There was a photo making the rounds on social media recently of Sarah Paulson of American Horror Story touching best selling artist Rihanna's faux-locs. While we do not know the context behind this photo, the look on Rihanna's face sparked many reactions on Twitter from other black women who could relate to the unwanted invasion of personal space.
Black people, especially women, have been saying it for decades. Recording artist Solange even made a song dedicated to it that was featured on her most recent album, A Seat at the Table, but I will say it once again for those in the back. Don't touch my (our) hair.
I know, I know. With our bountiful curls, flowing braids and locs, and intricate updos, a curiosity may be awakened. That is fine. But curiosity does not grant any person permission to reach out and place their hands on another person's head.
Throughout my natural hair journey I have tested out an array of hairstyles. Part of the beauty of black hair is its versatility. From tight curls, to bouncy loose waves, to tight high buns to long flowing box braids our options are endless. However, there is one downside to our versatility and it is the curiosity that drives some white people (sometimes even other PoC) to think our magical hair makes us human petting zoos.
If you or someone you know has ever felt inclined to, or actually has reached out and touched a black person's hair, I'm sure it didn't seem like a big deal for you at that time however it is a big deal for us. And to be honest, it should be for you as well.
For the black community, especially black women, the natural reaction of others to be fascinated with our hair is just another reminder of how racism of the past is still tied to us today. Part of the amazement with black hair is due the lack of representation for us. For years, we have been taught that our hair is too unruly, unclean, or unprofessional to be allowed out in it's natural state. So, when we begin letting our curls flow and embracing protective styles (twists, braids, puffs, etc.) it instills us with a sense of freedom and empowerment. Then, when someone places their hands in our curls without our consent it is not only a violation but also a reminder of how complicated the history of black hair in America is.
As if all of that wasn't enough to deal with, we also have the challenge of trying to navigate the situation of someone touching our hair without consent. Having your personal space violated will at best make you feel annoyed and at worst fill you with rage. Dealing with your own emotions is difficult enough but then you're also left to deal with the emotions of the person doing the touching. Many times the person doesn't mean any harm and thus they get offended at your lack of delight as they rake through your hair. I've had people touch my hair and then have the audacity to react with sadness and even anger when I explain why that's not okay.
Part of the issue is (surprise!!!) a matter of privilege. There has to be a certain level of unchecked privilege to feel that your curiosity is more important than consent and respecting personal space. Keep in mind that most white people don't have an issue with black people ignoring the sanctity of the personal bubble to touch a hair texture different from our own. (With the exception of children. Though the curiosity of a child and the entitlement of a fully grown adult should not be compared.) However almost every black woman I know has at minimum one story of their personal space being invaded sans consent for the sake of curing ones curiosity.
Long story short, next time you feel the impulse to touch a black woman's hair, do everyone involved a favor and don't. Take a moment to put that desire aside and remember that beneath that beautiful hair is a person who deserves to be treated as such.
