Good Hair, Bad Hair

When I think about the journey that I’ve had with my hair, honestly I don’t know where to begin. The earliest memory that I have of my hair is sitting in the salon for hours getting my Jheri curl done (yes I was a 5 year old with a Jheri curl...stay focused) by this cranky old hairstylist, lets just call her ‘Ms. Edna’.lol You would leave looking like a grandma (no offense) but she was said to have “growing hands” so my mom made me go. I remember the smell of the activator and the hours under the dryer. More than anything, I remember dreading the fact that she would inevitably make a comment about what I wasn’t doing right at home and that’s why my hair looked the way it did. This started the fundamental lie: MY HAIR IS BAD.

Growing up I would hear aunts and cousins describe people as having “good hair” or “bad hair”. “Ohhh, she got good hair,” they would say, as if the kinks in our hair meant an inferior status. Like less blackness meant better. This led to a lifetime of trying to change what was bad in me, trying to remove the stain of my black roots.

Looking back, I can’t even be mad, because they were only perpetuating what they were being taught. These comments were really a form of self-hatred. For generations this has been the narrative. Imagine what that does to a young child’s mind. The implications go far beyond our hair. It bleeds into the way we view our skin, the tone of our voice, and even our personalities.

Now that I have a daughter, I fiercely protect her view of herself. She will never hear me say “good hair” or “bad hair” about any person.

I created this blog to start to dismantle this wall in our minds brick by brick. Black woman… lets get our freedom back!!!