Comments and conversations made me realize that I failed to really make my point (if I truly have one) in my last post “Denying My Roots By Relaxing Them?”. As usual, my post was littered with tangential stories and anecdotes. But what it seemed to lack was a point. Why do I even concern myself with my hair and other’s perceptions of it?
I want to look good and feel good about the way I look. It’s just that simple. My aversion to going natural is largely vanity. Because I have no idea what my natural hair looks like anymore, I wouldn’t know what to expect until it was too late. I don’t think I’ll look good with an afro. And what if I don’t? My hair grows soooo slowly that not liking it is really not an option. It could easily take 10 years for my hair to get back to the short bob I have right now. I feel my reasoning must be equivalent to those people who refuse to go back to their natural hair color from blond (or whatever color). We all know it’s not real but they just KNOW they look better that way.
A reason to go natural, on the other hand, is financial. Properly maintaining relaxed hair can be expensive. Every 8 weeks, I pay someone $70 to straighten my roots and trim the ends. That’s $420 every year. This doesn’t include highlighting, deep conditioners and the random “it’s not time for a relaxer but I have to look good tonight” appointments. Those would probably push it up to around $600 a year. Now, I’m not exactly sure how expensive maintaining natural hair would be but I have to guess that it’s cheaper than that. Just trimming and conditioning, no chemical processes required.
So why not just cut it off and perm it again if I don’t like it? I don’t really have a good answer to that. I’m not a huge fan of ultra-short hair on myself. If my hair is going to be permed, it might as well be as long as it is now.
“But don’t you feel you’re denying the real you by chemically altering your hair?” Sure, I can see the logic in that question but I just ask that people see the logic in my response. I have no desire to deny myself. I’m just doing what I prefer. I don’t see perming my hair and being any different from putting on make-up, getting lasik or shaving my legs. Sure, bare skin, bad eye-sight and hairy legs are all natural but no one seems to question my desire to change those things. So why question my hair choices? You don’t have to like it and I welcome any discussion about my choices. But if your only point is that I’m wrong, do us both a favor, save your breath and just think it very hard.
Running her fingers through her short but straightened hair,
I wish there was a video for this version but alas, just the song.
India.Arie “I Am Not My Hair” featuring P!nk (Please note they both punctuation in their names. Haha)
I recently had the pleasure of having dinner and with two British gentlemen during a conference. While the conversation covered a number of topics, we spent quite a bit of time on race relations and related issues. I foresee any number of future posts inspired by this conversation. One comment in particular made me think about my overall experience with my hair.
One of the guys (of Asian descent, while that distinction is not necessary, I believe it helps add a little color to the story, no pun intended) asked me innocently but pointedly if my hair looks like that in the morning. At first, it took me a moment to grasp his meaning. Of course, I’ll need to comb it but for the most part, unless sweat or water are a factor, I don’t have to do all that much to my hair. Only having to wash it once a week, I generally just get up and go.
Of course, he didn’t necessarily mean the “morning” so much as was my hair naturally straight. completely unashamed, I shook my head no and explained that it was chemically straightened and that my roots have to be processed every 2 months. When asked why I did this to myself, I explained that it’s been this way since age 12 and that “going natural” would require cutting it all off. I’m not entirely confident I could pull off the little boy look. The other gentleman spoke of a woman he’d dated from the West Indies (I believe) who’d decided to “go natural” and how he’d quite liked it. This comment is also important but I’ll get into that later. The most important thing to take from their comments was that while they accepted it, neither understood the need/desire to permanently breakdown the chemical bonds of my hair.
So why do I relax my hair? (You’ll commonly hear black women refer to perming their hair. Our perms are actually relaxers. They straighten, not curl. The processes do different things. A perm creates temporary bonds. That’s why the loosen up over time. A relaxer on the other hand breaks down bonds. There’s no coming back from that. It’s permanent until you cut the treated hair off.) There’s no need to really dig into the history. In the early 1900s, both commercial relaxers and hot combs (the precursor to the Chi) were unleashed upon the general public. Needless to say, black women around the world have been straightening their hair for 100 years. Walk through any African-American self-help section in a bookstore and you’ll no doubt find some book about the black woman ideal and our struggles with our hair. History and magazines tell us we straighten our hair to emulate the Caucasian ideal. But I’m not also bleaching my skin, my hair will never make it past my shoulders, and I’m obviously not going to be able to pass for white, so why do I relax my hair?
There’s no simple answer to that question. The closest I can get is fear. I’ve never known my hair to be any other way. Sure, throughout my childhood, my hair was “natural” but it was still straightened. The hot comb usually came out on Saturday so you’re hair would still be presentable on Sunday for church. I’ve always strived for long, straight, full, beautiful hair. As I came to accept my hair would never look like Tatiyana Ali (Fresh Prince reference for you) or Naomi Campbell’s, I decided to do the best I could with what I had. For 13 years, as funds and availability allowed, I’ve paid someone to burn the hell out of my scalp to straighten the “new growth” aka my roots.
In college, I remember getting into a debate with an African-American male administrator at a conference funny enough about race and ethnicity. While in a group circle to discuss the sessions of the day, he launched into a tirade about black women relaxing their hair. With his age (50s-ish) and “participation” in the Civil Rights Movement, he felt completely justified in lecturing us. (I’ll have to say that I believe he just saw a collection of early 20s black women as easy targets to vent. His wife had bone-straight, chemically-altered hair.) Although a few of the women in the room had natural hair, the general consensus among us all was that to relax or not to relax was a personal choice, usually driven by taste and convenience. The same reasons I could use to explainrelaxing my hair, another women could use to justify going natural. And you know what? More power to us both.
The struggles I remember with my hair during childhood are not necessarily what I’d endure now. For the most part, the issues arose because someone was trying to keep my hair straight and “manageable.” Rain, sweat, swimming, basically anything involving moisture turned 30 minutes worth of straightening into a dual-textured, frizzy mess. I’m not sure I’d experience the same battles now. If I were go natural, my hair (texture-willing) would be worn in such a way that water would not by my enemy. What a novel concept! (Washing my hair once a week really limits my water-based activities. Sure, I could wash it more often but I’m not really willing to go through the 1 1/2 hr washing-drying-straightening-curling process more often. Some people find the once-a-week thing gross. Please understand that my hair does not get oily or greasy. I actually have to put the moisture into my hair. Washing it everyday would require buckets of leave in conditioner or cause it to get brittle and break off. Trust me. Once a week is the way to go for me.)
I’ve recently begun to contemplate just being bold and cutting it all off, starting over. Aside from the initial shock, I’m trying to imagine how bad it could be. Aside from the extreme possibility of resembling a little boy for several years, I’m at a loss for “good reasons” not to do it. Well, of course there’s always the possibility that I’ll absolutely hate it. Slow hair growth makes this decision especially difficult.
If I ever choose to take the plunge and rediscover my hair unaltered, it will be for no reasons other than vanity and ease. I would love to not hide from the rain, go swimming at will and not have to burn my ears accidentally or scalp intentionally every 8 weeks. But I also like running my fingers through my straight, although short, hair and blending in. Natural hair seems to make a personal and/or political statement I don’t really care to make. Me going natural would not necessarily mean I’m trying ot be “more black” or embracing my cultural roots by growing out my physical ones. For good or bad, my roots are just a part of me that showcases my melting pot heritage. Relaxers or afros, they all seem to define or explain everything and nothing about me.
Wishing my hair would grow faster so this decision wouldn’t seem so monumental,
The Truth: According to Jo'van 