What is Good Hair? Chris Rock Airs Our Dirty Laundry
I’ve see several promotion for Chris Rocks documentary title “Good Hair”. I think this is definitely a topic up for debate. I’d like to share my opinion on this topic. My hair is super think and up until a few months ago I’ve wore relaxers, weaves and extensions. I never thought of my hair as bad hair but I have compared it to women who’s hair may appear to be more manageable because of their softer or more wavy texture. Since beginning my journey to natural hair I have really grown to love my hair and how easily it can be managed with the right products and techniques.
I think what many women fail to realize is that once you learn your hair type and learn what it takes to get it under control the idea of bad hair no longer exist. As I am transitioning to natural I am learning that there are more natural ways to achieve that sleek frizz free look that we want. I am loving getting my silk outs, which I have yet to learn to master at home. I think “Good Hair” is healthy hair, and with the right care and technique anyone can have it. Stop comparing your hair to what you see and start loving and learning your hair.
I wanted to share a clip of the Chris Rock documentary “Good Hair” and I welcome your comments and your opinions on this issue.
“Good Hair” TV Promo from Nelson George on Vimeo.
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I think that African American women are under a lot of pressure when it comes to our hair because we’ve been taught that soft, long, straight hair is better. But as this blog post states – good hair is healthy hair.
Black women are still trying to find our way to having acceptable good looking hair. I say acceptable because my parents are baby boomers and if you were in a professional setting with a fro, the other co-workers automatically assumed that you were making a political statement.
We’ve been introduced to straight combs, relaxers because of Madam C.J Walker she was the first black woman millionaire because African American women are looking for a way to style their hair. While people in Europe were getting together their sense of style and fashion black people had other concerns, we’re behind the curve when it comes to hair.
Growing up in Queens NY in the 80’s I remember my mom, aunts and their friends taking the time style their hair. The experience was like an spiritual ritual and the instruments they used were fascinating.
My Mom had sets of curlers both foam and hard, and a barely used hot curler set and even a portable hair dryer. My aunts who were in their late teens at the time had VO5 hot oil,Pink oil and other potions to experiment with the latest styles. Back then everyone in the neighborhood had a sister or friend who knew how to braid and bead. Going to the salon was a treat for special occasions.
My family has a diverse Black and West Indian background, My Grandmother being Jamaican & Indian(East)had soft shiny hair that she would set in rollers to create a classic look. My sister was born with a full head of dark auburn hair so enviable the nurses refused to give my mom a brush to style it but always presented my sister with her hair combed. Looking at my childhood pictures with ribbons and a full curly Fro I wish my hair was that healthy.
I was what we black women call Tender Headed. My hair was super kinky curly and my face was framed with baby hair. If I did nothing to it would turn into dreadlocks on its own. I loved wetting it at bath time pretending to be a mermaid because it felt weightless. My sisters and I loved the beach but would become somber as our hair dried on the way home knowing the dreaded comb awaited. I spent nights howling on my moms lap as she would comb our hair after dinner. She worked the night shift at the hospital and would send us to bed with her satin scarves tied tight around our heads. I was a wild sleeper and would wake up with my hair pulled about. My dad who had 4 younger sisters would “plat” our hair when it came loose and drop us off at school. There were a few times my mom would fall over laughing at my dads creation when she came to pick us up.
As a Kid going to private school and summer camp, I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t just wake up from nap time with manageable hair like my white classmates. I was always aware my hair was a mess even at that age. Later activities like swim class or water park trips where a hassle. The other girls could just rinse their hair in the shower with soap and get dressed with it sopping wet, while I had a frizzy mess just waiting to torture me through the day. To make matters worse I didn’t know how to do my own hair and would resort to a ponytail. At times my mom would take us to get our hair braided at the African salon, The braids felt heavy and hurt at first. While I had freedom from styling. I missed touching my own hair.
By the time I was 11 I got a kiddie perm from my moms hairdresser. I loved it. No more knots just smooth easy hair!. It wasn’t long before I was a devout slave to relaxers. After many years my hair became thinner, I did the short styles, Colored it once and then choose to grow it long but wouldn’t grow back to the length it was before. My godsister who was a beautiful and tall Haitian/ French girl always had inexplicable long hair. During a sleep over at her place I discovered hair pieces weaves& extensions.
To this day I wear extensions. My boyfriend loves the look of long hair (I had the Rhianna look when I met him still extensions). It wasn’t to long ago that in the work place white co- workers used to wonder how do black women get long hair so fast? Now that Extensions are popular in Hollywood. My Co-workers have wizened up. An old co-worker a white guy who was interested in dating me watched the movie”something new” and on my last day felt safe enough to ask me “so how do they get your in” I smiled and explained that my own hair was braided and hair was sown to the braid. While he seemed enlightened. I was mortified. I would never want to be classified as fake.