Throughout time, hair has been part of the establishment of understanding ones identity, especially when it comes to women. Many try to stereotype African hair by hyphenating American to the end, but physical attributes are determined by lineage, not geography. In African American culture, hair is one of the few characteristics that connect individuals back to their African ancestry. African American women can find a foundation of black pride through their hair, but they can also discover a source of humiliation and identity confusion as well. Marcus Garvey expressed that African Americans must “remove the kinks from [their] minds, not [their] hair” meaning that they should ignore society’s expectations and embrace not only their beautiful kinky hair, but their identity as an African American. By choosing to style hair in a significant way defines not only who an individual is, but the acceptance of their heredity.
When Europeans began exploring Africa, the encountered intriguing hairstyles such as braids with shells, beads, or material woven in and shaved patterns close to the scalp. During this time hair was more than enhancing an individual’s outer appearance, it had “social, aesthetic, and spiritual significance” which was essential to understanding their sense of worth for centuries (Patton 6). When the Europeans realized the role that hair played in their culture, the first oppressive thing they did was shave Africans’ heads, leaving them no longer with an identity. Many wore head scarves to hide the damage that had been done and because they did not have access to their traditional styling tools they had to come up with other hairstyles that would leave them somewhat satisfied.
African American women began to feel more ...
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... her disapproval with a contradiction remark, “If God had intended your hair to look like that, he would have made it that way!” These types of comments only deepened the idea of double consciousness in African American women’s lives. Their hair was intended to look that way, but yet many claimed that this was not so.
When it comes to hair, women in general have it tough when it comes to deciding how they will style their hair, especially when it comes to African American women. For generations many have tried to decide what it means to have “good” hair or “bad” hair. Though these women may not always understand their African ancestry, they can accept the attributes that they have that make them who they are. By letting go of what society thinks is acceptable, these women will allow themselves to embrace not only their inheritance, but their individuality as well.
This essay is concerned with issues of identity, body image and the politics of hair within African American culture. It discusses the lived experiences of a number of African American women and is no way generalizable to all African American women. Nonetheless, body image and hair politics are prominent features in African American culture because they have deep historical roots and still feature in present day. Body image is generally understood as a mental image of one’s body as it appears to others (Featherstone 2010). This mental image produces body consciousness, which Samantha Kwan describes as an amplified mindfulness that one’s body does not conform to hegemonic cultural standards (Kwan 2010). In today’s modern context, hegemonic cultural norms are reproduced and widely disseminated by the mass media with the help of new technologies. These new technologies Elliott’s discusses, with some in the form of satellite television and other widely utilized media, give viewers unprecedented opportunities to view and scrutinize their favorite celebrities in close proximity (Elliott 2010).
Many people say that African-American women natural beauty isn’t the white supremacist look but fail to realize that when straightening your hair or looking a certain way minimizes their self-actualization to present themselves as an individual. By hiding your true beauty (meaning expressing yourself through the way you look) brings self-esteem issues because you are constantly putting yourself down when you find yourself looking more natural than different. For example Hook states, “within white supremacist capitalist patriarchy, the social and political context in which the custom of black folks straightening our hair emerges, it represents an imitation of the dominant white groups appearance and often indicates internalized racism, self-hatred, and/or low self-esteem” (336). That indicates that the illogical beauty standards of white supremacy brings women self-esteem to rock bottom and sooner or later make them hate the way they were born/created as an
Some black women have taken it upon themselves to fight what they perceive as racial discrimination against black women maintaining natural hair. It is not uncommon to see many young women creating blogs to share insights about how natural hair can be maintained and the need for African women to accept this as part of their identity
Black women have been the essence of style, originality all while receiving nothing but bad response from critics who secretly envy them. Natural hair tends to be another widespread trend. I think that some do the natural so they can connect with their African roots while I think others just like the look, or maybe it’s easier. No matter what grade of hair society has one marked term for black hair which is “nappy”. Besides pertaining to actions, the word ghetto is used to describe just about every aspect of a black girl's life. "Girl your hair look ghetto" and "You talk/sound ghetto" are two common phrases used around school. Colored hair, weaves, extensions, dyes and relaxers/perms are all things black girls have encountered. If your hair looks "too" nice, it's assumed that you're wearing weave or that you've gotten a fresh
Hair Care is another popular africanism present in America for African americans. For african american woman going for a natural hairstyle is quite common. Dating back to pre-colonial africa a natural afro hair style defined status and identity. Different styles indicated certain qualitie...
African American hair looks gorgeous, attractive and beautiful. Your hair is extremely fragile and needs proper care and gentle touch so that it doesn’t break or get loose. Here are the top African American hair cares FAQs.
The article Straightening My Hair by Bell Hooks makes her argument of finding the reason of why African American women straighten their hair. She first states that Black Americans straighten their hair because it is the stage of transformation; it closes the door of innocence and opens the door to adulthood. Slowly, she starts changing her views. She comes up with the statement that African Americans do not straighten their hair for reasonable reasons, but to imitate the characteristics of white women. She informs that black people repeat this process because they have low self-acceptance of their roots and background, and that they have lost beauty in themselves. My argument against this statement is that it is erroneous to claim that the straightening of African American hair is misinterpreted as their acceptance into the white community; straightening of hair is the symbolism of impending womanhood, closing the door of innocence, and sharing a time to meditate by relaxing your soul.
In this paper I’m going to show how African Americans have used hip hop and black hair are two ways in which African Americans embrace their culture and fight oppression. However, as we have reviewed in many classes, oppression is not easily escaped. So in this paper, I’m going to show how cultural appropriation is used as a way of oppressing black culture. So this paper is an expansion of what we have learned in the class.
There have been musicals, documentaries, researches, panel discussions and even talk shows about hair, hair qualities and hairstyles, even Oprah Gail Winfrey chose hair for the magazine's September 2013 theme. According to Adlman (2013), Oprah Winfrey in a video interview said, Women, we have issues with our hair, [Black women's] hair represents the first thing anyone sees of them, or of ourselves, and so we identify with what our hair looks like. The History of Black Hair: Hair Story by Ayana Byrd and Lori Tharps (2002) is an entertaining, concise survey that follows a mostly sequential path which begins in Africa and ends in America. It details the roots of black hair care in America, from centuries ago to the modern day, outlining how much hair truly signifies much of African culture. “Ever since African civilisations bloomed, hairstyles have been used to indicate a person’s marital status, age, religion, ethnic identity, wealth and rank within the community” (2002:3)
In the recent past year or two, a woman’s natural hair has become a big thing. Before, African American women, to be specific, were so disgusted by their hair. They would do anything in their power to change the “nappy” aspect of their hair to “beautiful”. They would use relaxers very so often and hot combs.
By the twentieth century, slavery had damaged black pride, and made it known that black features were inferior. When it came to black women and their hair, black women desperately wanted to match the standard of “white” beauty. Walker’s solution to this was to create a look that was Afro-American without trying to imitate whites. Walker spoke about beauty emphasizing that to be beautiful does not refer to the complexion of your skin, or the texture of your hair, but having a beautiful mind, soul, and character.
One of women’s constant struggles is upkeep with culture and society’s ever-changing definition of beauty. Although both genders have hair on their bodies, the views and acceptability of the amount or the location of body hair vary immensely. In fact, women are often thought to be hairless and men to be hairier (DeMello, 2014). Women must then put in effort to uphold a standard, in which the idea that being feminine is natural and effortless (Toerien and Wilkinson, 2003). That being the case, I will argue that the hairless female body has been transformed over time to represent beauty and youth. More importantly, I will argue that it has now become normative in Western society and deemed unacceptable if women do not conform to the hairless
Almost 250 years of slavery and anti-blackness within the United States has created a divide in what type of hair is acceptable. According to Cynthia L. Robinson, “Black hair texture is graded” (Robinson 2011). Precisely, this means that a Black woman has either good hair or bad hair. Good hair has a resemblance of European hair texture, meaning straight and wavy curls. Good hair also diminishes the look of African ancestry. Bad is the complete opposite. The texture is kinky, coiled, and thick, giving the appearance of short hair (Robinson 2011). Hair that bears a resemblance to Eurocentric beauty standards is more beautiful and makes the individual with that hair type more beautiful as well (Robinson
Don’t touch my hair: this should be a sentiment simple enough to understand. However, for many black women this establishment of boundaries can be broken repeatedly and without any regard for personal space. Solange Knowles’ song “Don’t Touch My Hair” and accompanying music video takes this declaration of self and creates an anthem for the empowerment of black women and dismissal of microagressions, white beauty standards, jealousy and appropriation. Her lyrics emphasize the emotional connection that black women have to their hair. But, beyond this pride is an act of self-love militant and radical against white standards of beauty; or is this self-love subscribing to the notion that black women’s hair is an object detached from their personhood- objectifying themselves to other’s gazes and not subverting them? In order to answer this question, theories from Helen
Describing the hair salon experience as “of something organic dying which should not have died,” Ifemelu expresses regret for this attempt at conforming to American standards. Therefore, Ifemelu grieves the loss of her identity as she leaves the hair salon. After “she breezed through the job interview,” Ifemelu wonders “if the [interviewer] would have felt the same way had she walked into that office wearing her thick, kinky, God-given halo of hair, the Afro” (252). By describing her hair as a “God-given halo,” Ifemelu captures the sanctity of her natural hair (252). Despite her success in the interview process, Ifemelu remains disgruntled about her new relaxed hair, which “is like being in a prison” (257). Desperate to resist caving into the pressure of assimilating into American culture and to reconnect with her Nigerian roots, Ifemelu allows Wambui to cut her hair, “leaving only two inches, the new growth since her last relaxer” (258). While Ifemelu initially cedes to American beauty standards to achieve success, she ultimately rejects them to stay aligned with her Nigerian