hair when it is both “done” (meaning spritzed with conditioning and detangling spray and combed through with my fingers or a wide-tooth comb) and when it is completely free (a curly, tangled, fluffy puff). I have NO CLUE how I will navigate longer hair. Already I struggle: do I make my son scream b/c he doesn’t want to sit still so I can “do” his hair (maybe making him feel like his hair = pain) or do I get words from my in-laws (and strangers) because it looks too messy (making him feel that his hair = different = bad)? I want him to love his hair–but I am not always sure how best to support that love. My most recent solution: getting it cut shorter so that its easy to comb through (we were waiting until we knew he could handle sitting for the cut). For a girl? I haven’t a clue.
In childhood, my mother had a way of shutting down a friend or family member’s attempts to shame her for how she styled our hair. Nobody was allowed to put down my hair or speak of bad or good hair in her or her children’s presence. She immediately let them know all well cared for hair is good. Some folks didn’t like certain hairstyles I had but quickly hushed up when my mother said “Her hair is beautiful” or “This is how she likes wearing it” or “That is none of your concern, isn’t it?”
And the response was ohh okay no problem.
I don’t think Zahara is reading this thread but I suspect her mother has the same confidence that my mother had in handling those who chose to comment negatively on her child’s hair to her face….just a vibe I get from Angelina Jolie as a mother.
@Montclair Mommy — I’ve grown to love, and I mean love, doing hair with my daughter. It’s become a ritual for us all — picking up new beads at the bead store and deciding which ones to use, combing with a wide tooth comb & lots of conditioner in the tub, then twists & beading at the table with plenty of good YouTube videos to watch. My 4 y/o loves having her hair beaded, too, although I need to braid her hair and redo it more often since it’s so straight and fine.
As for the pain thing, my 4 y/o with her stick-straight hair yells far louder than my 2 y/o about all things hair — washing, brushing, everything. Sometimes kids just yell!
I don’t get it. Is this woman nuts? At 16, I rebelled against the oppressive hair regime that said my hair was only “good” when straightened. For 16 years, I had burnt ears, burnt hair, headaches from having it brushed and combed when it was dry, headaches from having it pulled into elaborate ponytails.
Our hair type is not supposed to be combed when dry (only wet) and certainly never brushed. Samuels doesn’t know a damn thing about natural hair, otherwise she’d note that the photos she uses to “cry bloody murder” over Zahara’s hair, only serve to prove how healthy the child’s hair is.
We’re not animals that need to be “tamed.”
As a white person, the thought of a rubber band in my hair is horrifying. Maybe in the ends of braids, but to secure a top knot or a pony tail? Ouch!
In my experience, white girlie (or otherwise) girls who have long hair do not like having their hair combed. It hurts! As with black hair, it’s best to comb white hair gently with a wide-toothed comb when it’s wet. Never brush it. And coincidentally, my mother made me wear my hair in 2 long braids to keep it neat and prevent “rat’s nests”, except on Sundays, when I could wear my hair down. I’m starting to wonder if white and black hair care are really so different, except black hair seems to need less frequent washing and more moisture, and it has more styling options. (My hair would slip out of a french braid unless all the ends were long enough to secure in the hair band.)
However, I definitely had a much different hair experience than what I hear from black women. For many years, I felt my long hair was the only attractive thing about me. I will always remember when I was a kid (6? 8?) and I overheard a younger girl saying to her parents, “when I’m older, I want my hair to be just like *hers* (gesturing at me)!” This comment just thrilled me. There was no question about its sincerity. How many black girls hear things like this?
I think Adrienne has a good point about how beyond cultural norms and all that, when those of us with black daughters braid their hair it is usually for the much more practical reason of avoiding the detangling, and the pain and time involved in that.
Although I often find Angelina Jolie tacky and annoying, I’ve got to speak out against this line: “one thing I do know is that girlie girls usually like to have their hair combed.”
What universe is this movie set in? My daughters both DESPISE having their hair combed. My older daughter’s (long, thick, wavy-curly) hair mats up if a drop of sweat even looks at it, forming horrible birds’ nests that are extremely painful to detangle. I tell her almost every day that if she brushed it more often the tangles would be much more manageable, but being an actual kid living in the real world, there are always a thousand things she’d rather do than brush tangles out of her hair. And she can’t ever seem to keep her hair tied, either. Braids, ponytails, what have you, all seem to have burst their bonds by the end of the school day, leaving her hair wild and free, with a mat inevitably starting to form in the middle of it all.
Maybe the girlie girls whose hair is smooth as silk and never gets matted love to have it combed. My daughters don’t, and I suspect Zahara Jolie doesn’t, either.
Having read the original article in its entirety now, I can say that I have another HUGE problem with it: “One truism of childhood is that nothing is more important than being like everyone else.” Jackson really takes this idea and runs with it, too. We need to fit in. We need to not give the aunties any excuse to criticize our mother’s domestic skills. We need to remember that everyone is watching us and judging us and we represent ourselves and our families!
Here’s my version: There is nothing at all important about being like everybody else. We have more than enough sameness in America, and it has never helped a single child to be happier or more self-fulfilled than s/he would have been if allowed to go wild and do hir own thing. Sameness is monotony. Sameness perpetuates xenophobia, and racism, and picking on the one or two kids who will never be able to fit in because of physical, emotional, ethnic or religious differences. Our children are not soldiers, and they don’t represent us. They represent themselves. Every one of them is unique.
I suspect, based on Maddox’s mohawk, Angie’s tattoos and the little fact that she used to wear a vial of Billy Bob’s blood around her neck, that Angelina belongs to the “be yourself” tribe too.
@sharon – your writing style seems somehow familiar to me… (:
You all made very good points…I agree!
My hat is off to Rachel…you sound like a wonderful mom. Your daughter is very lucky. Some mothers, whether black or white, don’t care.
I’m not a fan of Angelina Jolie, but I will agree that her attitude toward the media is refreshing.
I hated having my hair combed as a little girl. I still do. A wide-tooth comb, cold water, and lots of shea butter conditioner works.
As to Samuels…she needs to check herself. Being feminine has nothing to do with race or hair type.
I’m biracial, both black AND white. My hair has been relaxed since I was about 11. Now I’m 26. I’m considering natural hair.
There is a myth that all biracial women “should” have soft, flowing curls. I don’t. I have long, puffy hair.
I’m a complete “girlie girl”. If I could, I would wear high heels and skirts every day. I love Marilyn Monroe. I love showing off my cleavage. I love lipstick. I love nail polish. I love frilly, sexy lingerie. I love having womanly curves. I love beautiful clothes and shoes.
It bothers me that Samuels seems to be stating that natural hair cannot be feminine, pretty, sexy, or gorgeous. Beauty should not be defined by the state of one’s hair.