Never Touch A Black Woman’s Hair

guest blog post written by my husband, Ade Oshodi. 

“Never touch a black woman’s hair” so it is said, or as Dothraki handmaidens would say “It is known!” Hair to black folks, primarily Black Women has always been more than just hair for several reasons. Black hair makes personal, social, political, fashion, and many other statements. To the outside world, it’s been points of contention and fascination. Black Women were forced to cover their hair, and wear it straight for cooperate and social acceptance etc. In the 1960 and as of recently, within the last 10 years or so, there has been a reemergence of celebrating natural Black hair. In 2019 New York City  and 2020 California passed a law saying it’s illegal to discriminate against black hair in the workplace.

With all that history, beauty, and contention, it is understandable why the adage “never touch a black woman’s hair” has entered into our collective vocabularies and consciousness.

Black Hair In Cambodia

On our recent trip to Cambodia (March 2019) while at the temples of Angkor, four old ladies came over and began staring at Gina and speaking in her direction. They got closer and I could see the fascination with her hair begun to kick in. This is not the first time we encountered this level of fascination in South-East Asian countries. It happens often but it’s generally with our toddler, people randomly come over and take selfies with our child.  Additionally, they give her love taps, pick her up, offer fruits & candy, hugs, and most of the time they ignore us and do it without our permission. However, that’s a different story for a different time.

Anyways, as the ladies approached, it was clear that we did not speak their language nor did they speak ours. They got closer I could see that they wanted to talk about Gina’s hair. At that moment my protective-mind is telling me: “Gina’s is in no immediate danger.” My photographer’s mind is telling me: “bruh! put that camera to your eye.” My born in Guyana, grew up on the mean streets of NYC, black-husband mind is telling me: “aah shit! it’s about to go down, they are going to touch Gina’s hair.”

Understanding Black Hair in Relationship to Personal Space

As soon as they entered Gina’s personal space she turned and smiled, and the ladies came to a halt, a brief “Mexican standoff,” if you will. LOL!  Gina broke the tension by handing one of the ladies a loc of her hair, she started making twisting motions with her hands as to explain how locs are made. This interaction transpired for about 3 minutes, then one of the ladies compared her forearm to mine, as to show that we have similar complexion. She smiled and I smiled back at her.

In that moment what I saw was a bit of compassion from my wife, keeping the adage in mind “never touch a Black Woman’s hair,” she could have reacted differently. She understood that they possibly have never encountered someone like her. She  understood their curiosity and reacted with kindness and understanding.

In life and love, I am not impressed by grand gestures. For me, it’s about the little things. My wife’s act of compassion within that moment made me fall in love with her a little bit more.  #realtalk