My Coming out to Corporate America

“It was by God’s grace that I got this job and I wasn’t going to let this hair He gave me mess it up.”

It’s funny because I have shared my natural hair journey with you before: I sawed off every permed hair in my head and began wearing my natural locks. It was a story of liberation. I was finally being “the me” I always envisioned, and my hair was the outer expression of what happened to me on the inside.

I was free.

Free from all the generational curses, societal norms and stereotypes that had been placed on me. I was graduating from college in a year and I would be taking on the world with my new hair and empowered attitude.

Then I graduated.

After looking and landing my first corporate job I realized, maybe I am not as free as I thought I was. Around the time of my interview I really needed to take my braids down. I had worn braids for 2 months and taking them down was overdue. I wore them to the interview anyway. What I then equated to lavish laziness, I later recognized as fear.

          ” I did not know what corporate America would think of my unrestrained curls.”

College was over, and all those thoughtful hippies and Sister Souljah types were no longer around to feed my ego. There was no one around me saying how cool and beautiful my curls are. India Arie’s “I Am Not My Hair” was no longer my imagination’s theme song.

All I could remember was how other Colored girls with natural hair who said they wore their hair straight for months, because when you’re the only person of color you have enough stereotypes in the office to battle.

I was so busy feeding into what everyone else said, there was no room to add what I thought on the plate. Bottom line, I was a mess; I was too scared to wear a twist out let alone an Afro puff.  My natural tresses were supposed to enact freedom; instead I was more oppressed than ever.

So you’re probably wondering, how I got over it? I wish I had this triumphant epiphany to share, or a jubilant tale of a great voice coming from heaven, telling me, “Baby your gonna’ be alright”, but I don’t.

It was purely accidental.

One night my mom was too busy to braid my hair, so I went home and tried to curl my hair. The style turned out nice, but when I woke up the next morning, the curls went wrong. My hair was a disaster. Usually I was capable of fixing it but nothing seemed to work. I would need to start over to fix my hair. I hopped in the tub and washed my hair in the shower.

When I was finished, I looked in the mirror at my tight curly fro. With less than an hour to report to work, I had no choice but to wear an Afro. I looked in the closest for the most professional dress and heels I possessed because if I was going to wear my hair “like this” and keep my confidence, I was going to have to own it!

I remember walking into my office and feeling somewhat of a spectacle. I got a few look and stares, but I also received a few “I love its” and “Your gorgeous’”. I sat in my office and looked in the mirror close by and thought how good I looked and wondered why I took so long to do this. I was still professional and was probably earning a promotion since no one had to look at those two month old braids any longer!

I am still a work in progress. I don’t always overflow in confidence every day I rock my natural tresses. But now I know for sure that I wear my hair for me instead of basing my look on what others think.  Corporate America is doing just fine with my unrestrained curls and so am I.

So I challenged you as I challenge myself daily to be brave, bold, and beautiful since God so graciously chose you to be kissed by the sun.

Rocking my afro at Casual Friday in the office #Freedom

Hair Obsession

me at age 4

If you looked at pictures of me from age 1 to 5 years old you would see a little black girl with 2 puff balls on each side of her head. My hair was thick. I remember sitting at the dinner table watching my mother, tears streaming down her face, crying to my aunt (who was also a hair dresser) on the phone begging her to perm my hair. My long, thick hair was quite challenging for my mother and she needed help. The last thing she said to my aunt before she finally conceded was, “either you perm it or I will.”

me before the big chop

Unwilling to let my mother ruin my hair, my aunt permed it. From that day on the creamy crack touched my roots about every seven weeks until I was 21 years old. I am not one of those women who can blame the perm for damaging their hair or who can make a perm the reason for why their hair has not met their shoulders because for me it’s not true.

Truth is my hair continued to stay thick and long. It was damaged over the years because of the perm but when I decided to go all natural and cut all my hair off, my hair was the longest it had ever been. I decided to go natural because I had finally reached a point of liberation and finally took control over my hair, my face and my image of myself.

Society has always been obsessed with black women and their hair. Don Imus was not the first man to demoralize black women and their hair. Scientist of the 1850s, North American Peter A. Browne, said that African slave’s hair was like wool so they must be of a different species. This history of the black race’s hair is not in just North America. It is not uncommon for the women of the Caribbean islands to deny their African ancestry and genetic influence, which is part of many countries’ past to be punished for physical evidence (such as hair) of African descent. With all the natural hair styles worn by all women of color, it is easy for one to think that this issue.  But the recent uproar about Olympic gold medalist Gabby Douglas’ hair shows that the dated issue remains prevalent in today’s society.

What makes this complexity of hair even more heart breaking is that society has convinced women of color these obscenities about their hair is true. They no longer have to criticize us about our self-image because we criticize one another.

Me after the big chop

I remember listening to India Arie’s song I am not my Hair, and wishing so badly that I felt that way. I always admired women with natural hair and the various ways they styled their hair. I always kept my hair straight and desired for it to touch my waist in length. After my junior year of college I felt the urge to cut it and be natural after dating someone who had done a lot for my self-image. I have never looked back.

I am not saying every woman of color wearing their hair in its natural state is the answer to societal acceptance, but sadly embracing our hair is one of the many hurdles woman of color have to go through to be comfortable with ourselves.

Mysteriously, your hair and every other piece of you is part of accepting your uniqueness and calling to show God’s genius of multiplicity.

Source: http://www.pasocsociety.org/bellinger.pdf