About two years ago, I decided to go natural. For those not
in the know (people who live under a rock at this point) “going natural”
usually refers to someone wearing their hair in its naturally curly and/or
kinky state without chemicals changing the texture. Mind you this was
after the first wave of people did their post-Good Hair haircuts,
so instead of floundering around I had the internet to help me. My initial
Google searches immediately flooded me with blog after blog of advice. I was
immediately obsessed and envious of all the luscious fros across my computer
screen. I would just imagine walking around with a fabulous Angela Davis afro
and eagerly anticipated the day I would become a part of that world.
Within a few months of chopping off all my relaxed hair, I
had come to two conclusions. One, some of these people spend WAAAAAAY to much
time and money on their hair. If you find yourself spending hours babying your
hair, you need to get your life. Two, that apparently (according to some
blogs, but not all) making the decision to let go of the creamy crack was going
to be a journey faced with hardship and discrimination. I was going to struggle
with my new texture, lose the favor of men because of my unconventional looks
and be deemed unprofessional. I, of course, ate up every horror story and
diligently mentally prepared myself for the societal rejection. I felt my
social justice background had properly prepared me for this very moment and I
was ready to fight with everything I had. But something odd happened the first
day I wore my hair out after months of transitioning. Besides my thick, kinky
hair being easier to deal with than I was expecting,the world did not
converge to attack me and I was a little disappointed. From my experience,
in a world dominated by White people mind you, I must say that reception of my
hair has been positive, in fact maybe a little overwhelmingly so. This brings
me to the one thing that the internet natural hair community did not give me a
heads up for, exotification.
I will admit that there is the odd, conservative White dude
who may make a comment about my hair but for the most part, I feel like my hair
has become a beacon. I work at a predominantly White nonprofit and I have
not heard any comments about my hair being unprofessional but they will talk
about it all day. Any change in my hair, down to changing the side of me part,
will cause office uproar for at least an hour. And don’t get me started on when
I got box braids. It was brutal. It is for that reason I only wear my hair in
updos at work. The most embarrassing hair related work moment was sitting down
with someone who told my hair was “sensual and wild” before going on about
policy changes. Sadly, as one of the younger people in my field, somehow
becoming "sexier" overnight was definitely not a value add. In terms
of men, I can say that I have not seen any difference in how many Black men I
attract (perhaps I can try to get a study done out of Northwestern to really
nail this down) but I can say that it makes all the little White and Asian
hipster boys hearts go pitter patter. It gets old when every time you are
chatted up at the bar the conversation immediately goes to your hair and how
fun/strong/sexy/bohemian/socially conscious it makes me look. Please remove your
dick from my hair, it was fine without it. And I have always been a lady killer
so, no change on that front either.
I know it sound ridiculous and whinny to complain about
something like this, but I feel like being sexualized and exotified can be just
as damning as the opposite reaction. Historically, Black women have been
excluded from Western ideals of 'beauty" and for some this new trend is a
welcomed change. Sadly, I think this a more nuanced problem of women of color
being seen as objects instead of people, a sum total of features that make us
“different” instead of being individuals. Just because you are stroking my hair
while giving me what you think is a compliment does not mean you are not
petting me like a sheep. I am beautiful in spite of societal validation or
visibility. At the end of the day, I am not my hair and I hope that everybody
else is not, too. So, am I the only? Have you been made uncomfortable by
“positive” attention?
XOXO Lady Justice
