Perms Versus Naturals: The Black Hair Battle
When a girl turns 12 or 13, some families throw homegrown parties or big, elaborate, Super Sweet Sixteen-esque shindigs. In the Harris clan, the rites of passage for budding young women is permission to walk to the corner store with your girlfriends, carrying a pocketbook to church— and going to the salon to get your first perm.
It wasn’t just about getting your hair straightened, though. As far back as I could remember, some senior female relative had me and my cousins lined up in those hard-backed kitchen chairs, with a jar of Blue Magic on standby, for a one-on-one showdown with the hot comb in order to get spit-shined and spiffy for [insert name of holiday or special occasion]. We all came out with basically the same hairdo: half up in a ponytail, half down in the back with a big ol’ tight funnel of a bang smack dab in the middle of our foreheads. You knew a Harris girl a half a block away just from that super stiff church bang all balled up in the center of her dome like a brown Fruit Roll-up. We could hopscotch, double dutch, hide ‘n’ seek—that sturdy bang never once moved, dropped or shifted in the wind. Straight hair was nothing new. So getting a perm, to us anyway, wasn’t about achieving the illustrious look of white girl hair. It was about being almost grown enough to sit up in that hairdresser’s chair, shed those plaits and maze of barrettes, and rock an actual, honest-to-goodness hairstyle.
To me, hot combs and relaxers are part of Black culture. Like chitlins and hog maws and other residuals of our disenfranchisement, they can be looked down on as leftovers from years of oppression and marginalization. I get that.
Maybe it’s those kinds of fond memories that keep me from being completely repulsed by the idea of (and process for) having straightened hair. To me, hot combs and relaxers are part of Black culture. Like chitlins and hog maws and other residuals of our disenfranchisement, they can be looked down on as leftovers from years of oppression and marginalization. I get that. I get that our people were drilled with the deprecating idea that our hair isn’t beautiful, that “nappy” and “kinky” and “coarse” were all derogatory words thrown at our heads to drive home the ugliness we were supposed to feel, that in order for our locks to be considered “good” they had to lay flat and slick and smooth and tame (which, by the way, my hair was not and has never been, with or without a doggone perm). And I know some people unfortunately still feel like that. I could scream every time I hear someone—in 2009, now—imply that “pretty hair” is only the kind that moves fluidly when you shake your head around.
I’m so excited to see so many sisters shed their same ol’, same ol’ wraps and rollers sets and get creative with the crown of gorgeous hair that they were born with.
So I’m so excited to see so many sisters shed their same ol’, same ol’ wraps and rollers sets and get creative with the crown of gorgeous hair that they were born with. In fact, within the last five or so years, most of the ladies around me, from my mom to my sister to three of my best friends, have all gone natural, back to the way their hair was before six-to-eight-week touch-ups and purposely not scratching in fear of the sizzling burn that happens when chemicals seep into those itched spots. (Child, I’m cringing just at the thought of it.)
I don’t feel compelled to cut out my perm in order to prove my authenticity to or dedication for my Blackness.
At the same time, I don’t feel compelled to cut out my perm in order to prove my authenticity to or dedication for my Blackness. If I do grow it out—and I suspect I probably will, at some point—it won’t be for that reason because it’s about what’s in my head, not on it, that makes me a conscious sister. Once upon a time, I was in a graduate program in one of the most respected African American Studies departments in the country. Needless to say, all of the students were, on the outside anyway, super militant, all dishekis and “brother this” and “sista that”—and of course, capped off with all kinds of beautiful locs, afros and twists. I was the only person in the department with chemically processed hair (save the secretary, who made it quite clear that she was there to work, not start a revolution). I became an outcast of sorts because I was—at least in their minds—playing into the mental conditioning they were supposedly fighting so hard to reverse. We won’t talk about how Baby Afrika Bambaatta turned out to be shacking up with a white girl named Amy or how the power-to-the-people soul sistas talked about me, a fellow Black queen, every time I breathed oxygen. That was irrelevant. With my hair permed, I couldn’t really be down for the cause and to them, that made me a sellout.
After that experience, I became even more determined to be unapologetic for perming my tresses. I, like my hair, relaxed. Years later, I’m still perming, still trying to get past that mid-shoulder length, still going to the Dominican shop every other Saturday for a fresh wash and set and a deep condition. I am admittedly ready for a change, but it’s not because I’ve had some sudden revelation like relaxer, bad; natural hair, better. Sistas have made an art of changing their look—between weaves, twists, locs, braids, colors, texturizers, perms, cuts and design, we really should have an ongoing exhibit up in somebody’s museum. As a creative person, I think I’m running out of things to do with my hair the way it is now. But if and when I do decide to go natural, I will never assume that my decision has given me one up on the Black hand side.
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You can’t tell if it’s natural by looking. I’m amused by your past classmates’ attitudes. With Oprah’s recent revelation that she straightens her natural hair without the aid of acids (that’s what I call relaxers), people are beginning to learn a little more about being natural-haired.
Straight isn’t natural you say? Unless you (black women) wear free-form locks or wash n’ goes everyday, the appearance of your natural texture is altered in some way. Even that nice twist-out hairstyle isn’t exactly what you see when your hair is unaltered, is it?
I think that unless you are hurting yourself (I consider using acid to relax hair pretty risky), you’re free to do what you choose. Of course, I don’t have to like it but I pick my battles when I choose an outfit or hairstyle everyday. I assume you can pick your own battles based on how you present yourself too.
Such a waste fo time continuing this stupid hair battle.
Such a great article! I feel the exact same way. I didn’t get a relaxer till I was 17..I know unheard of..LOL. I’m now going on the natural journey not because I hate the relaxer devil but because I think I can do more with my hair…plus I’m bored. Thanks for this great article from the otherside of the “lye” line
I completely agree. I’ve been natural for going on 4 years, and it’s not some political decision. I did it initially to try something new. Now I’ve just learned to like it natural as much, if not more than I liked it when it was permed. Drives me crazy when natural women look down on, or think they are better than those with perms, and vice versa.
What lies beneath, seems to be the only part that no one gets about going natural or keeping your hair permed. My sister is completely natural and I am all for perms but we do it based on how we feel about our style. I understand the detriment society has put on us but I agree that it is more than just chemically processed hair, it’s my compliment to an outfit, what I want to use to attract people to my face, or even away from my face. People of our nationality shouldn’t be judged, if anything we should be embraced because of our versatility.
YES!!!!! This article is the Bomb!!! I totally understand and share the same sentiments!!! Thank you for being bold, keeping it real and calling out the hypocrites within our own culture who judge based on very exclusive ideals!!!
I’ve had everything from a TWA,(teeny weeny Afro) to locks. I’ve had tracks sewn into my hair, (even without a perm). I’ve worn my permed hair curly. And my natural hair straight.
I cut my locks after five years primarily because it was becoming more than just a hairstyle. It was a symbol and a way of life. And honestly? It just didn’t fit me anymore. And I felt like, so this is it? These ropes of hair just eventually hit the floor and I keep trying to find more and more ways to tie it up and out of my face and off my back? No thanks. I’m done.
my two cents: I think every woman should rock their hair the way it naturally grows out of their heads for at least some point in her adult life. When I was eighteen and began the process, I could not keep my hands out of my hair. I was amazed at the corkscrews that were developing underneath. It had been twelve years since I’d felt my own unprocessed hair.
There is something to be said for digging those hands up there and feeling the real you.
I think the real issue here is our aversion to SHORT hair. Not natural hair. Most women with perms would totally go natural if they could wake up with a full head of natural hair.
It’s the transition that scares folks. The first few months of the in-between styles and of course, the eventual hair cut that has to take place.
I hope you do make the decision to go natural. And after that, I know a great place where you can get tracks added to your blown-out kinky hair for fun…
Thank you so much for this article! I live in the south so I am definitley in the minority & these elitist like to sit on their high horse, judge & critic their peers for the most minute reason such as how I choose to wear my hair. I will eventually grow it out to its natural state but im not there yet. Im very secure in myself & I feel like as long as I confident & comfortable then it shouldn’t make or break anyone else.
Thank you! It’s about time somebody stood up for the sisters who relax their hair. I get perms because I like being able to unwrap my hair and go instead of fighting to tame it as my hair eats the comb, lol
Great article – it brought back memories of sitting in my grandmother’s kitchen getting my hair hot combed :o) What happened to those days when people waited for their girls to turn a certain age to perm their hair or at least give them an option on the matter, (I remember I had to beg for a perm and didn’t get one until I was in high school)? Nowadays, I see little girls under the age of 6 and 7 with perms.
I love this article. I decided to be natural about 5 years ago, but it wasn’t because I thought that it would make me more of a ‘sistah’. It was because I had my hair permed at 8 at could not remember what my natural hair looked like; and before that my hair was constantly hot combed. I always like the feel of my regrowth and wondered what my hair was really like in its natural state. Not to mention that I was tired of wrapping my hair each night, tired of not being able to itch my scalp when I was due for a touch-up and just tired of the look altogether. I wanted something different. So I cut off my hair and left it in its natural state. I love it. I love the different styles I can create or just playing with the texture. However that doesn’t mean that I think anyone that has a perm or weave hates their natural hair or isn’t a ‘sistah’. As the author of this article said, black women have always been creative with their hair. It is an expression of their style and personality. We’ve all seen a straight or natural hairstyle and thought ‘that’s cute’ – that’s because we like versatility, we like creativeness, we like style. We need to stop looking for things that divide us, for a reason to not like another black women and focus on what makes us all sistah’s – like our strength, our beauty, our pride, our courage.
Wonderful Article..
As a natural I’m not in it for all the extra! I went natural because my hair was breaking off and damaged and I needed something different! I wanted my hair to be healthy and still be able to be managable. I love my different textures but I don’t knock anyone with a perm, weave, wig whateva! It’s all about doing you and I hate that people run around trying to get everyone to conform to what THEY feel is best!
I identified with a lot of what you had to say here with the exception of the fondness towards the process. I have thick hair, which took a lot more time to get straightened, and I was never happy about that. But the final product made me feel pretty great. I also think it’s important to acknowledge that we are now living in a time where all or most natural hairstyles are generally viewed positively and non-threatening by society, as opposed to the 1970s. I can remember a time when that wasn’t the case, and people would make fun of natural hair; suggesting ways to deal with whatever it was that was going on, on top of your head. It seems we’ve come full circle or going in circles on this one…
FANTASTIC article. I was just engaging someone over the internet who believes that every woman who straightens possesses a deep-seated hatred for themselves. Being a person that has worn it both ways (and periodically switches from one to the other), I find that notion insulting.
Thank you for this. People should just do what they like and not judge others for doing the same.
In the grand scheme of life it really shouldn’t matter how someone decides to style their hair. Hair is a personal choice and it really nobody’s business cept for the person rocking it. I’m a natural sister; but trust…just because someone’s natural doesn’t make them more authentic, have more integrity, or even love themselves more. That’s a bunch of mythological sista soldier hogwash.
Erykah Badu said it best: “Every sister with a natural ain’t down with the cause and every sister with a perm ain’t down for the fall.
It’s funny that you may say that because Tyra Banks is having a show on the issue of “good hair” vs “bad hair” tomorrow.
Look, I’m all for people doing what ever they want with their hair, but something has to be said about those perms. Why are we doing them? Simply because its “easier” to manage? I’d like to believe that black women aren’t suppose to have long hair (that’s another issue). We are doing these perms for practicality but also conformity.
If the white men didn’t control the media and have a unguided hand on the image of the women (all of them), the black hair industry wouldn’t exist.
Again, I’m all about people doing their own thing and living their own lives but I also believe that we have to think beyond our actions. There are reasons why we do some things and the “I do it because I like it” excuse should be delved deeper. What’s the like about the “it”?
Hi,
Thank you for this article, it was needed. I have been wearing my hair natural for almost 3 yeras now and KNOW I will never relax my hair again. That said, I do not view women who relax their hair as any less “Black.” I do object to the reasoning of some sistas who see natural hair as a ‘phase’ or a ‘statement’, natural hair is me and however you chose to wear your hair you must know who you are. Hair doesn’t make you, just like a book you need to crack it open to see the contents:)
I love Clutch!!! I absolutely love this article! I hate being in the “ooh you got good hair” category because of my native american and black heritage.. because of my ultra straight/curly when wet hair, people assume that I am not “black” enough to know and appreciate ALL of my history!
I catch more flack from ladies with permed hair than I ever did when I was permed. Looking bakc it seems untidy and damaged permed hair is considered better than natural locks any day. The questions range from ” so what are you going to do with your hair?”, or “so you’re not going to perm it ever again???” To be honest It pisses me off. I don’t ask people with some growth showing on their perms when they’ll cut ot off. I don’t really care what one does with their hair as long as it’s clean and healthy. My choice to go natural was not part of a fad or militant pro-blackness. I just want to be naturally me and I enjoy it. Just know for every nappy nazi you meet, there are armies of perm police. I will be happy the day all types of black hairstyles are be accepted by the mainstream and not used to make stupid pre-judgments.
I went natural in my late 20′s simply because the perms were starting to really break my hair off. I had no intentions of starting a revolution or trying to be “more black” whatever that means.
But I must say that due to random circumstances I HAD to stop pressing my natural hair. This is where the love affair began. (And no I dont have what people call “good hair”). But I learned an appreciation for my God-given natural hair that I never even thought possible.
Everyone has the righ to choose how they will wear their hair. But we cannot pretend that these views are not held and passed along:
1. Nappy/kinky=bad
2. “Good hair” (which is straight/loose curl pattern whether short but especially if long) is revered
3. Relaxers, though harmful chemical processes, are often deemed necessary to “tame our hair”, look professional, and is held up as the standard of beauty. (Isn’t is odd that we have accepted a standard of beauty that is the complete opposite of what we are?)
Even though I had a nice length of permed hair and I would never have said “I want hair like a white girl” I had to admit that that had been the ultimate goal. Not to necessarily be that white girl…but to have long straight hair with lots of body and movement like hers. I had to admit that wearing our hair straight was more than just a hairstyle in our black community…it had deeper roots and deeper meaning.
I don’t believe that woman with permed hair are any less “black” than those with natural hair. (And for the record I don’t express these views unless asked because some people get offended and that is not my intention.) But I do believe that there is a general enmity for our natural hair that is subtly perpetuated in our culture. And that we need to fight against this. I would love for us as a culture to get to a point where straightned hair IS just a style choice.
But right now Can we really say that when almost 80% (random assumption) of black woman permanantly alter some cultural characteristic through harmful methods that it has nothing to do with the shame that has been attached to that characteristic for hundreds of years?