African American Hair Care History and Cultural Evolution

Introduction

African American hair care and culture has evolved over the past century in spectacular ways, particularly thanks to an infusion of pop stylings from the arts and entertainment world, where hair care and culture have created new looks meant to express individuality and creative energy. However, looking back through history, one can see that African American hair care and culture was both similar to and different from what it is today. White and White showed that in the 1830s, in the Negro quarter of a plantation in the South, men could be found shaving and the women "arranging their frizzy hair, in which they take no little pride, or investigating the condition of their children's heads" (45). In other words, the fundamentals were the same then as now with respect to hair care and culture — the only things that have changed are the styles. This paper discusses the history of African American hair care and culture and shows how it has evolved over the years to become what it is today.

The Benefits of Black Hair

One of the best natural qualities of African American hair during the era of slavery was that its "frizzy, kinky" texture served as a natural insulator, protecting the head from the sun's rays and heat (Byrd, Tharps 1). In Africa, hair styles had long been used to convey status, social standing, age, religion, and other cultural dimensions. In the New World, however, the elaborate hair styles of Africa were not maintained; the culture of White Anglo-Saxon Protestants (WASPs) was primarily imposed upon enslaved people, and that included dictates about how hair was to be worn.

Hair care in the South before and after Emancipation in the nineteenth century differed significantly from African traditions. Enslaved African Americans did not have access to the kinds of combs and herbal treatments available in Africa, so they made do with bacon grease, kerosene, or butter as conditioner or cleanser. They did not have regular access to salons as white people did (Candelario). Yet their natural hair protected their heads, making hair care — rather than hair removal — a top priority.

Following Emancipation, free Black Americans began looking for ways to emulate the higher social classes as a means of fitting into broader society. Changing the texture of "frizzy, kinky" hair to more closely resemble the straightness of white hair became a new priority. To address this desire, Thompson notes that "in the early 1900s, Madam C.J. Walker received a patent for developing the 'hot comb,' also known as a 'pressing comb.' This device was the first of its kind to be marketed by a Black woman to other Black women, and it completely changed the hair game" (1). African American men and women could now display straightened hair that they hoped made them more acceptable in white culture. Yet the natural qualities of the hair meant that any contact with moisture would cause it to return to its natural state, allowing African Americans to retain a sense of uniqueness and authenticity — qualities that served them especially well in the early twentieth century as their musical talents began to attract attention and the first African American leaders in blues and swing made their mark. As Patton points out, thanks to these natural qualities, African Americans "have challenged White definitions of beauty" (24), and hair has been a central part of that challenge.

By the 1960s, the chemical straightener — also known as a "relaxer" — had been developed and introduced to the market, and African American women adopted it in large numbers (Thompson 2). Many not only chemically straightened their hair but also grew it out to resemble the longer hair of white women in the 1970s and 1980s (Tate). Feeling "less Black" in order to fit into white culture was important for many Black women throughout much of the twentieth century, largely because of the intense racial tensions generated by Jim Crow laws in the United States. As Rooks recollected of her own personal experience:

"When I went South for the summer, my grandmother could not get me to Miss Ruby's beauty parlor and a straightening comb fast enough. She reasoned that because no one was ever going to mistake me for having anything other than African ancestry due to the dark color of my skin … straightening my hair would give me an advantage in the world. It was one less battle that would have to be fought." (3)

It was only following the Civil Rights Movement and the counter-culture revolution of the 1960s and 1970s that African Americans began to demonstrate a desire to stand apart and separate themselves from white cultural norms — and hair style was one powerful way of doing so.

Getting Back to the Roots

As musical influences began reaching back to earlier origins — Reggae drawing on Caribbean traditions and further to African sources for style and rhythm — African Americans began reshaping their appearance to reflect this renewed cultural focus. This was especially true in the latter half of the twentieth century. As American culture shifted, so too did the orientation of Black Americans regarding the pressure to "blend in."

The Rastafarian hair style is one example of how some African Americans began to embrace their individuality and unique ethnic heritage. Introduced in the latter half of the twentieth century, it was "originally intended to reproduce the 'ethnic' look of some East African tribes" (Hebdige 1264). Hebdige described this as "style as homology" — the act of creating a "symbolic fit between the values and lifestyles of a group, its subjective experience and the musical forms it uses to express or reinforce its focal concerns" (1264). The Rastafarian hair style was popular among followers of Bob Marley, who grew his hair into dreadlocks as a symbol of authenticity. Various aspects of musical culture were intertwined with this style as well, including a philosophy of nonviolent protest — particularly relevant during the Vietnam era when peaceful demonstration was a meaningful political act.

As Rooks notes, hair was deeply politicized among African Americans, particularly in the 1970s when social and political revolution was happening across the globe. Many African Americans were tired of feeling compelled to conform to the white cultural norms that had oppressed them for generations. However, not all African Americans embraced cultural expressions like those associated with Bob Marley and Rastafarianism. Some still sought to maintain a respectable appearance acceptable in white culture, aiming not to stand out but to fit in (Rooks). Thus, even in the era of the Black Panthers and the Afro — when many African Americans let their natural "frizzy, kinky" hair grow freely — others retained more conventional short-cropped cuts for men and chemically straightened styles for women.

Some women turned to dreadlocks not out of cultural affinity but because they had no other choice: years of chemical straightening had destroyed their hair (Thompson). Many had also worn weaves and tight braids that had caused further damage, leaving their hair beyond repair and making dreadlocks the only viable option. This had nothing to do with an affinity for Reggae or Rastafarianism, but everything to do with years of attempting to conform. Patton captured this reality well through the voice of one African American woman and her experience:

"How is it possible that millions of Black women do not know how to care for their hair? And, why do so many feel they have to hide their natural hair? As a professional who sees the end result of years of hair alteration, Ruth believes that women in large part see no option but to alter their hair because of the images we are inundated with of women whose hair is very long, silky, flowing and mostly blonde. In the media, many of the Black women who are glorified for their beauty tend to be women who also have long, wavy hair." (39)

African Americans had long felt pressure to wear their hair straight and long to mirror European ideals, but gradually a realization emerged that natural hair was not only acceptable but worth celebrating. That shift helped create new trends in hair style and hair care within the African American community. Today, for instance, one of the most visible African American public figures is Colin Kaepernick, whose recent Nike advertising campaign features him with a prominent Afro — his hair frizzy and kinky, spreading naturally with an unmistakable nod to the political protest culture of the 1970s. This is fitting, given that Kaepernick became widely known for kneeling during the national anthem at NFL games, sparking a protest movement among professional athletes about the treatment of Black Americans. For many African Americans, hair and politics remain intertwined even today.

Conclusion

Unfortunately, today many African American women still view their hair in negative terms. However, there is still a great deal of positive imagery to be found as more people turn to social media for advice on caring for their hair and allowing its true natural beauty to shine through. African American hair care and culture has evolved considerably since the early days of slavery, yet in some respects the underlying tensions remain. Some African Americans continue to alter their hair in ways that cause damage in an effort to conform or follow trends. Others choose to let their natural beauty emerge. The history of Black hair in America reflects a broader and ongoing negotiation between assimilation and authenticity — a negotiation that shows no signs of ending.

Works Cited

Byrd, Ayana, and Lori Tharps. Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America. Macmillan, 2014.

Candelario, Ginetta. "Hair Race-ing: Dominican Beauty Culture and Identity Production." Meridians 1.1 (2000): 128–156.

Hebdige, Dick. Subculture: The Meaning of Style. Routledge, 2012.

Patton, Tracey Owens. "Hey Girl, Am I More Than My Hair?: African American Women and Their Struggles with Beauty, Body Image, and Hair." NWSA Journal (2006): 24–51.

Rooks, N. Hair Raising: Beauty, Culture, and African American Women. Rutgers University Press, 1996.

Tate, S. "Black Beauty: Shade, Hair and Antiracist Aesthetics." Ethnic and Racial Studies 30.2 (2007): 300–319.

Thompson, Cheryl. "Black Women and Identity: What's Hair Got to Do with It." Michigan Feminist Studies 22.1 (2008).

White, Shane, and Graham White. "Slave Hair and African American Culture in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries." The Journal of Southern History 61.1 (1995): 45–76.