Hair.
We hear stories about the controversy that our hair causes.
Including one appalling story about a young black man name
d Andrew Johnson. In 2019, the 16 year old wrestler’s locs were cut as an ultimatum by a white referee before a match: “Your hair covering doesn’t conf
orm to the rule book, so cut your dreadlocks or forfeit".
The young man stood there as his locs were cut in the most demeaning way possible.
Let’s even take it back to the 1700’s.
History always seems to have an interesting way of repeating itself.
In 1786, The Tignon Laws were passed by Governor Esteban Rodriguez Miró to prohibit ‘creole women of color from displaying additional attention to dress in New Orleans. The law stipulated that they must wear a tignon (a type of head covering) to hide their hair. However, the intention that Governor Miro placed was soon overturned by the redirection of the message from the women who now wore them.
The Tignon Law was a tactic used to combat the men pursuing and engaging in affairs with Creole women.
The regulation was meant as a means to regulate the style of dress and appearance for people of color.
The initial intent was to make free Louisiana women of color look less appealing. It was meant to degrade and humble them in a way, yet the women turned tignons into statement pieces and jeweled head wraps by styling them in a way that were expressive and fabulous. They took back their power by resisting and reclaiming the rights to their own hair.
The United States took control of Louisiana, and the Tignon Laws were abandoned. However, both enslaved, and free black women continued to wear them as a sign of resistance.
Once again, turning our pain into power.
Advocating for the CROWN Act is one way that we, too, can make our modern-day stories of hair policing a story of resilience.
The CROWN Act, is a law that prohibits race-based hair discrimination. It stands for “Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair” and it was created by the CROWN Coalition and Dove in 2019.
This Act would prevent the denial of employment and educational opportunities due to hairstyles and texture.
The CROWN Act is for the black women in spaces that constantly tell them to change their hair. That our curls are too curly. Or our coils are too kinky. The ones with locs, braids and fros, who are often told to get it straightened in the name of professionalism and conformity to European or acceptable standards.
During my personal hair journey a few years ago, I started to embrace my natural hair + African hairstyles in my quest to return to my ancestral roots.
I’ve experienced the stares, the judgment and the ignorance. I’ve been told that my hair was too urban, “ghetto” and ultimately, too black.
So what does this say about me?
A better question is what does this reveal about the people that make these sorts of judgments?
Hair injustice is a leaf on the broad tree of all things injustice. We can not do the work of anti-racism while discriminating against black hair. The two are intersectional. Why? The answer is simple. My hair is apart of my blackness and ultimately, my being.
So, to police black hair is to police black existence.
Why should we have to alter something that grows from our scalp as if we have a choice or an option to change it?
From social media, to our employers to our disconnected and misinformed colleagues… Everyone tells us that we should alter our natural selves while conforming to their standards of being. They say we should adapt.
We say no more.
Join us for IGNITE the Capitol on 2/2, a day of virtual training and digital advocacy to champion the passage of The CROWN Act.
Take Action
We need your help in demanding the U.S. Senate hears and passes the bill.
ONE:
Join us for IGNITE the Capitol on 2/2, a day of virtual training and digital advocacy to champion the passage of The CROWN Act.
TWO:
Sign the petition from the CROWN Collective to as lawmakers across the country to end hair discrimination in schools and the workplace.
THREE:
Visit our 2021 legislative agenda to take action now