A few months ago my girlfriend of Ugandan heritage, decided to cut off her tailbone length locks; a style she had rocked with perfection for ten years. The mere thought of starting over was scary and exhilarating for her all at once. She wanted something new; free flowing hair that would enable her to rock the twist outs, wash n’ gos and all the fabulous styles that can only be achieved on non-locked hair.
Shortly after her decision, she was disappointed to learn that she had not only cut off her locks, but something else just as tangible was also cut. That something was the continuous admiration of men and women concerning the beauty of her long, luscious, locks.
She shared how she’d often be called a queen by mere strangers and experienced the “privilege” of receiving special extras and kind gestures from people of all ages as a direct response to her beautiful long hair. She recalls, she didn’t have to “work” to be seen or admired. Being that she is naturally an effervescent person, I don’t doubt that people were also hooked and became instantly enamored by her once she opened her mouth.
Having instantly gone from long hair to virtually no hair in a matter of a few minutes, the difference in the treatment was stark and very much noticeable to her versus the gradual change from shorter to longer hair. I found myself agreeing with some of her observations of proffered a special treatment when my hair looks long (I.e. as in when it’s blown out, flat ironed, etc). Our conversation got me thinking; is long hair privilege really a thing and if it is, how does it effect our appreciation for our hair while in shorter lengths?
The long, thick hair esthetic is not unique to our Euro-centric culture. Long before black people were hauled into America as slave laborers, succumbed to the societal preferences of the day, Africans had their own love for the healthy and rich look of stylized, thick, long tresses (Byrd 4).
The journey to America and inhumane conditions suffered gave way to numerous scalp issues, loss of traditional hair care methods and no time to care for Afro-textured hair (Byrd 13). This of course led to little to no hair on many heads despite any of the slaves culture specific history surrounding hair and hair care.
Flash forward years later when various hair tools and hair products marketed to black hair become the indulgence of African American men and women everywhere. Despite this new opportunity of tailored hair care, details of the tools, the ingredients and the hair care practices used, coupled with numerous other outside factors, would lead a modern, educated natural to understand why most black hair did not thrive or reach the longer lengths that they were capable of, as exhibited by our ancestors.
In recent years an upsurge in the pursuit and increase of knowledge of Afro-textured hair, and a use of natural butters and oils (as used by our ancestors) has spawned a new era of black hair where many black women can and have achieved long lengths irregardless of their background.
Though long, afro-textured hair is now more common in the US than any other time, one might suggest that it’s wearers no longer carry any ‘privilege’ and is no longer a pinnacle of black beauty. While I’d like to believe this, I fear our ingrained beliefs about our hair, especially around long hair undermines our love for our hair at any length.
When we shy away from doing a big chop, but wait till our hair is long enough to wear out, could we be saying that our short hair is not as good as our long hair?
What are your thoughts?
Bryd, Ayana, and Lori L. Tharps; Hair Story; Untangling The Roots of Black Hair In America. New York: Griffin’s Press, 2001. Print.
