Hair Woes of the Black Kind

"Nappy hair is unprofessional" said the sista on Tyra Banks What is Good Hair? Show. It hurt to listen to the words as they thundered and lightened their way out of her mouth but the deepest pain came from realizing that she saw nothing wrong with her statement. Apparently, she's tricked her mind into believing that she'd been treated with straight hair as she came out of her maker. I guess had it not been for Madam CJ Walker, black women would never be employable. After all, women are hired for the decorum they bring to the boardroom, properly painted in MAC and draped in Marc Jacobs scantily hung best which is really Marshall's doorbuster trinkets. In other words, me, a black woman, in my natural state will never be professional enough to be accepted by the ranks of shotcallers, vp's, account execs, coordinators, directors, and cubicle crusaders all because of the hair I was born with? But wait, there's more*Dick Vital voice*!

I also found out that good hair has the "white girl flow," meaning when I shake my head from side to side my hair will cascade around my neck like a loosely insane child throwing a tantrum. This is the pinnacle of melanin rich feminine existence, white girl flow. And honey, if you don't have it naturally (which none do) and the relaxer won't make it bouncy, you had better get your nappy-headed behind down to the Asians to apprehend that Yakky(jokes on you) number 9, even though your white girl flow might bottle neck due to the excessive heaviness of horse tail attached to your head. I sound kind of angry huh? Please don't take it personal but make no mistake about it, I'm dishing it so it can be taken. I won't get any further into the show because this blog would be far too long. However, I would be remissed not to comment on how pleasantly niggerish Tyra looked with her beautiful black(which I'm sure she had to spray paint them this color) cornrows in her hair-for a day only. Of course, the straight hair with the split down the middle is the only way to get the "white girl flow," which again is the *say it with me* pinnacle of melanain rich feminine existence. Suffice it to say, that style didn't make it another 24 hours on her head.

If you haven't deducted this by now, I have natural hair. I was born this way but I began my relaxing process at the tender age of 8, although I had much prior experience with what they call the hot (pressing) comb. I loved my grandmother to life for making my hair so long and silky....wow, it made me feel airy and flightly like butterflies with the boldly colored radiance of purple gardenias among dead grass. On those days, I much preferred sitting under the tree as opposed to climbing it. I don't recall my first relaxer but the feeling of opened, burning flesh, and scalp sores with flawlessly straightened hair stuck to them-is resting peacefully in the graveyard of my mind beneath a headstone that reads "Love Yourself." Albeit, a slave of the trade because there was nothing I feared more than being without my relaxer(or perm as some who don't even care to READ the jar would say)-it was all I knew. It began to sadden me that I had no recollection of what my real hair looked and felt like. I felt more and more dead in the head as the days went by and I reflected on the truth that relaxers where literally changing the chemical bonds in my hair and permenantly altering it's condition. It's like bleaching black clothes. Yes you want them to be clean but you are completely destroying the garment when you use the WRONG thing on it. HHHmmmm. I decided to go natural for personal reasons but now I also committ to it for the little black girls I teach who think it's acceptable to seperate themselves into cliques based on hair length and skin color. I love my hair and for the first time in my life I feel like my hair loves me. It looks as if it breathes and does yoga on the daily, my tresses are strong-bodied, with twisty-turny paths that speak of struggle, complexity, and determination. Having natural hair has afforded me a buffet of styling options and I get something different on every trip, unless I just feel like chicken to times in a row.

Today's blog is truly inconclusive because this conversation is one that will forever be continued, we have so far to go. It is 2009, black women are still warring against their mane and citing everything from "it's unprofessional," to "I don't have time," and even foolery like "natural hair wouldn't look right on me." Thats synonymous with saying your nose doesn't look right...wait,oh....HELLO Mr. & Mrs. Plastic Surgeon. We are in a crisis. Our men see us as we see ourselves so they assist in perpetuating this idea that long, straight (cause there are sisters with LONG natural hair) hair is the standard of beauty by chasing after women who have hair hanging down to their glutes. A brother once said that he flocks to women with weave in their hair because he views them as "easier" to manipulate than those without. Consider the confusion, most women who wear weaves, also relax their hair...even relaxers are our bastard step-children now. Maybe it's Maybelline...no it's Weavelline, the Rapunzel fanatic that is solely responsible for a countryside full of butt-naked horses and I mean this literally. I'm not passing judgement, just slightly angered at the medias message to me that I'm not worthy of an approving glance unless I can make my hair slap the black off my neck when I swing it which would beneficially make me lighter in that spot too. I would suggest you get angry as well. Watch the Circus below for further details.