Transitions in Texture

“Don’t let nobody peep yo naps.”

During Black History month in the 7^th grade (late 80’s/early 90s), having written previously about Sojourner Truth and Harriet Tubman, and Dr. MLK, himself, I ventured into new territory. I constructed this great three sided poster filled with pasted on pictures, text written in bold colored marker, and, of course, artistic puff paint, exalting the first FEMALE (black or white) self-made millionaire, Madam C.J. Walker. She, being the premier entrepreneur that defined the modern day black hair care industry and standards of “straightened” beauty.

Fast forward to high school, in the 11^th grade, I wrote a 10 page paper (my high school was tough) analyzing the journey of self-worth and self-preservation as seen through the straight, bountifully thick cords of hair possessed by lead character, Janie, in Zora Neil Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God.

Then I stopped perming my hair. But this was years later. My ‘natural’ choice was not to emancipate myself from being a “slave to the lye”. But because in my adulthood I had grown tired of the perm routine and wanted to try something different. I also couldn’t use a curling iron to save my life. Many attempts at bountiful locks of curly-ness were literally burned on my forehead and leaving my hair smelling like fourth of July. Also, I must admit that, yes, I grew up in the South, and after spending time in studying at universities in the Northeast, I was duly persuaded in making the transition.

Prior to this transition, I definitely felt that straight was better. Oh, if only I could get my hands on that 3-sided poster board and 10 page paper and re-visit my thoughts at that time. But that is not to say that I discredit the accomplishments of Madam CJ Walker or ZNH. These were accomplished black women that everyone can and still learn from.

What remains unsettling for me, is the “new” notion (and by “new” I mean “old”, as it started in the ‘70s) that natural is better. How many times have you heard a sista say “Well, I am natural” with emphasis on the “I” as if in that “I” a fulfilled liberation is palpable? As if saying “I” am such, as you should be, if you had any sense left after the tingle and burn.

We can all remember Jilly from Philly saying, ‘just because you’re natural doesn’t automatically make you a positive person.’ Positive people aren’t really self righteous, right? Just because you resist the lye don’t make you special.

What if we all were kinky?

I came across an article entitled “Heady Times” that shed light on how wearing one’s hair natural can be considered one to the great rebellions of the 20^th century. It reproached the tendency of humans to categorize and create hierarchies among seemingly homogeneous groups or ideals. If we all were kinky, there would be no problem right? Mmm. . . not so much.

“We don’t like to talk about it, but all Afros were not equal. . . it was the ‘grade’ that determined whether your Fro was as tall as the White Towers or as close to your head as 99 is to a 100”

I confess that my transition was fraught with insecurities and self doubt, hiding behind of “shield” of braids for the greater part of a year to allow my roots to proudly stand high, as far away from my scalp as possible. It was cool to have a ‘fro, long as it was “cute” was my thinking and the thinking of many.

But maybe you ARE your hair. . .

Should beauty be empowering? I can understand “strength” as a form of empowerment. Not to be confused with “force”, one can have a quiet strength, a humble variety, or the more noticeable brazen, unabashed type. All in all, it is empowering because one is able to stand up for who they perceive themselves as being. Is it necessary that this “self” be wrapped up in a beautiful package? Understanding the origins of the mantra “black and beautiful” spawned from centuries of denigration of Africans; do we too often mean material beauty when this is chanted nowadays? Is Sealy okay as she is, or should we pin her down between our knees, palmade in hand, comb out those plaits, and make it into a nice neat fro? Trade the palmade for perm and is that worse?

A review of Susannah Walker’s book. Style and Status: Selling Beauty to African American Women, 1920-1975, described the cultural tendency:

“Unlike white business interests, black manufacturers tended to cast the pursuit of beauty as the handmaiden of racial uplift. Not only was an attractive appearance attainable, they argued, but it was also a valuable asset, allowing black women the power to claim respectability in a world loath to concede it.”

Is there any truth to this? Is the argument now over the standard of beauty that we, as African Americans, should aspire towards? Will there always be a tug of war, straight versus kinky?

What do you think? Say it loud. . .