For the past two years, my teenage sons have been sporting locs, also known as dreadlocks, for those unfamiliar with the former term. [For those looking to educate themselves a bit more, which I hope is all of you, click here for a quick explanation about the hairstyle and its origins.] They keep the sides buzzed short, but the top just locks on its own.
If you’re new here and you’re wondering how my sons could have hair that naturally grows into dreadlocks, allow me to shed some light: My sons are biracial. I am white (obvi) and my husband is Black.
Being biracial, the texture of their hair is different than most. Just as their melanin deepened over time (at birth, both were very white, but not pink like Caucasian babies), their hair texture changed, too. Both boys were born with straight hair that eventually curled up.
Neither of them had a haircut until they were around two years old. We called my oldest Captain Crazy Hair for the first two years of his life because his hair was wild (and totally adorable, if you ask me). For the first few years, we only took the boys to the barbershop once a year to get a buzz cut before the summer heat. In between, we just let it grow naturally. They called the big, puffy hair their “winter hair” because it kept them warm.
Then, when the boys were in elementary school, those summer buzz cuts turned into summer mohawks, at their request. Some older (white) people frowned, but it was their choice. As a parent, you have to choose your battles, and hair was never one in which I was willing to engage. In my opinion, it’s just hair and it’ll always grow back.
In middle school, my oldest mostly kept his hair short, but not as tight as when he was younger. By the time my youngest reached middle school, he started developing locs and experimenting with dying the tips. First purple to match his school color (using temporary, wash-out dye) and then blonde, which was a much bigger decision because it was permanent color and done professionally, so it was both time-consuming and costly. But it was his money and his decision, so I supported it. Plus, it was just hair. Or so I thought.
Every year, in at least one class, my youngest had an issue with a fellow student who, sitting behind him in class, was so intrigued by his hair and its texture that he (or she) just had to touch it. Without permission and to the displeasure of my child. Every year. Teammates have made stereotype, racist “jokes,” and one teacher even called me to express her concern about his hairstyle possibly being a distraction from his true character. Seriously?!
Having a Black husband and biracial children does not make me an expert on Black culture, racism, discrimination, prejudice, or microaggressions. It also doesn’t give me a pass on making racist jokes, remaining silent about systemic racism, or upholding white privilege in any way. Far from it. But it does give me a bigger, deeper, more personal reason to learn more, adjust my beliefs and behaviors, and teach others to do the same.
As I’ve educated myself more and more through reading, listening, and watching, I’ve learned a lot and know that I have more to learn. But one thing I have come to realize is that for Black people (women especially, like my sister-in-law, mother-in-law, and nieces), hair isn’t “just hair.” It’s steeped in history, identity, spirituality, and power.
So while I prefer my boys’ hair shorter, and by that I just mean not covering their eyes because I like to see more of their handsome faces, I support however they want to wear their hair. After all, it’s just hair — rather, it’s their hair. And I’ve come to learn that it’s also their crown, representing both their current identity and their ancestry.
-LJDT
