Ashley Short and Jon Cope; Short's hair is self-styled, and she also served as makeup artist; Cope’s hair is styled by Dajour Artis. (Photo by Lechele Jackson)
There is nothing wrong with being. There is nothing wrong with being. There is nothing wrong with being.
This is a mantra for my brothas and sistas and POCs who need to hear this message, because I feel in this moment of time, a lot of us are doing a lot of healing and undoing of karmic cycles of self-underappreciation in this post-George Floyd world, especially when it comes to our hair.
We as a people have been conditioned to believe that the authentic way that hair grows from our head is wrong. That trauma runs deep, and its unraveling takes effort.
Just the other night, I spoke with one of my friends who told me he felt uncomfortable wearing his hair any other way than a fade until he saw the film “Black Panther” — when he was 30! In that same conversation, another friend said that she was “comfortable wearing my natural hair, but still feel insecure around the styling of it.”
She then described a moment that all of us Afro-wearers and curlistas know too well: It’s when you sit in a chair and relax, but only from the neck down. That’s because if the back of the head touches the chair, in the words of said friend, “One has to unsquish it!”
Such insecure thoughts plague our minds all day as we hold our heads in uncomfortable positions or make like ninjas, dodging obstructions that threaten to distort our hair’s appearance, especially when it comes to others reaching out to touch it.
I had an “I can do whatever I want with my hair” epiphany many years ago, but I find that this feeling is an ever-evolving moment for all Black people. These past few years, I realized I have the autonomy to expand into territory I never saw myself going into: Sew-in braids and weaves.
As you can see in the accompanying photos, I am wearing a sew-in, thanks to Christina Jenkins, a Black woman who invented the process, patented in 1952. It’s not just for Black people, but anyone who wants a weave (or the more popular term used in the Caucasian diaspora, extensions).
In their book “Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America,” Ayana Byrd and Lori Tharps detail how hair “has never been a purely cosmetic attribute. … Its social, aesthetic, and spiritual significance has been intrinsic to [our] sense of self for thousands of years.”
Maasai men of Kenya and Tanzania spend years tending to their intricately styled braids (Photo via Flickr)
On YouTube, HomeTeam History, a handle that dives deep into African history, states that “braids seem to be a universal, foundational, African trait, and protective styling techniques … were a very common theme.”
The word that sticks out to me in the latter statement is “protective.” People may think I want to have a cute hairstyle, and I do, but a huge reason we as Black people wear our hair in the intricate ways we do is to keep it protected and promote hair health and growth. Our hair type is coily and fragile, so protective styles help limit breakage from weather and constant manipulation.
Jon Cope at a recent RVA Fashion Week event (Photo by Mx.Bex)
I hope that I can speak for most POCs when I say we have a dream: A dream that our Black and brown children will not have to live with the burden of impression management and feeling as though they have to make excuses for their natural state of being and the unique ways we take care of ourselves. I just think about students such as Andrew Johnson and Nicole Pyles, a few of the many student athletes who, during 2019, dealt with sports officials giving them ultimatums to cut or manipulate their hair in order to compete. No matter how much healing they go through after these moments of degradation, this trauma will no doubt haunt them for the rest of their lives.
Legislation such as The Crown Act, enacted in 2019 by the state of California, which explicitly protects against discrimination based on hair texture and protective styling, are positive steps toward the fruition of this dream, and encouraging acknowledgement of our country’s history of ignoring this issue.
As I have conversations with white allies, I feel comfortable explaining my Black hair. It sets the foundation for living together authentically and harmoniously.
Reading “Hair Story” or visiting African history YouTube channels are great ways to spark conversation in an “I did my homework” type of way, but as I speak with my Black brothers and sisters, a random, simple statement like “There is nothing wrong with being” might be even more appreciated on our collective healing journey.
Jon Cope (imfstyling.com) supports Richmond’s fashion and nonprofit community as a stylist, journalist, educator and interior designer.
