Let’s continue our conversation about black women and hair. It’s a hot topic these days.   

A few weeks ago, model Tyra Banks launched the fall season of her TV talk show by revealing her real hair. She admitted she had been wearing weaves, wigs and hairpieces since she was about 17 years old. She wore her real hair straightened instead of in its naturally kinky texture. First Lady Michelle Obama’s hair –she also wears straightened hair–has captured the attention of the media.  And next month, comedian Chris Rock is releasing a documentary on the $9 billion-a-year black hair industry. His exploration of the African American hair culture began after his daughter came to him crying and asked why she didn’t have good hair. 

It’s no secret that hair is a delicate issue for black women and girls: straight or nappy, braided or curled, weaves or wigs. I’ve been wearing my hair in its natural kinkiness for more than 35 years; I first sported my huge Angela Davis-style Afro after entering college in the early 1970s.  I wore long and short Afros until the 1990s, when I allowed my hair to transform into locs. 

It took my Mom, who once dreamed of  becoming a beautician, a long time to accept my natural hairstyles. Now, my daughter wears locs as do two of my sisters. The other wears a short Afro. At five years old, my daughter begged to have her hair like mine. Now 14, she won’t consider any other hairstyle. 

Since moving to North Carolina, I’ve noticed locs-wearing black women everywhere, though not as abundantly as in larger urban areas. I was pleasantly surprised to find a respectable listing of natural hair care stylists in the area. For several weeks, I’ve been searching for a stylist with the right touch. My daughter isn’t yet ready for a change. 

How do you wear your hair, and why?

Related posts:

1. Nappy and loving it
2. Straightening my mother’s hair
3. Finding a new hairdresser
4. Figuring out what it means to be in the sandwich generation
5. Black and white women talk about “The Help”