The Lady With the Hair
July 3 is National CROWN Day. In case you didn’t know, the CROWN stands for Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair. On July 3, 2019, the CROWN Act was signed in California and protects Black women (and other women with textured hair) from discrimination based on the texture and style of their hair.
If this leaves you scratching your own head, it’s likely because you’re not a Black woman. Meanwhile, there are several sisters reading this and nodding their heads adorned with a twistout, braids, twists, locs, silk press, sew-ins, and more. There is a stigma against hair that is not straight.
I’m Not New to This
More than 20 years ago, I completed a content analysis about European standards of beauty in advertising. I continue to anchor my research in Black womanhood and stereotypes. My hair, gender, and race have always been central to my identity. I remember getting my hair straightened at the stove and holding my ear so it wouldn’t get burned. If I scratched my head before getting my relaxer, I knew I’d be in for a sore scalp. I learned how to wrap my hair in high school and by the time I graduated college in 2004, I’d perfected at home-relaxers and roller sets.
Around 2016, I relaxed my hair for the last time and began to fully embrace my naturally curly texture. I also stopped caring about what my white female co-workers would say. Besides, many of them dyed their hair on a regular basis. It was OBVIOUS. So, if they could alter their hair, why would I feel uncomfortable rocking my natural texture?
I’ve shown up to job interviews with twists, given keynote speeches with a wash-and-go, and have given lectures with an afro puff. Every few years, I gleefully give my beautician free range to chop as much as she wants. Eight inches on the floor, and I get to start over.

I have never been oblivious to stigmas connected to textured hair and Black women. I share Audre Lorde’s “Is Your Hair Still Political” with my students and ask them to reflect on their own experiences. My hair is my crown, and it is glorious.
Twice as Hard, Half as Much
And so is Stacey Abrams. I voted for her twice and believe in her vision for not only Georgia but democracy. She is a Spelman and Yale-educated woman. Activism is in her blood, and she believes in equity and equality. Abrams has served her state and continues to set incredible examples of what it means to be a public servant, advocate, and leader.




I recently volunteered at a Juneteenth festival in Marietta. I was there with the Cobb Democrats and sharing information about candidates running for office. We had plenty of literature, yard signs, and positive attitudes. It was a great day.
Until it wasn’t.
An older white man (OWM) came over and began to talk about how he “probably wasn’t” going to vote for Rick Jackson.
OWM is having a hard time deciding about this guy …
He starts talking about the Democratic gubernatorial nominee, Keisha Lance Bottoms (former Atlanta mayor, lawyer, leader, public servant, highly qualified wherever she goes). He begins comparing her to “the lady with the hair.”
- OWM: “You know … the lady with the hair.”
- Us (four women, 3 of us Black): confused looks
- My brain: I know he is not talking about Stacey Abrams.
- OWM: Continues to try and remember her name, keeps talking about her hair
- My mouth: Do you mean Stacey Abrams?!?
- OWM: Yeah, that’s her!
Then he notices my facial expression … and my immaculate twistout.
Him: nervously laughing … “I mean, your hair is fine.”
Me: “AND SO IS STACEY ABRAMS’ HAIR.”
Then he glances at a picture of Keisha Lance Bottoms on her campaign material and says, “See, her hair is more professional.” He then recaps his decisions for the past two gubernatorial elections.
- “Yeah, I didn’t like her hair, so that’s why I didn’t vote for her.”
- “I voted for Kemp because he was likeable.”
- My edit: “I’m racist-sexist garbage, and I’ll vote for a racist before I’ll vote for a Black woman with hair I don’t approve.”
For context, here is a commercial from Kemp’s gubernatorial campaign:
Chile.
Two white men. Blatant racism. Basic qualifications.
Two Black women. Proven leaders with law degrees and a strong history of public service.
Stacey Abrams would have made an incredible governor. Keisha Lance Bottoms will be an incredible governor.
But … for OWM, hair texture (read: gendered racism) is his litmus text for his ballot.
Our Crowns Are Here to Stay
Hair should never trump qualifications (see what I did there), but this is the experience of many Black women. Nevertheless, we persist. I look forward to celebrating the future Gov. Bottoms – the daughter of a beautician – to lead Georgia to the next level. I’ll probably be rocking my perfect twists. Or maybe a twistout. Or maybe a silk press, wash-and-go, rod set … the possibilities are endless. And that’s the beauty of our crowns.
