After accepting a position at one of the top law firms in the nation straight out of Harvard Law School, I felt major pressure to blend in with my white colleagues. I was working long hours and felt like I needed to be a younger version of the ultra beautiful, super smart, and sophisticated Claire Huxtable (from “The Cosby Show”) in order to truly be accepted by my white co-workers. Had I been practicing law for fifteen years and gained a strong reputation by this point, I might have felt more at ease with my decision to wear my hair natural. Unfortunately, there were only two black women in my department and I was one of them. I wasn’t exactly looking to complicate matters by putting on my dashiki and rocking Bantu knots to my first client meeting.
I knew I needed to let go and stop wearing a wig -- but after two years of waking up every morning and putting one on, I couldn’t stand the sight of myself without my synthetic tresses. Day in and day out, I would constantly make excuses to myself as to why I couldn’t wear my natural hair uncovered: My hair isn’t long enough. I don’t know what products to use. It only takes me five minutes to get ready in the morning. My colleagues would talk about me. My boyfriend would dump me. No one would ever find me attractive.

To make matters worse, I had gotten used to having long silky, straight hair -- which drew compliments daily. After getting a perm for twenty-plus years, I didn’t know the first thing about caring for my natural texture. I had no clue what products or styling tools to use or how to work with the tight, spongy curls sitting atop my head. Learning to do my hair was like teaching myself Swahili. I simply didn’t know where to begin.
Then there was the issue of seeing the reactions of my friends and co-workers who would now know that I had been wearing some kind of extensions for the past two years. While my hair had grown quite long, it wasn’t silky or straight. Instead, it looked dry and dull -- like week-old cotton candy, because I had kept it covered for so long.
In addition to my apprehension over my dramatic change in appearance and the styling difficulties that came along with it, for the first time in my life, I also had to deal with the daily challenge of seeking a new job after my boss informed me that my work fell quite short of meeting my department’s expectations. Needless to say, wearing a wig had taken a major toll on my self-esteem, and was affecting me on many levels, both personally and professionally.
Ironic, isn’t it? It turned out that wearing a wig had made very little difference after all -- and hadn’t spared me from being told that I didn’t have a future with my firm. After putting so much time and effort into appeasing my conservative white colleagues, it hadn’t truly helped or changed anything. In hindsight, I should have pulled a Jill Scott or Erykah Badu on my very first day at my law firm and spent the countless hours I had invested worrying about my appearance into focusing on my job performance. If only I had known and appreciated then how truly beautiful my own, natural hair is – it would have saved me so much heartache, expense, and wasted energy. I walked away from the firm with my pride wounded, however, much more importantly, with the realization that my own lack of confidence and esteem lay at the heart of my failure. This truth was much more painful than the simple disappointment of coming close to being fired.
After several months of working tirelessly to find a new position, God stepped in and blessed me with a new job, where I felt like I could not only be myself, but that I also had the potential to become a tremendous asset to the firm’s already outstanding talent. After gladly accepting the job, I was amazed at how comfortable I was with my decision to wear my hair natural on the very first day. Surprisingly enough, I was given more opportunities and received better mentoring than I did at my first firm. Due to the change in professional atmosphere, I was finally able to prove my talent and dedication to my work. This was a welcome change from my first law firm, where I fought so desperately to accommodate society’s unattainable beauty standard for black women (and not my own).
The more I loved and accepted my natural hair, the more people applauded my work and complimented me. This sense of confidence and pride in my appearance had a profound effect on every aspect of my world. I began to realize that in the past, the only thing truly preventing me from being happy and fulfilling every aspect of my dream was merely my conception of myself. Once I realized that I didn’t need to keep buying into the unhealthy and consuming expectation of appearance, my own job performance started to thrive. Today, I don’t think twice about wearing my hair natural and have finally come to fully appreciate the beauty and uniqueness of my kinky mane. When I put on my favorite suit and walk into a client meeting, I know it doesn’t matter how I wear my hair. My opinions will be respected and heard. My relationships with my colleagues, both black and white, have never been better. And, strangely enough, some of our most interesting conversations have been about the uniqueness and beauty of black hair.
My natural journey has taught me many lessons -- but most importantly, that we, as black woman, must embrace our unique differences and traits and no longer be ashamed of who we truly are. It has taken me close to twenty-five years to accept my hair for what it really is, but now, I can now finally say, THANK GOD I’M NATURAL!
Chris-Tia Donaldson, a Detroit native who currently lives in Chicago, is author of the book "Thank God I'm Natural," which comes highly recommended by stylists and beauty bloggers. She was recently interviewed on Chicago station WGN and will be holding a book signing on November 1 from 2 to 4 p.m. at the AfriWare book store in Oak Park, Illinois. For more information, check http://thankgodimnatural.wordpress.com/
20 comments:
Great interview!!!! Thank you so much for sharing your story, you are an inspiration to those who may still ashamed of their God given hair. BRAVO!!!!!
Her book is FAB!!...great interview!
Fantastic Interview! Thanks for sharing your story!
As a fellow lawyer from an ivy-league type school (cambridge university in the UK), I found this interview really interesting and I'll be ordering a copy of her book pronto! I went natural earlier this year and did have a few moments of wondering whether I should wear a wig (!) or flat-iron regularly for a new job but I decided to wear my hair natural on my 3rd interview and now I just wear roller sets for my new job and its going swimmingly.
wow - i think her sentiment chimes the silent thoughts of many relaxed women, i remember when i felt that way... no longer -- what a great story!
I'm so glad you posted this. I am in the same position that you're in, and this is inspiring.
Isn't that too much power to give to hair? Is the focus on her hair in relation to her story and career not too one dimensional? It is one thing if you are at a low point in our life due to a lot of things, low self confidence,lack of self "assuredness" that comes with knowing that you know and are competent etc.
I don't know but if that is her story, then more power to her.
This is cheesy but "i am not my hair"?
One.
OMG I was there at one point!! I'm getting her book, like right now lol!!
I love this interview!
Hello beautiful natural women,
I'm a 21 year old college guy but I read your blog from time to time. I recently decided to grow an afro so I come here sometimes to check on some tips. I'm a lazy guy though so I end up not using the tips haha I just let my hair do what it wants to do lol. I've been growing it out for about 10 months now. Afro/natural hair for me symbolizes so much pride in who you are. I also think it is funky, sexy and cool. You definitely stand out with a cool fro.
With regards to the article, I just want to say kudos to Chris-Tia. Contrary to public opinion, a lot of white people like natural hair on black people. Since I started growing out my hair, I have received more positive feedback from whites than from blacks as shocking as that sounds. At parties, meetings and in school, white people always compliment by "curls" and some of them even ask me if they can touch it. They really appreciate it.
Blacks on the other hand have not been too nice. A lot of black girls at my college often ridiculed my hair for being "nappy" and "strong" (whatever that means). My black guy friends say I look "untidy" and "primitive". I can barely count the number of black people who have complimented by hair.
It's really sad because it shows you how much self-hate exists within the black community and how hard we try to "conform"
So kudos to Chia-Tia and all the other beautiful natural women on this blog.
Take care!
Afrika!!
@afrika
hey! i really appreciated your comments and agree with your perspective on 'public opinion':
"a lot of white people like natural hair on black people."
i have found this to be true in my own experience. honestly, i never worried about my hair (perm, weave, funky color, even make up choices, etc.) as much as i worried about how id be perceived as a black person. it wasn't until i started visiting natural hair blogs that the thought even crossed my mind. but nonetheless, everyone has helped my confidence and helped me to continue to not worry about it.
There are parts of this excerpt that made me cringe and parts that made smile.
I do think though the conclusion is true and powerful - 'It doesn't matter how I wear my hair. My opinions will be respected and heard.'
I agree, I think that becoming comfortable about your hair leads the individual to stop placing emphasis on it. I said this before when I wrote that too many naturals are concerned about others (friends, family, employers, co-workers etc)accepting their hair when in truth there is only one person who needs to be happy with it. This is the person who has to care for it, sleep with it and deal with compliments as well as insults.
Wow. I didn't know people gave their hair THAT much power! I'm confused how someone could think their natural hair was more hideous than that wig in the picture. Thank GOD I've never felt like that in my life. I've had bad hair days, but never felt that down/bad about myself.
I think that a lot of us have the "it's just hair" thing down. But the truth is that a lot of women — WHATEVER THE RACE — don't.
I personally don't ascribe to the "it's just hair" philosophy. It could be because of my religious upbringing where I was taught that hair is "a woman's glory." i would like to think that i've outgrown this ideal, or somehow modernized. But the truth is that I haven't. And I think that's okay.
Even women like Chris-Tia who think of hair than more than "just hair" can still have a healthy relationship with it.
I think back to Chris Rock's movie, "Good Hair" where he traveled to India to meet women whose hair ultimately becomes American weave. These women sacrifice their hair at temples in a religious ceremony. This suggests, to me, that hair is a valuable thing, a treasured thing that they sacrifice.
If it's okay for Indian women to have this sacred relationship with their hair, why isn't it okay for black women to acknowledge the significance of her hair to their life?
I'm all about supporting the "it's just hair" mentality, and I profile a lot of "it's just hair" chicks. But I think there has to be respect and acknowledgment for those who don't feel that way.
Just my two cents.
Loved this excerpt! It made me laugh and ponder. I will be purchasing her book pronto!
A while ago, I blogged about the issues we hide in our hair and how the shame and the hiding effects us. This is such a great personal account of coming to grips with and overcoming those issues. What a beautiful, thoughtful, intelligent woman. Facing and embracing yourself and going out into the world the way God designed you is so truly powerful.
It's not "just hair" to me, but this article left me feeling... confused. She thinks her lack of success was because of the wig she was wearing? I just feel like I"m missing so much of this story.
Or maybe that's it. She REALLY did focus so much on a wig that she failed at her job and other areas in her life.
Huh?
I feel so sad for her if that's the story. Because I fear that if one person comes up to her and says "your natural hair is ugly" she's going to have a nervous break down or something.
And I actually didn't appreciate her perpetuating stereotypes of her own.
"I wasn’t exactly looking to complicate matters by putting on my dashiki and rocking Bantu knots to my first client meeting."
Really? Did she really type that?
On a positive note, she looks so beautiful in that first picture. Love the curls. Was that a rod set?
What an inspiring story. Kudos to her. I'm in by so I won't be at the signing but I will be buying the book
I hear the refrain over and over about us making choices about our hair based on what we thought someone white would think. Here's my question. If you have chosen not to go natural out of fear that your hair won't be accepted by whites, what do you base the fear on? Did any white person ever say anything to you to imply that your natural hair would be unacceptable or, in truth, did you learn everything about what is/is not acceptable about your natural hair from another black woman? Just something to ponder. Can we really blame anyone else but ourselves for not accepting what grow out of our scalps?
On the one hand hair is most certainly just hair but on the other, it is part of who you are and is an outward reflection of your culture and lineage. There is a story to be told in teh styles we wear, from bantu knots to cornrows.
I'm not sure how to take this interview, in my opinion, the author was lost and it didn't have as much to do with hair as it does with her self confidence and esteem as a black woman in a particularly/traditionally white dominated profession.
Her honesty is refreshing. Sometimes in life there are many minor and major things folks will obsess about. That's how it is. The best thing is to eventually get over it.
I think I'm going to try and copy her hairstyle. It looks really good.
I just heard a horrible story about two young women at my Ivy League law school chopping off their beautiful dreads before interviewing season and perming their hair because they feared that, in light of the recession, they needed to have perms to get jobs. Meanwhile, I'm in day 4 of my job at one of the top five law firms in the country with my dreads, and the compliments are coming left and right from my mostly white colleagues.
I'm so inspired by Chris-Tia (I'm from Detroit, too!), and can't wait until other black women in the legal profession stop playing themselves...
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