Will Smith, Chris Rock and a Black Woman’s Hair

My writing career started in the world of celebrity journalism. But it never sat well with my conscience. I always felt a sense of unease commenting on the lives of actors and entertainers, as if their actions and reactions to the mundane were somehow imbued with a significance above and beyond the rest of us mere mortals. So, I segued out of entertainment journalism and never missed it.

I still don’t.

But, last night’s Oscar ceremony requires me to dip my toe back into Hollywood hijinks because “the celebrities” have collided with my zone of genius, the world of Black hair culture.

In a nutshell, for those who may not know what happened at the 94th annual Academy Awards last night, Will Smith got up on stage and slapped Chris Rock across the face after Rock made a joke about Jada Pinkett Smith’s short hair cut. Immediately afterwards, from his seat, Smith yelled at Rock to keep his wife’s name out of his mouth. It was painful to watch.

The Bullseye in Black Women’s Hair

In my professional, but unasked for opinion, Chris Rock should know better than to make a joke about a Black woman’s hair. One would think he would have learned his lesson after his 2009 documentary, Good Hair spiked the ire of thousands of Black women who felt Rock’s film painted Black women as both shallow and relentless in their pursuit of “good hair,” without providing any real context in the film for what is at stake emotionally, psychologically, and/or financially for Black women who choose not to conform to European beauty standards.

But Rock obviously did not learn that lesson. As evidenced by the joke he made at Jada Pinkett Smith’s expense.

As a Black ‘hairstorian’ who often writes about Black hair in American culture, I have lost track of the many instances where a Black woman’s hair is the punchline of a joke, or the unsolicited focus of public scrutiny.

From Gabby Douglass, to Blue Ivy Carter, to Pam Oliver, America loves to criticize and make fun of Black women’s hair. And it’s not just white people making jokes. It’s often other Black people shaming, scolding, or finding the funny in Black hair. And that’s not all we Black women have to contend with on a regular basis regarding our hair. We also have to worry about society’s gatekeepers deciding that our hairstyles are inappropriate for the workplace, the classroom, or any other public space.

Black Hair Is Sacred

Because we’ve been trained to be strong Black women. Because we know loving ourselves more, is the only way to get through America’s disrespect for our crowning glory. Because we are not afraid to boldly show off who we are. People think Black women cannot be wounded with a joke. Especially an innocent little joke about our hair. But what people don’t understand is that our hair is our crowning glory. It makes us who we are in a lot of ways. And even though India Arie gave us the theme song (I am Not My Hair), our identity is tangled up in our roots. And that’s not vanity. That’s history.

Before European contact, our West African Ancestors adored their hair. It was sacred. It was holy. It was the supreme marker of identity. It was always styled. It was always adorned. The hair told the rest of the world who you were. And that spiritual connection with our hair was not categorically destroyed on the trans-Atlantic voyage over here. It might look different today, but Black people still maintain a certain reverence for their hair and hairstyling rituals.

So, when the relationship with our hair is disrupted, due to illness, life circumstances, and/or forceful removal, it is more than our pride that feels the pain.

Alopecia is Not a Joke

Jada Pinkett Smith announced she was suffering from alopecia way back in 2018. On her show, Red Table Talk, she admitted how afraid she was when she first started losing handfuls of hair at a time. She described that time in her life as “terrifying.” Upon reflection, she realized that losing her hair was far better than losing her children or being stricken with a horrible disease, but still, it was hard for her not to mourn the loss of her healthy hair. She didn’t say she “was her hair,” but she said she had always been known for having hair that was so long and thick that people assumed it was fake. That statement shows how Pinkett Smith associated her hair with her identity. And that’s perfectly normal.

Many women with alopecia choose to wear wigs or hair pieces. Others wear scarves or hats. Last night at the Oscars, Jada Pinkett Smith went natural. She looked gorgeous and confident. On the outside. But nobody knows if she felt gorgeous and confident on the inside. Nobody knows what kind of courage she had to summon to walk out her front door and hope that people would notice her beauty and not her shorn head. We don’t know what she was thinking.  But we do know that her hairstyle was not a choice she made freely. It was the result of a mysterious autoimmune disorder that she has no control over. Alopecia is a disease, not a joke.

In addition to the loss Pinkett Smith faces in the wake of her alopecia diagnosis, we know women are always judged by their appearance. Always. (And Black women in America face additional scrutiny in that judgement, because our features don’t fit white beauty norms.). So, while there are some women who wear close-cropped hairstyles or shaved heads by choice, the ideal female beauty image includes hair on the head and lots of it. So, a woman dealing with alopecia, a forced arrival at baldness, a forced arrival at challenging societal norms for feminine beauty, requires support, care and understanding. Not cheap jokes at her expense.

I’m Not Saying He Should Have Slapped Him, But I Understand…

I’m not here to pass judgement on Will Smith’s actions. That’s not my ministry. I really am here only to talk about the hair piece. And what it comes down to is this; we Black women are as vulnerable as Achilles when it comes to our hair. It is our crowning glory and yet we can be felled with a single insult hurled at us by family, friend or foe. Nappy-headed. Picky-headed. Bad hair. Wooly hair. Bald-headed. Literally since the day we were dragged here in chains, the lexicon of insults specifically meant to denigrate Black hair has grown and been greatly utilized and weaponized. And the psychic wounds made by those hateful terms take generations to heal.

So, when a man sees his wife wounded in this way. Publicly. On television. The instinct to defend her, if he cares, if he hurts when she hurts, must be great. And I’m not saying that I agree with Will Smith’s actions, but to quote Chris Rock, from one of his most memorable comedy shows, ” I understand why he did it.”

Moral of the Story: Don’t Joke About Black Women’s Hair

So, the moral of the story, is simple. Don’t make a Black woman’s hair the punchline of your jokes. No matter how innocent you think the joke is, don’t do it. Given the weight of what Black women have to carry in the strands of their hair, it is inhumane to ask them to bare one more burden, so you can have a laugh.

* And just so it’s clear, I’m not advocating for or condoning violence in any with my statements above.