Q & A | 07/08/2009 12:00 am
A Conversation With Keneisha Sinclair: A White Woman Learns About Black Hairstyling

Editor’s note: Ann Hodgman is part of the wowOwow Executive Intern Program, where experienced editors learn a new skill from our younger, Internet-savvy staff.
Over the years, I’ve watched my friend Keneisha Sinclair’s hair go through endless transformations. One month, it would be relaxed. A couple of months later, it would be braided, with extensions. A couple of months after that, it would be a cloud of ringlets. Since my own white-person’s short hair has basically had the same blah, Mommy-ish layering for 30 years, I love watching Keneisha’s hair morph into a completely new look every time I see her.
Keneisha’s younger than most wowOwow.com readers — she just graduated from Yale — but she’s not too young to have plenty of strongly voiced opinions about female self-image, both black and white, in our culture. (In fact, her college thesis was about female body image.) So I figured she would be the perfect person to ask about black hair.
And I had a lot of questions. Transcribed, our conversation ran to 48 pages! Here are some of the (ahem) highlights.
| It sounds as though black girls' hair issues are like white girls' weight issues. |
ANN HODGMAN: When I was a little girl at sleepaway camp, the main concern of the black girls at camp was whether their hair was straight — not how it was styled. Do you feel as though "straightness" was the guiding aesthetic for black hair for a long time?
KENEISHA SINCLAIR: Yes, I think so. Especially for little girls, there’s this idea that their hair should be straight and long. But that’s just not the way black hair usually is.
ANN: When did you first start thinking about your hair?
KENEISHA: I didn’t really think about it for a long time because my mom always did my hair for me, and she was really good at it. So I don’t think I thought about it until I wanted to get it relaxed — maybe third grade.
ANN: You had your hair relaxed in third grade?
KENEISHA: Fourth grade. The rule was, I was supposed to wait until I was 13 — but I couldn’t wait anymore. Finally my mom said OK.
ANN: Why couldn’t you wait? Because white girls had straight hair?
KENEISHA: No — I wasn’t even thinking about it in those ways yet. Having your hair relaxed was what grownup black girls did, and when you’re ten you want to be very, very grown up. (That was the year that I put all my Barbies under my bed.) I wasn’t thinking about it like, "Oh, this is a beauty ideal because of white culture." Not until I was a little bit older did I start thinking about it in that way.
ANN: What’s involved in getting hair relaxed? "My people" don’t know anything about this.
KENEISHA: It’s a really, really frightening process, which is why my mom wanted me to wait. But parents even do this to kindergartners, which is awful.
ANN: Oh, my God. Do they still use lye, like in The Autobiography of Malcolm X?
KENEISHA: No, a relaxer is a little bit more humane at this point, but it’s still really frightening. You get this white creamy stuff, which is the relaxer, put on your head. It’s chemicals — some kind of terrible, low-PH chemicals. You sit there for as long as you can handle it, and then it gets washed out.
ANN: You mean you sit until you reach a certain level of pain?























154 Reader Comments (so far…) Sign In or Register to comment
People of all races make more out of the issue of "black hair" than need be. A relaxer is simply the opposite of a perm. A perm adds curls and a relaxer straightens curls…..simple. As for Keneisha’s explanation of the relaxer process, I think she needs to find a new hairstylist because relaxers "now" don’t have lye in them. If you are experiencing burning it has to do with abrasions on your scalp, or as she said, she chose to leave it on longer than recommended.
White women have straight hair because their hair follicles are saturated with oil (which is why when you don’t wash your hair it gets oilier and oilier) Black women have less oil in their hair follicles which is why the hair curls up. The drier the hair the curlier (nappy) which is why Black women have to apply hair oils and conditioners to keep the hair moist. For those old enough to remember the 70’s early 80’s when Jeri Curls were the rage and Blacks O’d on Jeri Curl oil.
I equate women who bemoan the fact their hair is "nappy or kinky" as having self identity issues. Choosing to wear your hair straight, in curls or dreads should be a personal choice based on what "you" think looks best on you. It shouldn’t be based on perceived societal norms. White women who pity blacks for having to deal with curly hair disgust me; just as much as Black women who allow themselves to feel inferior because of the texture of their hair do as well.
Belinda, I think part of the problem is that women of all races tend to overlook the fact that nature gave them predispositions to certain things—-whether curly, straight, dark, pale, short, tall or whatever. My hair has always been straight as a board, and no matter how expensive the perm, it will never be curly hair. I spent $$ and time trying to keep my hair a way I wasn’t born with. At 38, I finally embraced my straight hair and chose a style that is funky and makes me happy. I don’t believe I’ll ever go back to the pain, expense, and time consumption of perms.
I would rather women embrace what we are dealt naturally. I’ll always be short and curvy, therefore there are certain clothing styles that will never work for me. That’s okay. I can embrace what looks good on me, not what a tall thin woman would wear.
We just need to get over ourselves and listen to our bodies, not the magazines.
Belinda Joy
Excellent post!
I’m sorry Belinda, but your facts are completely wrong. I am a hair stylist that specializes in African-American hair, and I was trained at the Aveda Institute. Straight hair is straight because the hair strand has a circular cross-section which makes the hair shaft tubular and thus difficult to bend (like a drinking straw), and curly hair is flat like a ribbon (think of pulling gift-wrap ribbon tightly over a knife blade to make it curly for a birthday present). It has NOTHING to do with the oilyness of the hair.
And yes, ALL real relaxers for African-American hair have "lye" in them- the scientific term is sodium hydroxide- or a very closely related chemical; this is because in order to "straighten" the hair, you must break certain chemical bonds in the hair shaft with a very strong alkali, then when you neutralize the chemical reaction you style the hair straight and the chemical bonds re-form, allowing the hair to be styled straight fro then on. You mu re-style the hair (flatironing) every time you get it wet- the relaxer doesn’t straighten the hair so much as "allows" it to be straightened with every day tools and hair products.
To the lady with a 7yr old- don’t do it. Ever. Basically you are putting a chemical with a level 13-14 pH on your child’s head. I’ve seen little girls who have blisters and permanent bald patches and scars because their mothers bought into the "gentle children’s relaxer" packaging scam. And anyway, you will still have to flatiron their hair all the time- it only facilitates straightening, it doesn’t suddenly make the hair strands smooth.
And to the lady who said protein is bad for hair, protein is very GOOD for hair, especially wheat protein! In fact, that’s what Aveda’s shampoos and conditioners are known for- hydrolized wheat protein. Please, check your facts, folks- this is science and chemistry!
Growing up I heard a lot of stereotypes regarding hair from my own race. "Good" hair was hair that was long and thick and had a nice texture (more like whites). People wore relaxers and had their hair straightened (hard) to make it as straight as possible. Nobody wanted to have kinky hair. If you had "good" hair, people always commented on how long you’re hair was or how they wish they had your hair.
Today, I’m so glad that AA women are able to wear their hair naturally, straight, curly, long or short without being compared to some of those silly stereotypes with our own race!
Oh, the irony! I have straight, fine hair and would love to have curly hair. My daughter has inherited my hair (sadly) and feels the same. Meanwhile, all of her friends with curly or wavy use a flat iron to straighten theirs.
Hair issues go hand in hand with body image issues. No matter what you have, you want something else. If my ass was small, I’d want it bigger. If my hair was curly, I’d want it straight. The way to win this game is just be content in what you have.
It has, however, taken me 40-odd years, therapy and SSRIs to get to that contented spot. Just sayin’…..
I loved reading this article. I’m white, blue-eyed with straight blonde hair, and everyone in my small town looked a lot like me. My first year away at college my roommate was a lovely half Cherokee, half black young woman with exotic eyes and African-American hair. Luckily for me, she recognized that I was honestly curious about her hair rituals, and I tagged along to her straightening appointments and watched her bi-weekly shampooing/oiling processes. For someone who never did anything other than shampoo everyday, it was fascinating to see all of the attention she paid to her hair!
Years later, she told me that my interest made her view herself in a different light-maintenence became less of a chore for her when she realized not everyone had her hair versatility.
And we both were gym junkies with body image issues-trust me, anorexia doesn’t know the difference between black and white.