On Saturday night I attended the 13th Annual Urbanworld Film Festival in New York City. One of the prime places for African-American films, this year the festival featured “Law Abiding Citizen,” Sophie Okonedo’s “Skin,” and a slew of independent films.
One of the most anticipated films of the festival was Chris Rock’s “Good Hair,” a movie I had been looking forward to.
No Black woman can walk into a movie entitled “Good Hair” and not mentally prepare herself for being judged down to her roots. I still wasn’t quite sure if my top knot ponytail would make the grade. I moved through a sea of brown women and made my way to the ticket collector. She stood before me and deemed me worthy of entrance, not only because of my press pass, but because she studied me and said I was a part of the minority of women found in this massive sea of weave that had “good hair.” I walked away in shock – my good hair experience was starting before I even saw the movie! Was this a compliment? Or was it just another thread of shame found in African-American culture binding our spirits into an intricate blanket of low self-esteem and lace-fronts?
Okay, I admit I was studying heads once I took my seat in the overcrowded theater. I remember looking at one girl’s cute short-layered bob hair cut with her honey blond streaks. Women seated around me were openly commenting on her hair. Don’t jump the gun -- the girl on the receiving end of these compliments was of the Asian persuasion. Although she was lacking weave, the swing and shine of her hair would put a sista’ rocking the same cut to shame. What is a Black woman to do? Well, Chris Rock supplied us with all of the answers to this question and countless others. Every man, woman, and child will walk away with a PhD in Weavology after viewing “Good Hair.”
There were familiar stories in "Good Hair," such as the “creamy crack." You just can’t take one hit; you’ve got to go back for more. Usually every 6 to 8 weeks I tame my fuzz with a "Just For Me" kiddie relaxer.
Then there was the footage of the sodium hydroxide found in the relaxer that can burn soda cans and chicken (skin, fat and meat!). Are you still thinking about your next touch-up?
Okay, let’s bring in the men. Reverend Al Sharpton and Ice-T both went on the record saying getting a relaxer has been one of the most painfully excruciating, mind-blowing, toe-curling, head-burning experiences of their lives. This process has left grown men in tears.
What am I trying to prove? When a dermatologist openly discussed her patients calling her up for consultations, asking if it would be okay to relax their toddler’s hair, my mouth dropped open. Can’t a kid be a kid? Please tell me that women are not relaxing the hair of babies. They have baby hair! Sadly, yes, it is so. Mothers have been known to relax the heads of children from the tender ages of 16 months to 3 years-old.
Where are weaves born? India, of course. So, we can finally put an end to the old joke about tailless ponies running around Texas. Droves of Indian women sacrifice their lovely locks in religious rituals. They are giving back to God for all of the blessings bestowed upon them. In turn, their hair is washed, racked and packaged in plastic.
Did you know that you can put a weave on layaway? A handful of women interviewed in an everyday beauty shop smiled with glee that they have successfully stored away the thousands of dollars it takes to walk out of the shop with a full head of hair. Regardless of their professions and the recession, they are all rocking a weave.
Well, some women don’t need to pay for their weaves. Husbands and boyfriends interviewed said they reluctantly dipped into their pockets and donated to their women’s weave fund. The irony in all of this is that the men who help buy the weave can’t even touch the weave. No! You can’t touch the hair. That is the unspoken truth in the weave game of love.
I walked away from the movie theater thinking about my grandmother’s hot comb. Beauty has always been painful; even as a child I sacrificed the tender top of my earlobes for a silky ponytail. My mother has always said that all hair is good, if you take care of it. Could the brown girls of the world come to the realization that we are in fact beautiful, fuzz, naps, kinks and all?
Could we stop hurting ourselves and our wallets and embrace what we have on the top of our heads, even if it isn’t much? Will we continue to carefully take our “oppression” off every night before going to bed, brush it out and put it back on every morning before we greet the world with a smile and a seamless center part?
Perhaps the focus should not be on our hair, but on our eyes. I hope that one day we can see our true beauty and block out the images of artificial, marketable, pre-packaged and “sponsor worthy” beauty. Chris Rock’s “Good Hair” made me realize that “Just For Me” may not be for me. I’d like to move into a mental space where I can think I am beautiful and good enough -- as is.
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J’Nara Corbin is a New York City-based actress and model.
To join the conversation check out Chris Rock’s “Good Hair” in theaters October 9th.