Naimah - Share Your HAIRstory

Naimah, age 40, is a speech/language therapist. She is married, has a son age 16, and a bonus son age 23. She lives in New Jersey

What is your 1^st or strongest hair memory?

My first memory of my hair being “a thing” was when I was in preschool. My mom went away overnight so my dad was in charge. My mom braided my hair and my sisters’ hair before she left. Before walking us to school, my dad took the braids out and let my hair loose. My hair sat on top of my head like a mushroom. I can remember sitting on the porch crying because I did not want to go to school with my hair looking like that! My dad yelled, “You better come on!” I had to follow my sisters and my two cousins to school. The entire preschool and my family laughed at me! I was crying and finally, the lunch lady took pity on me and did my hair. I think she had her granddaughter’s barrettes, and after that I was okay. My father turned my hair into his political statement.

So your father intentionally took your hair out of the braids to make an afro?

Yes! He intentionally took my hair out in order to make a statement.

What is your favorite or best hair memory?

When I was in third grade, my godmother did my hair for school pictures. She put it in tiny box braids with human hair extensions. It took forever because my hair was thick, coarse and untamable. But I thought it was so cute. I also remember my mother had a bag of hair. Yes! I said a bag of hair! My sisters and I dressed up in old bridesmaids’ dresses and attached the hair to our heads. My baby sister only had a small piece of hair because she got what was left. (Laughs)

What did you learn and believe about your hair from your mother?

I was told that our hair was beautiful in its natural state and that there is no such thing as “good” hair because all hair is “good”. She taught me that the natural state of your hair is your beauty. Changing and altering your natural hair was a statement of self-hate. I didn’t actually believe this until much later. My parents made their childrens’ hair into their own Pan-African political statement of beauty.

What did you learn or believe about your hair from family and friends?

All of my siblings are in the same boat when it comes to our hair. We all had the thick and rough stuff. We didn’t have a choice; we had to learn how to do our hair. My mom did not pay for us to go to the salon, although she did have one of her former students do our hair. Despite our parents’ beliefs, we all believed that something had to be done to our hair; we just couldn’t let it go free.

What were your favorite hairstyles in your elementary and high school years?

In elementary school, my grandmother straightened my hair so it was easier to deal with! It was smooth and shiny. But when my mother did my hair, she would part it down the middle then cornrow it straight down, and connect the cornrows at the ends. I hated that style with a passion!! I tried to pull the braids apart; she had me looking like Celie and Nettie from The Color Purple. In high school, I started doing my own hair, because I was a cheerleader and there was no natural hair. The senior captains said our hair had to be done, meaning straight. I would blow dry it, flat iron it, then curl it.

What did your mother say about you straightening your hair?

The straightening wasn’t a big deal because my hair was still natural. But when I started getting older and getting perms, she made negative comments but I did it anyway. I was NOT going to high school in those cornrows!

At what age did you start doing your own hair?

At a young age, my siblings and I swam competitively. I had to be creative with my hair because I couldn’t wash it every day. I would brush it and brush it until it was flat and then tie an ace bandage around it really tight so that it looked blow-dried. I was conscious of my hair from a very young age. The other African-American swimmers had perms, but my siblings and I had to struggle.

Other than the preschool incident, were you ever teased or ridiculed about your hair?

I wasn’t teased, but in high school, as a cheerleader, I knew my hair had to be done. Cornrows or ponytails were unacceptable. I had to be creative to fit in because my mom wasn’t paying to get my hair done. We had electric brushes and heating caps, but my mom didn’t use any heat, just all the grease you can imagine. She braided it and that was it. My older cousin was in hair school and she knew how to do perms, so I snuck and got a perm during my freshman year in high school. To this day, she still makes comments about us wasting money going to the hair salon.

Were you ever made to feel ashamed or wrong about your hair?

Growing up I was taught that changing my hair’s natural state was shameful and an expression of self-hate. Despite what I learned at home, I learned from the world that certain hair textures were not acceptable. My grandmother had soft, thick, curly hair and so did all of her children. My aunts had thick long hair, but somebody’s gene canceled it out for my father and all of his kids had very thick, coarse, nappy hair. Caring for my hair in its natural state, so that I felt beautiful, was not something I learned to do. Even trying to go natural as an adult was not pleasing to my eye.

Oprah tells a story about losing her hair after a bad perm. Do you have any hair tragedies?

My sophomore year in high school, on my birthday, I cut school that morning to get my hair done. I had planned to go to school late. I wanted a short Halle Berry cut. I had never gone to this person before. She used clippers with no guards, and cut it into a bowl. It was so sparse around the back that I was practically bald. I never made it to school that day. I cried and cried. My cousin put a weave in the back until it grew into the tapered cut that I was trying to get.

What were your favorite hairstyles in your 20s and 30s?

I’ve always like short hair because I feel that it fits my face. I’ve worn blond streaks, but I worked as a lifeguard and the combination of the sun and the bleach made my hair fall out. I liked the look of full, curly Diana Ross hair, so I wore sew-in weaves, but because they attach the fake hair to your hair, it weakens your natural hair if you do it too often. So, I tried to go natural, but my natural hair is very dry. I wanted to work out and all those styles are hard to maintain when exercising. So, what’s the point of being natural if I’m covering it up with braids, wigs, and weaves? I took out my sew-in, cut it short and got a relaxer. I had to ask myself, do I want to have hair or do I want to work out and be healthy?

Looking back, what is your funniest hair experience? It may not have been funny then, but it’s funny now.

I was 6 or 7 years old, and I wanted bangs. I remember I took a comb, but instead of combing it through, I tried to make a curl by rolling my hair in the comb all the way to my scalp and I couldn’t get the comb out. I remember my mother yelling, “why did you do that?!” She had to cut it out. So instead of a bang, I had a big puff ball in the front. All I wanted was a bang. (Laughs)

What transitions have you been through?

Natural, pressed, bowl cut, shag, perm to natural, natural back to perm, sew-in weaves, braids, quick weaves; I thought about getting a procedure where small amounts of hair are attached to your own hair. It’s a 12-hour process and costs about $1,400. You can wear your hair in all kinds of different styles. I researched it but I never did it, too much money and time.

Have you made any drastic decisions about your hair? If so, were they tied to anything happening in your life at that time?

I never made drastic decisions, because it’s slow growing. I’ve always wanted to try to follow the styles of celebrities, but I also knew that my hair was tied to my purse strings. I had to act my income in terms of my hair. I had to weigh getting a 4-6 week sew-in with cutting it off.

Have you ever allowed your hair to stop you from doing something you wanted to do?

Yes regularly. I have skipped church or other events because I didn’t like the way my hair looked. Now, I can wrap my hair in African wraps, but I don’t like the headscarf in the street look.

What do you believe about your hair now?

That our hair is still a political statement and always must be explained. When I worked in a hospital and came to work in a different style, there was a meeting about it. I was immediately encircled and had to explain it. It was as if I was making a statement, even if I wasn’t. Now, if I go to a Pan-African lecture with my mom, I feel a certain way because the other women are wearing their hair in natural styles. I think, ‘maybe I should’ve worn a wrap’.

What was the ethnicity of the women who encircled you and did you feel that they were just curious or did you think it was something else?

The women who encircled me were white and I felt that it was a genuine curiosity for the most part. But, there was one woman, who I felt like it was a microaggression.

What is your favorite way to wear your hair now?

I love it in a short, smooth pixie cut. I don’t like a lot of curls.