Is Black hair a Vulnerably, or a Positivity?
A reported personal essay by Shelby-Liza Ndumbi
When I look at my hair, I see roughness, difficulty, hours of pulling and straightening just to get it to stay still.
I recall some memories of when I was little, a time before 10-years-old that I wore my natural hair stylized in unique braiding versions of cornrows with coloured beads at the end. Or my hair was relaxed with the aid of products and turned into a small ponytail for parties, birthdays, BBQs.
I remember another moment where Black natural hair was seen in a much more appealing light. The lead actress in Grown-ish, Yara Shahidi’s hair is mesmerizingly beautiful. She has these natural curls that look amazing. When I think positivity in Black hair, I think of hers. I don’t have the amount of hair that she has, mine is more in the middle. Not too much, but not too little either.
That’s when hair was done simply for a simple age. Extensions (“mesh” in the French language) wasn’t used on my head till later. I don’t think I could’ve handled the number of hours spent on my ass waiting for the completion of my braids. I still can’t. It hurts.
The last time I wore my natural hair in public was back in 2017 when I tried to style my own bun only for it to not look the way I wanted to, so it wasn't the best. But I posted it on Instagram regardless knowing that I looked great.
I can’t say for sure that Black hair is a vulnerability because of the plus that comes along with it. Confidence/Self-esteem. Yet, it does raise questions about how the majority of Black women feel about their natural locks.
In this case we would use other styles other than our original to add beauty to our heads. The word ‘wig’ here is a metaphor for braids, crow shays, weaves, or an actual wig that helps cover our natural hair.
Now, Hortense Masengi is a 57-year-old African mother, born and raised in Congo. Just like every other Black kid who sat between their mother’s legs, having her brush and pull their hair straight enough to stylize, she grew up with those moments at home.
When she was little, less than 10 years old, staying with her natural hair back in Congo knowing it was everywhere, it felt simpler then than when she moved to Toronto.
But there is another note, Hortense's reasoning behind her wearing wigs today on occasion was because Black hair in general takes time to com, energy to take care of, a complex routine compared to our White counterparts, and overall, our hair is the most daring among others. It requires a different form of attention.
“When you don’t have time to make it look nice, what do you do? You’re going to hide it because I’m not seeing myself at my best. I didn’t have time; my hair looks crazy.”
My hair now looks unprepared, unmatched, not me for it to be shown to the rest of the world. Quite frankly, I’d feel uncomfortable. When I wake up in the morning, I look at my locks sometimes, wondering if I should do something with it.
Given how massively different Black hair is to everyone else’s, I do find it hard to keep up. There are times I see it as a hazardous waste that won’t clean up and stay that way. Why can’t it be more manageable?
“It’s just hair, but it’s also our culture.” said Hortense “There's nothing really special about my hair, or African people hair. We're born with that, so we get used to it.”
No matter how complex my hair is to White people, I still love it very much. I remind myself of all the countless styles we have that they don’t. That my hair can, dare I say, do anything.
Yara Shahidi does these talks about hair routine. How she continues to brighten her hair by taking the time when you have time. Hortense believes that any Black women shouldn’t subject themselves at a minimum when it comes to the beauty of their hair. That it's both vulnerability and positivity.
It’s vulnerable because when you edit your head too much up to a point where it no longer looks like you and more of what society molds you as, it dents what you really think about your hair due to other opinions. It’s not the easiest to shape. Yet it’s also a positivity given how Black hair breaks ties from any other. It’s the only one of its kind.
Dauntless.
We may have some hostilities with our locks beyond belief, but it’s ours and loving it is the first step towards full acceptance.
Everyone is welcome.
Love. Share. Comment. 😊
TOP PHOTO: Credit to the artist, who posted it on Pinterest
I also want to point out that we should embrace our natural hair more often because being too dependent on styled black hairstyles can lead to hair loss;
the medical term being alopecia.
Over the years, I have developed Central Centrifugal Cicatricial Alopecia (CCCA) which means that I have lost hair in the middle of my head. There isn’t much research on it because the cause of this condition is still unknown. However, a lot of studies believe that it’s caused by heat, chemicals from hair products and tight braids as CCCA is mostly seen among African Americans.
I share this because I want to bring awareness to the condition but also mention that allowing our hair to breathe is…
Lovely post! I like the message of realizing that our hair is a vulnerability but having to accept it and realize that there is beauty in our hair.
Although our hair isn’t always seen in a positive light within the American media and Eurocentric beauty standard, black hair is beautiful because it can, “do anything” like you said.