Squaredpixels via Getty Images
Courtesy of NappQueen
So. Much. Beautiful. Hair.
Bennett Raglin via Getty Images
Embrace those kinks, ladies!
Photograph by Justin Bonaparte via Getty Images
"We weren't anybody's standard of beauty."
When it comes to black people, our hair, just like our skin tones, aren't a one type fits all kind of deal. And for far too long, in both our homes and in our communities, we've allowed hair discrimination to affect ourselves, and our future generations in more harmful ways than we think.
AAGAMIA via Getty Images
For the six months that I wore my hair curly, I felt confident. I felt like I had been a one-girl revolution who walked with purpose, making a statement with every step. But when I wore my hair straight, I felt safe. What's the difference?
I was only 9 years old when I came face to face with a 'racist'. The sad thing about this encounter was not only what was happening to me, but the other person, who had no idea that they were actually inciting racial hatred. That person was another 9 year old girl.
On Father's Day, I posted a picture on my Facebook profile of my daughter and myself. Well this led to my Facebook inbox blowing up. Not only due to the fact that my daughter is beautiful (yes, I am very biased) but due to the fact that I removed my locs.
A white baby boomer walks into her office wearing cornrows - sounds like a practical joke, right? Not for photographer Endia Beal, who gave a few middle-aged white women a free haircut and photographe...
The phenomenon of black women dismissing their own natural hair didn't happen overnight: the social control and economic exploitation of an entire race could not be ensured only through physical violence (whipping, branding, torture, rape etc.), but necessitated psychological and psychic violence to "convince" Africans that they needed to be "civilized" into the cultural, moral, social and yes, corporeal ways of the European.