Hair is rooted in identity, not the scalp

I’ve always believed that we were born free and equal. After all, it’s in that pretty little list of our 30 human rights… right?

Then one day, I turned 12 and wanted to grow out my hair. My parents told me I’d look like a punk, and my grandparents said I’d look like a drug addict.

It wasn’t just about really long hair appearing unkempt. It was that my Black curly hair was seen as a problem.

It took me some time to grasp that—the fact that I was often being discriminated against for something I had no control over: my hair, my ethnicity—my identity.

I thought that was normal. My normal. And that’s really sad.

Hair discrimination is real.

I’ve had acquaintances at school come up and pet my head like I was some kind of zoo animal. That alone was irritating because once you touch a freshly made head of curly hair, the rebel strands pop out, and there’s nothing you can do about them for the rest of the day.

If you can relate, I’m sorry you went through that. If you can’t relate, I understand—it might sound like I’m overreacting to a curious person.

But that same person, after their little petting session, would say, “Your hair is so weird. It feels like cotton from a kid’s plushie” or “You kinda look like a sheep.”

There were a thousand different ways to say that, Jimmy… especially a nicer way.

Then one day, at 17, I decided to get braids for an event. As you’d expect, I had to defend my case like Harvey Specter to my family. I was granted a one-week pass.

And that really made me wonder—why does the world, myself included, associate certain hairstyles with rappers or basketball players rather than intellectuals or entrepreneurs?

The answer is simple. Successful Black people realize they have to play the game by its rules in order to win. They cannot break the status quo while trying to succeed within it. More about that later.

People face discrimination every day over their hair (among other aspects of their ethnicity).

The real question is: how do we fix this broken world so that my kids can choose the haircut they truly want?

If it’s ugly, it should be because it actually looks bad—not because it doesn’t fit a job description.

And by the way, we can all agree that appearing clean and tidy is imperative in the corporate world. No argument there.

The problem is that these expectations have been set by Western or Asian beauty standards—straight or slightly wavy hair. They don’t take into account our thick, curly hair, which is much harder to shape and retain moisture.

Also, if you didn’t know (I didn’t until I got braids and did some research), braids, locs, and similar styles are called protective hairstyles. They’re not just for aesthetics—the whole point is to protect our hair, which is more prone to breakage and harder to hydrate.

Yes, Black hair is a superpower—a genetic adaptation to our environment. It protects us better from the sun. But instead, it feels like a dead weight tied to our ankles.

So, to fix this, we need to change how the WHOLE world thinks about hair, right? Easy task… Just the biggest marketing campaign in history with the goal of rewiring people’s brains.

I wish I had a great plan to lay out, but I don’t. I’m at an impasse too.

However, the next step we can take at an individual level is realizing that it’s not enough to simply not be racist—we have to actively call out racist behaviors and stigmatization.

Of course, this requires educating ourselves. Understanding that minorities struggle to feel seen for who they truly are, and doing a better job of treating others with basic kindness.

It’s our job to try and fix the world one conversation at a time. No, you don’t have to redo the I Have a Dream speech, but it’s about standing up in a conversation and saying, “Hey, that wasn’t a nice thing to say about someone just because of how they look.”

And if you belong to a marginalized group and want to change the world, you have two choices in my opinion. You can go headfirst and defy the entire system—highly courageous, but its efficiency is debatable.

Or, the second choice (which I hope I’m doing correctly): play the game, unfair as it is, until you reach a position where you actually have the power to make lasting change.

I will play the game and help fix this world.

To committing to making a fairer world.