I have yet to have a dialog on race where both the person of the minority group in question and someone from the dominant (white) culture really want to engage with the defenses down. Acknowledging privilege doesn’t have to be an exercise in guilt-tripping by the minority group, nor is it some catastrophe to say we are all steeped in racism in ways that we don’t ever question or are even aware of on a daily basis.
The fact is that our country’s history and economic power was built on white settlers displacing and slaughtering native people on this mainland, and owning other human beings for the purpose of labor that enriched them (and their descendants). The simple fact is that while slavery was abolished in 1865, the U.S. spent the last century roiling over race, as our legislative and legal systems attempted to curtail institutionalized racism.
Historian Khalil Gibran Muhammad, head of the New York Public Library’s Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture reflected upon the little-discussed contradictions between the American belief in equality and freedom — and its actual treatment of its own citizens with Bill Moyers. (Transcript):
BILL MOYERS: Yeah, it took me a long time, long past college and even graduate school, to figure out that eight of the first ten of our presidents were enriched by their ownership of capital, land or slaves. We were never taught that these men actually created a government, a constitution designed to protect the further acquisition of property for the privileged classes. Which that just didn’t get discussed.
KHALIL GIBRAN MUHAMMAD: Well, it’s also the difference between an individual living a contradiction in terms of enslaving another as a proponent of freedom. And the ways in which those same individuals helped to build philosophical and ideological justifications for enslavement. And again, that’s where things get a little trickier. So of course Thomas Jefferson penned “Notes on the State of Virginia” in 1787, which was effectively one of the first scientific arguments for why black people should be treated differently from whites, by virtue of their racial inferiority.
In other words, the scientific notion that black people were fundamentally different, whether it was in hair texture or in body odor, which is all part of Thomas Jefferson’s analysis, gave birth to the enduring justification that even in America, even in a place that represented a tradition of republicanism in the world, the first modern democracy, that you could actually reconcile freedom and slavery, as long as the people who were enslaved were not equal citizens, were not made of the stuff of equal humanity.
BILL MOYERS: Well, then you had to construct a system that made sure they could never be seen to be equal members of society?
KHALIL GIBRAN MUHAMMAD: Correct. Well, that system was already self-reinforcing by the economic imperatives of enslavement. So you had the system that provided a modus operandi for reproducing inferiority. But you had to explain it still. And it was to that task that theologians, philosophers, scientists, eventually social scientists, journalists and politicians eventually weighed in and said, “This all makes sense. It makes sense because these people– I mean, from a religious standpoint, these people are not of the same God even. That they represent a different species created by God to serve White men.”
Khalil Muhammad on Confronting the Contradictions of America’s Past from BillMoyers.com on Vimeo.
***
It’s nice to know that I’m a full human being in 2012. At least legally. Our President knows full well what it’s like to be seen as a monkey by some U.S. citizens. Culturally, while we’ve moved forward in creating a more integrated cultural patchwork (and interracial marriages continue to bloom), we are still in denial about why it’s so difficult to talk about how the past affects the present without getting defensive, or simply down. It is a downer to talk about how our racial economic history continues to play itself out, even as we are so many generations away from the dark past. Sometimes it’s worth discussing even if there is no concrete solution. It’s the learning about one another’s discomfort — without accusation or rancor — that leads to more productive conversations that allow assumptions and perceptions to be challenged.
Allowing one’s ignorance or upbringing to be an excuse not to explore ingrained assumptions about ethnic or racial difference is lazy. And it’s pretty clear that many Americans would rather be lazy and remain blissful in their fear and ignorance, choosing to live among people like themselves rather than extend themselves socially to “the other.” I’ve spoken to people who consider the fact that they work with a diverse group of co-workers as their example of “exposure” to difference, but can’t claim one CLOSE friend who is of a different race or even a non-Christian religion (or god forbid, an atheist!).
What is a “close friend”?
If you’re white, a “close friend,” for instance, would be a black friend you could comfortably actually ask questions about, say, their hair — and that friend wouldn’t take offense, but would be easily willing to talk about hair texture, differences in how we take care of it, etc. Or asking a Jewish or Muslim friend about customs you are unfamiliar with as a Christian and have no fear of rejection or defensive reaction.
If you don’t have friends of that nature, then you haven’t extended yourself beyond your cultural comfort zone.
On the other hand, let’s just say I’ve had numerous experiences with white people I don’t know just walking up and asking if they can touch my locs. I give them bravery points (how do they know I won’t snap back at them to stay out of my personal space?). I’m not sure what that’s about, but what is it about black women’s hair, particularly it its natural state (locs, twists, etc), that fascinates some people to that degree?
On the politics of “black hair” tip — and it is political, take a look at black women explaining the deal on Melissa Harris-Perry’s show – the economy around it, the effect of dominant culture and the nitty gritty interesting facts white folks may be curious about, and were afraid to ask. The women on the panel — actress Nicole Ari Parker of Broadway’s Streetcar Named Desire, University of Pennsylvania professor Anthea Butler, cultural critic Joan Morgan, and CurlyNikki.com founder Nikki Walton go into the subculture surrounding the weave.
Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, >world news, and news about the economy
How screwed up is it that majority of Americans are not ready for a First Lady with kinky hair? Why is this thought threatening — this is why non-heated conversations about this kind of curious fear need to occur. It’s not a small deal, because it gets to the root — no pun intended — about perceptions of race, difference and inferiority.
Black women spend an inordinate amount of their income on hair care ($185 million/year is garnered by the hair care industrial complex), and they are constantly judged – weave vs. chemical straightening vs. natural hair. More women are moving toward natural hair, growing out the damaged dried-out hair, but it is a very personal decision that rocks foundations — even in families with disapproving relatives making it clear that you need to “stop the nap” in its tracks. It still goes on.
But the personal becomes the political when the texture of your hair affects what kind of job you can hold, how your beauty is perceived or categorized, what your socioeconomic status is assumed to be. That is something most white people will never experience (aside from people who purposely choose a counter-culture hairstyle that is judged, like a mohawk or non-traditional color).
What I also experience is some earnest white people, trying to identify with the oppression associated with hair politics, make the mistake of opining that there is some equivalence of illegal or socioeconomic discrimination that they’ve experienced (such as the mohawk analogy), which is of course, not equivalent. Your hair doesn’t grow out at the root in a way that it is automatically seen as a legacy mark of racial and socioeconomic inferiority that, no matter your education level, can stand in the way of economic success. But, let me underscore, it’s ok if you don’t have any equivalent experience of oppression to share. The point of talking about these differences is to listen, share and learn, not pile on guilt you might be feeling that you don’t want assigned to you by listening to these stories. Any guilt (or defensiveness) should be lifted by acknowledging that privilege exists, and that we all can consciously begin to understand how difference and history are linked, and move past it by not participating in the lazy broad strokes painted on groups as a way to dismiss the individual.
Related:
* Hair relaxer stench and toxicity send beauticians and clients into ‘gas masks’
* Documentary on the politics of hair
* Skin and the color of money




16 Comments


I agree with everything you say, but I add that between white people of different classes and other background considerations, hair is an important signifier. A white woman in a rural area of Tennessee can get what for her area is considered a “fancy” hair styling, but if she walked into an administrative assistant position job interview in Cleveland with that same hair style, she would get interviewed but be completely out of the running because of her hair. In most major U.S. corporations, the hair styles tolerated for men who want to be taken seriously in that business context is extremely narrow. Many Jews who for all practical purposes look “white” happen to have kinky curly hair by nature. It’s only tolerated in those corporate environments if it is close-cropped and evenly-surfaced. Red heads, we might note, have to be ultra-meticulous in the hair-neatness factor, in order to be perceived as not crossing over a line into un-respectability. And just think if one of the founding fathers showed up for a corporate interview today, wearing a powdered white wig with a ribbon in it. My greatest objection to the fetishization of the founding fathers is that any decent person would have refused the “slaves are 3/5ths of a person each” atrocity and gone to make their political alliances elsewhere.
I will be honest that I shy away from most in-person conversations about race because I am sick and tired of being used as a convenient whipping post for people who are angry about the racism they endure. And how many times have I been accused of being racist even if I don’t act racist or say racist things because “all white people are racists, they just don’t know it/wont’ admit it”? There is no dialog there, only, again, someone looking for a white person to unload their anger onto.
This isn’t to say that I haven’t had some really good conversations with others, I certainly have. But just that I am less likely to try anymore unless I trust the person I’m conversing with to not be out for vengeance. No more conversations with people I’ve only recently met, it isn’t worth it.
Again, the decision to style one’s hair in a certain way is a choice, and class, regional culture, etc. affect that. However, one can change a style that is determined by choice if you want to obtain a job in a corporate setting.
But that’s certainly not the same as the hair as it grows out of your head is deemed inferior, a racial judgment that you MUST alter the texture of your natural hair to be deemed suitable for a job.
This is the problem nappy-headed Jews face, as you mentioned. I recall back when I was in high school and still using relaxers, I went to a salon called Ollie’s in Queens, and more than half of the women in there were Jewish girls getting any trace of a nap chemically erased.
And that’s the problem — minorities taking their frustration about bias and preconceived notions out on people who earnestly want to open up a dialogue. It takes both sides to meet in the middle, something I’ve always cultivated on PHB. No question is stupid when it comes to learning about differences. I never lashed out at the olive-skinned Italian college peer who asked me if I could tan. I could have, but I chose to educate and open a discussion with a person (she was from the “sundown town” at the time Bay Ridge neighborhood) who clearly had no exposure to people of color to the extent that she could ask that question safely. I wasn’t going to squash the opportunity for understanding.
I don’t think there’s a need to have an equivalent experience to the politics of hair to appreciate its significance. I disagree that women who style their hair and encounter cultural resistance have the same experience – they might internalize it as a rejection of their culture, but its not much different than makeup, clothing, even resumes being deemed inappropriate for corporate life. And those can all be changed in one fell swoop as well as making accomodations to “go home” when needed. I suspect that’s more along the lines of our tendency to build silos around our cultural identity – not just being white, but being from a small mid-Western town and being from the South and being from a community that still maintains strong ethnic ties (assuming the ethnicity is considered white – like Italian or European ethnic groups.)
I don’t perceive someone who dumps on me as a symbol of their frustration as being out for vengeance. I can say “I’m not racist” until the end of time, but I’m not unaware of the fact that I’ve benefitted in a million ways from being white in a racist society. And I’m willing to admit that I do have racist thoughts and habits — I’m not proud of them, but I’m not expecting the person standing before me to forgive me. Its up to me to work through that. There’s no external validation for rising above the influence of racism in my life. But sometimes if I can stand there and take it and respond in a way that validates what they are saying and my willingness to hear it and own it without being responsible for every white person can open the door.
The good friends concept as an indicator of cultural competency is interesting. I would fail, but a lot of that has to do with my personal demons.
The most eye-opening comment, for me, during that Melissa Harris-Perry discussion was when all the women agreed that the most radical thing, culturally, that an African-American woman can do with her hair is leave it alone.
Something about that struck me as profoundly wrong and at the very heart of our cultural conversation about hair. I mean, leaving your hair the way it comes out of your head is radical? If a culture judges that radical, what does it say about the culture’s view of the people whose hair we’re talking about?
It still disturbs me that this is so. I’m trying to think of another example like this and I can’t.
PS I think your 185-million-dollar figure is incredibly low, by the way, even if you’re talking only about products purchased by and for Black women’s hair…..
Try being a woman and leaving the hair that grows in your arm pits or on your legs. My own mother called me “slovenly” back in the day, but these days it’s silent stares and finger pointing from the random strangers who see me in shorts. Oh, and audible “whispers” by horrified girls.
Men don’t have it that much better… I’ve got a beard that grows practically from my eyeballs to my adam’s apple that has to be shaved once or twice a day to remain looking presentable and kempt.
And then there’s the unibrow and other unmentionable ear & nose hairs that have to be mowed weekly.
I’m not sure that any of us would be welcome in polite company in our natural state, lol
Again, the texture of one’s hair as a racial signifier is much different than hygeine or styling customs that are on the receiving end of judgment. Every culture (and subcultures) treats facial and body hair differently, add gender norms to it, etc. But no one doubted you were a human being for those cultural choices (or bucking them). U.S. culture’s unease with body hair and women or men and the unibrow is abhorrent, but no one doubts that underneath the hair as a white person, that you have privilege that a black person whose hair is long and ungroomed, on the head, underarms or legs, that does not. All one has to do is cut or shave it off.
The fact that hairstyles involving traditionally well-groomed (albeit foreign, apparently to white employers) natural hair were specifically used as an excuse to discriminate in terms of employment, citing that unless a black woman’s hair was chemically straighted (i.e. damaged) to approximate straight Euro hair, or a black man could only wear a close-cropped afro so as not to have the nap offend a customer, is a clear attempt to racialize hair in order to treat someone as inferior.
I’m not saying my hairy legs example is the equivalent of the racist hair rules that African Americans are up against. I was just presenting another example of “leaving your hair the way it comes out…is radical”.
So if you want to have a conversation about race with women AND men, I’d leave the topic of hair for another occasion.
First, who I am for context: I’m white, male and gay. My workplace of 600 people for more than 20 years is about 65% black, and a good mix of white, Asian and Latino in the remaining 35%. Most of the leadership is black and I am a member of leadership. While my childhood was such that I grew up without prejudices (really long story – I grew up in a multi-ethnic, multi-lingual and multi-generational household), I have learned a lot from my workplace. Not having prejudices doesn’t mean that I understood the differences in opportunities that are available because of race.
In my workplace, we deal with issues of race as part of our work. What we have found is that we have to educate everyone, including blacks, about how insidious institutional racism is. It is so bad in our community that if you are born in one neighborhood, your life expectancy is 15 years less than in another neighborhood in the same city. And yes, this disparity is because of institutional racism.
So we have classes for our staff. And in these classes, it is really difficult to explain how pervasive racism is without it becoming a very emotion-charged conversation. Whites (and non-blacks) sometime internalize the facts into ’blame’ and that is the fireworks begin. Blacks sometime weep or get angry. We have toned-down the curriculum, but we were not able to move forward as a department until we had (and continue to have) these conversations and classes.
And this is the same for our culture in the United States. We have to talk about this but we need to be deliberate and educated as to how to do this. Popular media could really help with this.
Just as old homophobes are dying out (we say that we are winning LGBT rights one funeral at a time) it is the same for racists and now is the right time to move forward with this conversation.
I started engaging my co-workers early on. I’m short and ’huggable’ and even the most rabidly homophobic black man I’ve had to work with always hugs me when he sees me. I’ve always taken risks in conversations, knowing that my motives have been pure. I’ve been smacked-down a few times (some deservedly) but we sometimes have to fail to learn.
The important thing for us is to talk and be honest.
One of the easiest stories to understand racism is ’The Gardener’s Tale’ by Camara Jones. It needs to be developed into a video that is engaging.
Thank you for this very thoughtful post on hair, race, privilege, and racism.
I’m in Israel for a few months, and I can testify that the desire for straight hair is still alive even in a country where the majority of the population is Jewish, and many people have wavy to kinky hair. The daughter of a friend of mine regularly straightens her wavy hair using a hair dryer and brush. The northern European standard of beauty for a woman – long straight hair – shows up in advertisements here, even for completely unrelated products (for example, an ad with a family in it will show the mother with long straight hair, often blond – and not that many people in Israel have naturally blond hair!). I think this shows how racist standards of beauty, favoring only one physical type (northern European), have spread across the world.
um…ok, I’m as white as they come with redish blond hair that has as much body to it as Mit Romney (its totally limp).
Growing up down south I did get an education in kinky hair in 2nd grade. One of the rights of womanhood was for a young girl of color to be old enough to have her hair straightened. The girls were curious as to our teachers straight hair, so she broght in her hair took kit. Some old irons for flattening, straightening all made of wrought iron….and I’m gonna say it. They smelled of semi-rancid bacon grease and burnt hair. (that smell, once smelled will stay with you a looooong time and I don’t like that smell)
That year, I actually got ‘fro to ‘fit in, to see how it was, ya know…to dig it. Was cool, was fun and with screaming red hair (at that time, after the permanent grew out later that year, my hair grew in black, red and blond and it drove every one nuts and my grandma insisted that being in that classroom with ‘those people’ was contaminating me)(really just ignore her, she was crazy as they get)
So, the whole artifical look some women feel that they have to atain? I do have mixed feelings about it, I love my friends no matter what they look like and just so long as they’re not in pain or distress I’m ok with how they want to look like. But their natural hair, to me is just as beautiful.
Gina, the stench of those relaxer chemicals and burned hair combined with hair grease are unpleasant. As someone burned many times by the hot comb as a child, it’s a traumatizing experience for only a few days of “straight” hair. And if it was humid, your hair “went back” almost immediately. The whole issue of black women not liking to swim or exercise heavily is part of the hair politics. If you’ve invested X amount of your paycheck on your hair, you’re unlikely to do anything that will damage that investment. That’s the major reason I went natural in the 90s, and never went back, starting my locs in 1999-2000. No more worries about weather, swimming or sweating. Freedom.
(HUGS) to you Pam, and I love your hair. Its just so you, ya know?