Recognizing the beauty in what is ‘still so taboo’
Toronto author on quest to debunk notion that African hair is ‘ghetto’ or ‘unprofessional’
Ndija Anderson-Yantha has always been fascinated by the attention — both disdain and admiration — her thick, frizzy and sometimes out-of-control hair has gotten since she was a little girl.
In fact, the Toronto woman was so interested in the history and evolution of African hairstyles that she got a university fellowship to travel to Australia, Japan, India, Egypt, Senegal, Brazil and Jamaica to get to the roots of the hair story.
“Most people look at hair as being just hair, but in various cultures, one’s hair is meaningful and almost sacred,” said Anderson-Yantha, 33, a lawyer by training, who in February released a children’s book with illustrations, What Are We Gonna Do About Black Girls’ Hair?. “Hair is a big deal and we shouldn’t trivialize it.”
Although more and more black women and girls are trading their relaxers and flat irons in for shea butter and wide-toothed combs, Anderson-Yantha said the decision to wear one’s African hair naturally is still a “knotty” one.
“Black hair is still so taboo. Natural hairstyles are often seen as ugly, unprofessional, ghetto, urban and inappropriate in the workplace and classroom,” said Anderson-Yantha, whose father is Jamaican and mother is Guyanese.
“The media depicts prison life with people in cornrows and (equates) it with criminality. It is saying something.”
Anderson-Yantha’s mother taught her how to braid when she was 4, and both she and her younger sister, Sarah, were not allowed to flatiron their hair until they turned 12, or use chemicals for straightening until age 16.
Hence, she said she has always worn her natural hair and gotten attention from people who either marvel at it or dislike it.
While studying for her undergraduate degree at Spelman College, a historically black liberal arts college for women in Atlanta, Ga., Anderson-Yantha attended training to prepare for an internship program and was shocked by the advice she was given.
“The trainer, who was also a person of colour, said to us, if you would like to be taken seriously, you should not wear your natural Afro hairstyle,” she recalled. “You have to keep a conservative look or it would cost you the opportunity of a job.”
That was about the time when the natural hair movement began to take off, when health-conscious black women started questioning the chemicals they used to tame their hair, said Anderson-Yantha, who writes a blog, thenaturalhairadvoca- te.com, which looks at the politics of black hair.
In her senior year at Spelman, she applied and was selected for the Thomas J. Watson Fellowship with her hair project.
Her children’s book tells the story of African hair through the eyes of a little girl named Zuri, which means beautiful in Swahili, who has superbig, curly and frizzy hair.
“Sometimes my hair likes to do its own thing, and it gets all tangly, so when my mother used to comb it, I’d scream,” Zuri said in the beginning of the story, before taking readers through the history of dif- ferent kinds of braiding, from thick plaits to twists, crimps, Afros and threads.
Zuri traces the origin of hair braiding to ancient Egyptians through archeological artwork found in tombs showing wigs, extensions, braids and twists worn by people thousands of years ago. She also traces the roots of corn rows to black slaves in the U.S. who had to keep their hair to the liking of their masters.
The book also demonstrates how different braiding styles are used in various cultures to symbolize such things as religious beliefs, social status and even a person’s family name.
Growing up, Anderson-Yantha said she wore all the different hairstyles and is proud of the versatility of her hair.
“I wrote this book for all the little black girls so they know nothing is wrong with their hair and they are so beautiful,” she noted. “For readers from other backgrounds, I would like them to understand the history of black hair and (I hope) the book would change their perspectives on our hair, on us.”
And Zuri’s advice for other black girls when they are asked what to do with that hair? “You can proudly say to them, Anything I want!”
“Most people look at hair as being just hair, but in various cultures, one’s hair is meaningful and almost sacred.” NDIJA ANDERSON-YANTHA LAWYER AND CHILDREN’S BOOK AUTHOR