Good Hair

The same thing that makes you laugh makes you cry.  This old saying best describes my thoughts about Chris Rock’s documentary Good Hair.  As a Black woman I was very curious to see just what this film was all about.  Notions of “good” and “bad” hair have existed within the Black community since time immemorial, or so it seems.  One might think that such concepts would have fallen away with Jim Crow, but these antiquated viewpoints persist.  Through various conversations I’ve had with friends of other races I’ve learned that our issues aren’t known by many outside of the Black community.  Light-skinned vs. dark-skinned. Good hair vs. Bad hair.  This scene here from Spike Lee’s School Daze will give you a good idea of the self-loathing that exists within the Black community.

Rock attempts to answer the question “What is good hair?”  Well, any Black woman (especially one from the South) can answer that question.  Good hair is silky and straight, completely opposite from most of our natural hair, which is coarse and kinky.  During slavery, those slaves who were the offspring of the slave master received preferential treatment.  If your skin was fairer or your hair straighter (a consequence of race-mixing), then you were treated better.  It’s as simple as that.  Unfortunately these vestiges of America’s Great Atrocity are still prevalent today.  Rock examines the Black woman’s dependence, or addiction even – to chemical relaxers and/or hair weaves.  This is a sensitive topic because it pulls the scab off the nasty wound of insecurity and inferiority, not for me personally, but of our people, historically.  Many sisters perm their hair for convenience, not because they wish they were White, but I’m not sure Chris Rock fleshed this out adequately.  The impetus for the movie was his daughter, who asked him sadly why she didn’t have good hair.  The concept itself is so outdated that it’s troubling we’re still even having this discussion.

I was hoping Rock would do more to purport the belief that black is indeed beautiful, but he played it for laughs for the most part.  I’m not sure what his goals were.  He closed by saying he wanted his daughter to know that what’s on top of her head isn’t as important as what is inside it.   That’s admirable and true, but he should also want his child to believe that she and her hair are beautiful just as God made them.  He showed how Black women collectively spend millions of dollars every year…just to look like someone else.  The human hair that comprises most weaves comes from Indian women, who cut it as part of a religious ceremony.  It is then sold in America.  This is just wrong to me, on so many levels.  The hair is initially cut for a noble purpose but winds up as a representation of superficiality and self-dissatisfaction.  Black women break their bank to attain the hair that Indian women have naturally.  That bothers me.  As a person who was told in my youth that I had “good hair,” I’m sure lots of sisters would tell me to shove it, but my opinion is just as valid as anyone else.

I don’t think Good Hair did enough to counteract the belief of many Black women that their natural hair is unacceptable, something to be reviled and tamed.  He poked fun, but he didn’t reassure.  I will credit him for tackling a provocative and controversial topic and for making a film that sparks discourse, but I wish he would’ve aimed for more than laughs.