From Michelle Obama’s braids to Puerto Rico’s new law, we unpack the global issue of hair discrimination

By Fatou Ferraro Mboup

Updated Aug 7, 2024 at 03:29 PM

Reading time: 4 minutes

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Image by @michelleobama from IG

On 24 July 2024, Puerto Rico’s governor Pedro Pierluisi signed a groundbreaking law prohibiting discrimination against people wearing Afros, curls, locs, twists, braids, and other natural hairstyles. This historic move has been celebrated by advocates who have long sought explicit protections in the areas of work, housing, education, and public services.

But, before delving into this new bill and its potential impact, let’s understand what it really means to be discriminated against because of your hair.

According to LDF (Legal Defence Fund), hair discrimination is rooted in systemic racism and often helps maintain predominantly white spaces. Policies that perpetuate hair discrimination uphold white Anglo-Saxon Protestant cultural norms as the default standards to which everyone should conform. Hair and grooming policies that prohibit natural hairstyles—such as Afros, braids, Bantu knots, and locs—have been used to justify the exclusion of Black children from classrooms and the termination of Black adults from their jobs.

Without nationwide legal protections against hair discrimination, Black individuals are often forced to either risk facing repercussions at school or work for wearing their natural hair or invest significant time and money to conform to Eurocentric standards of professionalism and beauty.

“It’s a victory for generations to come,” remarked Welmo Romero Joseph, a community facilitator with the nonprofit Taller Salud, in an interview with The Independent.

As reported by CNN, Puerto Rican legislators held public hearings where numerous individuals shared their experiences of hair-based discrimination earlier this year.  This included job offers made contingent on haircuts. Puerto Rico is racially diverse, with over 1.6 million people out of its 3.2 million population identifying as multiracial and nearly 230,000 solely as Black, according to the US Census.

“Unfortunately, people identified as Black or Afro-descendant in Puerto Rico still face derogatory treatment, deprivation of opportunities, marginalisation, exclusion, and all kinds of discrimination,” the new law states.

It’s startling that in 2024, we still grapple with issues like discrimination and identity crises. Yet Puerto Rico isn’t alone. On the US mainland, over two dozen states have approved versions of the ‘Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair’ (CROWN) Act, which aims to ban race-based hair discrimination.

However, a report from the Economic Policy Institute (EPI) in March 2024 highlighted that not all states have amended their education codes to protect students, and some have exceptions to the CROWN Act. While a federal version passed the House in 2022, it reportedly failed in the Senate. Democratic lawmakers then reintroduced the legislation in May.

A community facilitator noted that the ruling sends a powerful message: “You can reach positions of power without having to change your identity,” they said. However, in the USfor instance, the Court of Appeals dismissed a discrimination lawsuit, ruling that an employer’s no-dreadlock policy in Alabama did not violate Title VII.

Remember the case of Darryl George? Where a Black high school student was suspended because his dreadlocks fell below his eyebrows and earlobes, allegedly violating the school’s dress code? Yes, you read that right.

George was suspended for 13 days because his hair was out of compliance when let down, according to a disciplinary notice issued by Barbers Hill High School in Mont Belvieu, Texas. This was his first day back at the school after spending a month in an off-site disciplinary program.

George, 18, has spent over 80 per cent of his junior year outside of his regular classroom. The teenager was initially removed from class in August after school officials claimed his braided locs fell below his eyebrows and earlobes, violating the district’s dress code. His family contends that the punishment violates the CROWN Act, which became law in Texas in September to prohibit race-based hair discrimination. However, the school argued that the CROWN Act does not address hair length.

Shockingly, according to the Houston Chronicle, Barbers Hill’s superintendent Greg Poole defended the school dress code—stating that “being an American requires conformity.”

George, expressing his frustration and pain, wrote: “I love my hair. It is sacred and it is my strength.” He continued: “All I want to do is go to school and be a model student. I am being harassed by school officials and treated like a dog.”

Former First Lady Michelle Obama has spoken candidly for the last few years about her experiences with natural hairstyles. In a number of interviews, the attorney and author have discussed the scrutiny she faced and her joy in now being able to wear braids without controversy.

The excitement among netizens when Obama finally wore protective styles for her Afro-textured hair was palpable. This moment of representation was not just a personal victory for the former First Lady but a significant symbol for the Black community.

The notion that anything deviating from Eurocentric norms is inherently un-American and therefore a “danger” to society that must be controlled reveals a deeper issue. This logic not only reinforces the “otherness” of Black Americans but also justifies the ongoing state-sanctioned violence against them.

This resonates deeply with my own experience. Growing up as a Black woman in a predominantly white and often racist society, I’ve seen how discrimination and cultural appropriation intertwine. Reflecting on the insights of modern Black critical theorists like Frantz Fanon, whose seminal work Black Skin, White Masks explores the intricate formation of Black identity under colonial rule, I see how we are frequently compelled to adopt a “mask” to navigate a society that marginalises us. Even today, as a Black woman, I continue to feel this pressure—underscoring the ongoing struggle for authentic representation and acceptance.

I remember my father telling me at a young age, “You already have a job. Your job is to be a Black woman in a white society. It’s not easy, but you have to learn from now.” I didn’t fully understand it then, but now I do.

Cultural appropriation adds another layer to this struggle. When white people wear braids, they must acknowledge the cultural significance and the history of resistance that these hairstyles represent. It’s vital to credit and respect the origins of these styles, and recognise our struggles and triumphs.

The law in Puerto Rico is a step toward justice and recognition, but the journey continues. Our hair, our identity, and our history deserve respect and understanding. It’s not just about a hairstyle, it’s about embracing our identity and the legacy we carry.