I think this person is beautiful, with beautiful hair.
But in my community, the women would say,
“You know you need to comb those peasy naps!”
Once combed, brushed and greased so that it shines, it would acceptable.
Don King’s hair is natural? It looks straight to me, like he presses it so that it sticks out on end.
He probably did straighten it. But it’s natural state is “kinky”, there seems to be no chemicals involved, and he allows it to ‘nap up’ by not going at it with a comb.
His roots are very clearly kinky black American hair that is not processed or combed and brushed.
He is the closest pic I could find for someone who seemed not to know what nappy is. But surely you know exactly what a natural, kinky head of hair looks like when uncombed. You know exactly the way it looks messy, ‘peasy’ and ungroomed.
Hey Nzinga, can you tell me your thoughts on this pic of India Arie and her hair?
It’s an example of naturally kinky hair that I consider well-groomed and beautiful, but others might disdainfully call nappy becaused its not combed.
http://www.doghouseboxing.com/media/Donking02_big.jpg
Don King. If that is not kinky, ungroomed, nappy hair, then I bail from this conversation right now. Because my experience is foreign to any others out there.
In my social circles, this is a style akin to dread locks. Dreadlocks are in a catagory of their own…the want to look ‘nappy’, in the sense that they are trying to keep a knotted up appearance. I love dreadlocks, but they are not for me.
I think those are pretty. There are actually separate grooming rules for dreads. Some are prettily styled and neatly kept, others, (mainly Rastafarian men) are purposely kept as unkempt as possible.
It may be ungroomed, but “nappy” (or kinky) is not the first thing that comes to mind when I think of his hair. I guess because it looks like it has been straightened with a hot comb.
When I think of kinky hair, I think of India Arie’s hair in that link I posted. In a purely descriptive, non-pejorative sense, she has nappy curls. Her hair is not dreaded, either. She simply has styled it so her curls are left in place and not “released” through brushing or combing. It also has all the shrinkage of kinky hair that has been washed and allowed to air dry.
Don King has a mad scientist cloud of cotton thing going on. Not especially nappy to me.
Ok. I know those aren’t dreadlocks Indie has. But her head is definitely styled and groomed, and I don’t think most blacks I know would call it nappy. It is definitely kinky.
Nappy was reserved for those with kinky hair that did not ‘do their hair’. They needed to groom it.
As far as Don King, the photo in that pic I linked is the exact definition of kinky, nappy hair, in my experience. It is not a cloud. My fro is. (in my opinion). His hair is a mess in that pic I linked to. It is definitely nappy, kinky, natural, and needs some grooming.
Looking at that pic of Don King again…I shudder to think of the hard time I would have combing that from root to tip. My grandma would say, “Lordy, this nappy stuff is gonna snap my comb in two!”
Okay, I think I get it now. I still don’t really have an idea of what longer “nappy” hair looks like (I don’t think Don King is really the best example.) I think I know, but I’m not sure.
My son’s roommate (who appears to be white) has enormous, thick, 2-ft-long dreadlocks. I love the look of them, but if I had black hair, I don’t think I’d opt for them.
I bow to you with the face’s definition. I have to realize that my experience is the minority on this issue. I will take solace in the fact that I get to be in a community that is clearly making huge leaps and bounds toward self love, that most of the black community hasn’t caught up to. My hood is a trend setter!
Because, for me and my hair, it is untrue.
from your original post (#9)
My hair, in its natural state, does hide the face, does not display bone structure, and sure as hell does not compliment the wearer. When someone tells me how wonderful black hair is because it does those things - then they’re speaking about some kind of fantasy ideal of black hair in their minds, not the reality that is growing out of my head (which also doesn’t look halfway professional unless it’s wrestled back into a bun, and then it doesn’t look good - it just looks “not unprofessional”).
I don’t need to be complimented on your imagination.
And like Omega Glory, I’d also be long gone. Of course, after day 3 of taking 45minutes+ to detangle my hair (assuming you found the right conditioner), much less style it, I’m guessing you might hunt me down…unless you’re one of those people who really, really, really, really likes playing with hair.
Many biracial people, along with folks who have a racially diverse lineage but are not technically biracial, have multi-textured hair. So while outwardly they appear to have loose curls, they may have patches that are 100% kinky. Naps, beady-bees, kitchens…all that.
I am one of these people. On my head, I have straight, wavy, curly, and kinky hair. A regular United Nations. Which means that it has been a big challenge coming up with a haircare regime that satisfies all my different follicular personalities, while still suiting my tastes and style. (I’d like to have my older sister’s twists, for instance, but at my hair’s present length only the kinky crown of my head could pull it off).
(Once I finally let my older sister play in my hair, because she was always begging to. And she never kept secret her jealousy for my “good” hair. So I let her have at it one day, knowing what was going to happen. It took her two seconds to discover the nappy bush that all that “good” hair was hiding. She couldn’t comb through it. Don’t think she’s quite as jealous anymore! 
)
In fact, I would argue “multi” people deal with hair issues that other black people do not have to face, simply because they and their hair straddle mulitple worlds. Growing up, my kinky-haired mother used to do things to my hair that made me look like Boo Boo the Fool (Easter Sunday photo 1983, I’m looking at you) because she only knew what worked on her hair, never really understanding the textures of my head (one reason why I think she was so quick to straighten my hair. It leveled the playing field, so to speak). Yet, I can’t do the things that white people do to their hair (like daily washings…I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to explain to people that my hair is not “dirty” simply because I don’t shampoo every day). Also, in some ways there’s even more pressure to conform, because you’re already a big ole racial freak and you don’t want to stand out even more by having “scary” hair. My father has wavy hair and fully believes in the “nappy=kinky=UGLY!!” philosophy. To him even a loose curl is a nap. Sometimes based on what he says to me, I think he’s one of those creepy black people who think a light-skinned black woman with nappy hair is a “waste”…that if I wore more “European” hairstyles (yes, he says “European”) then I would be perfect–an almost-white woman. And as I said earlier, I became somewhat alienated from my racial identity when I went natural, because my hair texture was seen as foreign and “other” by the sistas. But the processed form, they understood. Weird, huh?
So I wouldn’t exclude biracial or “multi” folks from this discussion (not saying that’s what you’re doing, Nzinga, but I just don’t want you to). They have different blues and blessings, but they still got 'em.
Monstro,thank you for such a nice post. Almost all of your post demonstrates exactly why I think we cannot see this situation from the same perspective.
This all started because I was trying to make the point that black women with (and I am trying to be specific here) the kind of kinky hair that is associated with non-biracial heritage. This is important because in the black (non bi-racial) community, it is my opinion that fathers don’t generally tend to make their daughters feel ugly for having kinky hair. I understand that this happened to you, but it is far from what happened in my life.
I am sure it happens. But it is not what generally happens in my opinion.
I think your experience is not typical of black women with kinky (read the kind of kinky that is not mistaken for ‘good’ with kinks underneath) hair.
I think for black women with Kinky hair (the ones that I know) kinky hair is not the same as nappy. Kinky hair is not unattractive. The black women without natural hair do not have some kind of self loathing going on. For the black women that I know, it is a myth that we hate our natural hair. Not all of us, but by and large, (in my circles) it is a myth.
I love my sisters and brothers, bi-racial, black, spanish, I love all people. But the issue of kinky hair being mainly percieved as a negative in the black community, I feel strongly about it. Because I think it gives people a platform to say, “they don’t even love and respect themselves…how can anyone else be expected to”.
This has me confused. If it happened to me and I do have “good” hair, wouldn’t that indicate the severity of the overall mindset?
I guess what I’m asking is: Why would having “good” hair give me a worse experience with hair non-conformity than a person with “bad” hair? Why would I have more baggage, more pressure to conform? This is counterintuitive.
My experience, living in the urban South and having roots in the Midwest (small town Indiana) belies this. Now I wouldn’t go so far as to say that all black women hate our hair or that they are suffering from self-loathing. But do we carry baggage due to our hair experiences? Yes! Are many of us sensitive when it comes to our hair? Yes! Do many of us feel pressure to conform to the straight hair aesthetic? Yes! Why is answering yes to these questions so controversial?
Well, I think you’re carrying this to an extreme, as if we are talking about a sordid pathology that we should be ashamed of. No one likes everything about them. Why can’t hair be one of those things? White women are more likely to have issues regarding their bodies than black women. Black women, IMHO, are more likely to have issues regarding their hair. I’ve seen in too much in my family and amongst others to disregard my experience as a minority. I’m not discounting what you have experienced (especially since the geographic context makes its believable), but I don’t think I’m an outlier.
I’m curious if your experiences have revealed to you black folks, collectively, also embracing their skin coloring and facial features. Because if they have, you definitely live in a different world than I do!
I gladly admit to being the minority. This thread proves it. I have a new respect for my own immediate community. We are an anomally it seems.
I apologize that I am not as articulate as I would like to be. I am growing with that.
I am trying to say that I didn’t have a lot of bi-racial friends and family. They were (and are) about 5 percent of my community. I don’t think they have the same experience as I have had. I think there is a different set of experiences that come along with being bi-racial in regards to hair.
I only maintain that in my experience, most black women don’t hate their natural hair. Anyone out side of the specific culture and heritage to which I refer, (people who don’t have kinky, black American hair) may not see things the same way the we (the black women in my social circle and community) see things.
The only issue I have with this is that I don’t want anyone to think that there is a self-hate thing going on with black women that doesn’t exist. I just want to make that one point plain…not related to you or your experiences or posts. Just my own experience. I think it is good for black women if this myth is abolished.
Well it’s a good anomaly. And it’s good to have you on the board, by the way.
This is extremely opportune timing for me, on Monday I had a question about black folks’ hair, and was wondering where I was going to find the answer! I love that about the SDMB.
So I was on the subway, and overheard a conversation between two women, I would guess in their late 20s. They were talking about how one of them had recently made a career change, and how much she liked her new job. The other asked what made her decide to leave her old job.
Her answer was something like this – I liked some things about the job, but the corporate culture just wasn’t for me. We saw clients every day, so there was a very strict company dress code, and I got tired of it. I had to wear a suit every day, I had to straighten my hair, and I always had to wear hose.
The way she listed those examples made me wonder if it was actually possible that in 2007, an HR office would inform a woman that she had to straighten her hair. I get the suit, and I get the hose, as typical parts of a corporate dress code, but straightening her hair? That seems very … personal. Is this something that would be normal for someone who worked in a formal office?
For what it’s worth, she made this comment in a very matter-of-fact way – she was tired of the corporate dress code, she wasn’t protesting the dress code as unfair or inappropriate. (I mean, in as much as I could tell from listening to two strangers on a train.)