CHAPTER 10
A well-intentioned European American teacher presented Nappy Hair, by Carolivia Herron, to her third grade class of African American and Latino children. The children enjoyed this story so much that the teacher, Ruth Sherman, made black-and-white copies of the book for the children to bring home. The dissemination of this book beyond the classroom enraged some of the parent community (only one of whom had a child in the class). This group perceived the book illustrations as racist practices on the part of the teacher, the illustrator, and the author. A group of parents came to school en masse to protest. Most of the protesters had not read the book. The teacher, intimidated by what appeared to be the potentially violent anger of the crowd, left the building and did not return, not even to say “good-bye” to the children.
Ms. Sherman did know her children, in terms of their pleasure in the book, but she did not consider that these children had lives and cultural experiences outside the classroom. Children bring multiple identities and contexts with them to the classroom. The controversy surrounding this book demonstrates that with social issues, it is not only what we read, but also how we read and what we do with what we read. Reading is a sociopolitical activity, and the response to how this book was presented to a group of children clearly bears this out. The book separated from this incident, merits analysis and critique. But it is likely that the controversy surrounding its presentation by this one teacher will be always associated with this text.
The format of the book, a “call-and-response,” is familiar to those readers who participate in church services or storytelling sessions that include these language practices in their gatherings. In African American churches, the preacher calls (says a line in a prayer or sermon), and one or more people in the congregation respond spontaneously by repeating a line or a word, or say “Amen,” or an improvisational contribution.
Call-and-response relates to West African conventions that express a strong sense of community and spontaneity. It became a means of unifying slaves who were not allowed to meet in large groups, except in church. The call-and-response, as well as other musical forms, was a way of challenging the suppression of communication among the slaves. Sometimes there were subtle messages interwoven into the music conveying news of runaways and potential uprisings as well as information about everyday life. Some Native American groups use this technique in their storytelling. It is a popular strategy with many contemporary storytellers to engage the audience.
Not every African American child will be familiar with this ritual of call-and-response, and it may be distancing or confusing for some young readers to be plunged into this format without some explanation, preparation, or demonstration on the part of the adult. According to Adaeze Eneaweci and Opal Moore (1999–2000), Herron herself is the young protagonist in the story. Her uncle engaged in this type of narrative at a family picnic when Herron was a young child. The incident was captured on tape, and Herron wrote the story for inclusion as a chapter in a book for adults. An editor recommended that it be published as a children’s book, and so it was.
The text describes a family gathering at which Uncle Mordecai waxes eloquent in his teasing Brenda about her nappy hair. But in the process he also conveys a sense of history and oppression, which forms a subtext to the celebration of Brenda’s decidedly thick and unruly hair. Throughout, the call-and-response format makes demands on the reader. Perhaps a group could participate in the reading of the text, thus making the book a libretto of sorts, and the readers a choral ensemble. The book is a departure from the conventional, and takes some sophistication and knowledge to handle well. It might be an excellent text for a class of future teachers to discuss. It is challenging for any group of adults to grapple with; it merits contemplation.
There is certainly no doubt about the authenticity of the book: Few people question the sincerity of the author’s wish to impart a sense of African American culture. It is difficult to predict how an audience will respond to this attempt. One reader sent a critique to Amazon.com protesting:
My 10-year-old daughter hated the book on sight. She … announced that the book did not make her feel better about her own hair. It made her feel terrible. As an adult, I loved the simple story and the historical context for discussing, yes, nappy hair …. To an adult who has finally come to terms with the immutable facts of her slave heritage, this book is beautiful in its language, its illustrations and its story. To a child, it is an embarrassing, deeply personal, and sometimes overwhelming topic. While the intended purpose of the book is to raise self-esteem, it is unsuccessful because it does not communicate to our youth in a way that he or she is able to accept the message. As a mother and a teacher, I am saddened that my daughter is not ready to read this book. Maybe she will be when she reaches an adult acceptance of herself. This book is to be appreciated more by its adult readers than by its young readers.
(www.amazon.com/Nappy-Dragonfly-Books-Carolivia-Herron/dp/0679894454)
This, of course, is one person’s point of view. Another reader offered another perspective:
This book gave me one of the best memories with my niece and nephew. It is very hard to find a book that reaches an eleven-year-old and a five-year-old. As they were having a picnic style dinner I was reading them this book. They enjoyed themselves so much. Laughter was all over the place. There were even shouts of LORD give me nappy hair! It let my little people know that nappy hair is perfect in God’s eyes.
(www.amazon.com/review/product/0679894454/ref=cm_cr_pr_link_2?%5Fencoding=UTF8&pageNumber=2&sortBy=bySubmissionDateDescending)
The power base in this story resides in the male god: “this is my world, and this chile … is going to have the nappiest hair in the world.” Nappy hair is a God given feature of Black people, and it is here to stay, not without its problems. Brenda appears content with her hair; it is the angels and family who are troubled by it. The family demonstrates that her hair will not respond to processing and straightening, which are impositions of the White world. Brenda’s hair represents independence, nonconformity, and endurance of her African roots.
This book represents the tension in the African American community. The child represents those who have not succumbed to the White standard of beauty. The community has groomed their hair so that it is “tamed.” Brenda is free from such definitions of beauty.
For many African Americans, picture books depicting distinctively Afrocentric hairstyles demonstrate a resistance to conform to White standards of beauty. On the other hand, some books reflect the stereotype of African Americans who want to conform to White standards of beauty and endure chemical treatments, extensions and other tortures to make their hair less “nappy,” considering their African hair to be “bad” or “inferior.” Consideration of these factors makes the book something that will be approached differently by caring adults. The controversy also centers around how the messages conveyed by the words and images are interpreted by the audience.
The lines are clearly drawn: for some people the book is affirming and helpful; for others it is a reminder of the pain that our society inflicts on children who are different from the established standard. Cornell West (1990) addresses the dilemma of “double consciousness” as being caught “between a quest for White approval and acceptance and an endeavor to overcome the internalized association of Blackness with inferiority” (West, 1990: 28). This book, seemingly aimed at children, brings out this dilemma. Hair is an enduring cultural theme in children’s literature.
The Cross-cultural Politics of Hair
For Samson in the Old Testament, hair was the entire source of his strength. Ask a Canadian and American audience what a princess looks like, and they will almost unanimously and immediately respond, “She has blonde hair.” Rapunzel’s hair was her asset and her attraction for the Prince, as well as a means of access to the Wicked Witch. When African slaves were transported from Africa, the slave traders shaved their heads. According to Ayana D. Byrd and Lori L. Tharps (2001)
[T]he shaved head was the first step the Europeans took to erase the slave’s culture and alter the relationship between the African and his or her hair … arriving without their signature hairstyles, Mandigos, Fulanis, Ibos, and Ashantis entered the New World, just as the Europeans intended, like anonymous chattel.
(Byrd & Tharps, 2001: 10–11)
When Native Americans were placed in boarding schools, in order to deculturalize and assimilate them, in addition to their clothes being removed and changed, their hair was cut. When people join a religious group, or the army, there is often a ritual haircutting that symbolizes a giving-up of one’s identity and secular involvement. Loss of hair can be an emotional hardship for aging adults, as is graying hair to some adults. An elaborate coiffure is, for some people, a sign of affluence and high social status. Certainly adolescents demonstrate their rebellion when they color and style their hair in what adults perceive to be an affront to social norms.
While the scholarly book, Hair: Its Power and Meaning in Asian Cultures, edited by Alf Hiltebeitel and Barbara D. Miller (1998), explores many aspects of hair in Asian cultures, it also highlights the political, social, religious, gender, and sexual implications of hair. The ubiquitous cultural theme of hair in children’s books illuminates how these social meanings are imbedded in the text and illustrations, emerging from particular historical and sociopolitical conditions.
Hair There and Everywhere by Karin Luisa Badt is a nonfiction children’s book that includes and informs a wide audience. It uses the theme of hair as a unifier and catalogs hair diversity across cultures and time, without establishing a hierarchy of value. The table of contents includes “Combing Through Cultures,” which displays hairstyles specific to girls in the Black Forest region of Germany, Aymara Indian women of Bolivia, Hmong women in Guizhou Province of China, Yoruban women from Lagos, Nigeria, and discusses other groups’ historic styles and contemporary fashion. The photos are respectful, beautiful, and show great variety.
Another section of this informative, aesthetically pleasing, and sometimes astounding book is titled “Your Part in Society.” The text explains that hair can “say something about your social status” (n.p.). Examples are given for historic Sumeria (Iraq), France, Japan, and Rome. Although the book contains no contemporary illustrations of this function of hair, a lively discussion could certainly ensue if young readers were invited to add to this page with today’s examples. It must be noted that the book does address similar issues in the section on “Political Hair.” Historical examples are included, such as the Manchus in the Qing Dynasty in China forcefully imposing a specific queue hairstyle on the male Han Chinese as a symbol of Han Chinese submission to Manchu rule, and the hairstyle called ogun pari that Nigerian women wore in 1970 to commemorate the end of a civil war. Two pages portray youthful protest in the United States and England in the 1960s and 1970s. Again, readers might be invited to collect and comment on photographs from newspapers and magazines reflecting today’s political hairstyles. The book is successful in its cross-cultural examination: more than 50 different groups are highlighted in pictures and text. In no instance is a group singled out as “quaint” or “exotic.” The author’s research seems thorough and scholarly. The ending of the book considers how cultures influence each other and how some styles become international. Hair becomes a symbol of unity as well as difference.
Another book that includes a worldview of hair is Hats off to Hair by Virginia Kroll. This is a gallery of hairstyles for young boys and girls with no qualitative or judgmental comments. At the end of the book, the author places the styles in their historical as well as cultural contexts. The children are racially and culturally diverse, and the hairstyles are realistic rather than fanciful. The book reminds us that hair differences also exist within cultures. While this book has no plot or specific characters to whom to relate, it is useful as a catalog and affirmation of difference.
Sandra Cisneros also features different hair types in Hairs/Pelitos: A story in English and Spanish from The House on Mango Street. (A picture book version of this short story exists.) The characters are within a close Mexican-American family that is described in affectionate and affirming terms. Hair in this short piece is endearing and special to each of the family members. At no point does the author imply either stereotyping or valuing one kind of hair over another, although it demonstrates that hair can also be a commodity or asset. The acceptance of each family member and the strength of the loving family permeates both the text and the illustrations.
Erandi’s Braids, by Antonio Hernández Madrigal, is about a Mexican child in the 1940s who endures her braids being cut off so that she can earn money for her family to buy a new fishing net. Hair in those days was bought by merchants for use in the production of wigs, eyelashes, and fine embroidery. In this story hair is a vehicle, a commodity for helping the family through rough economic times, and the child, though fearful of the experience, and wanting her mother to protect her, is, in the end, glad she made the sacrifice.
The story is reminiscent of the O. Henry short story, The Gift of the Magi, in which the young newlyweds sacrifice their most valued possessions in order to please the other. For the young bride, it is her hair, which she has cut and sold in order to afford to buy her beloved husband a chain for his treasured gold watch. He, in the meantime, has pawned his watch in order to purchase ornamental clips for her long, luxuriant hair. Jo, in Little Women, is another character who sells her hair (her only claim to beauty) in order to have the money to buy a ticket for her mother to visit the father of the family who lies ill in a military hospital. In these stories, readers appreciate the extreme sacrifice it takes to have one’s hair cut, even though the characters acknowledge that it will grow back. The psychological ramifications are strongly conveyed here.
Hair is not always an ornament or an asset. Anne, in the series of stories by L.M. Montgomery set in Canada’s Prince Edward Island, has flaming red hair that is the scourge of her existence. She is automatically assumed to be bad tempered and impatient because of her red hair. In Anne of Green Gables, she internalizes this bias, and tries to dye her hair so that she will no longer be viewed negatively. Unfortunately the dye she uses turns her hair green and she is forced to suffer even more reprimands and character assassinations.
For many African Americans, picture books depicting distinctively Afro-centric hairstyles demonstrate a resistance to White standards of beauty. As Michelle H. Martin points out in her The Horn Book Magazine article of May 1999, “Regardless of what was taken from African Americans, this vestige of Africa, this hair … endures (287).”
Books reflect and are a product of culture. Culture is a complex social construct. It is not static, isolated, permanent, inflexible, or bounded by hard perimeters. It is relentlessly changing in response to historical, social, economic, political, geographical, intra- and intercultural factors. Power relations play key roles in this dynamism. Critical (analyzing how power works) and multicultural (considering specific historical and sociopolitical factors) analysis captures how culture is constructed, thus investigating how cultural themes emerge and circulate from particular circumstances. Young readers need to learn to analyze what they read in the light of historical and sociopolitical considerations.
In this chapter, we explore the cultural meanings and ideologies (i.e., worldviews) associated with African-American hair by analyzing a number of children’s books written and/or illustrated by “insiders” as well as “outsiders” and published from 1978 to 2002. We particularly explore how language use (i.e., text) and illustrations shape how the story gets told. We examine issues of cultural affirmation and reclamation, and cultural misrepresentation.
Why We Chose Hair
We chose the theme of hair because there are so many social and political meanings surrounding this theme; and, because it is not just an African American issue, it is a historical issue across race and class lines. Certainly, the controversy around Carolivia Herron’s Nappy Hair greatly contributed to our awareness of this cultural theme. But it must nevertheless be acknowledged as a deeply significant issue in African American culture. It also turns out that this theme appears frequently in literature for children. We thought it was important to examine this cultural theme, even though we are not “insiders” in the African American community. In response to critics who doubt that people outside a particular culture can represent that culture through art and print because it is not their blood heritage, “I suggest that blood be bigger than what we’re born with, that blood keep growing and growing as we live; otherwise how will we become true citizens of the world?” says Naomi Shihab Nye (1995: 7).
We consider ourselves to be allies, and we want to tackle the daunting task of writing about a sociopolitical theme with respect and with a critical multicultural lens. Our analyses challenge discourses surrounding this issue and uncover how the power relations of race, class and gender construct this cultural theme. We also believe that, as allies and outsiders, we can provide a distance that helps to clarify the issues, adding our voices to the mix of insiders with many disparate views. Since there are always more differences within a group than there are among groups, it is our conviction that by examining the issue with a critical multicultural lens, we will illuminate the process that enables readers to take control over the texts.
Difficult as it may be, it is necessary to face history, current society, and ourselves if we wish to change the future. It is also important for allies to speak out and to express solidarity over historical and/or sociopolitical issues. As Toni Morrison (1992) maintains in Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination, “The contemplation of this black presence is central to any understanding of our national literature and should not be permitted to hover at the margins of the literary imagination” (Morrison, 1992: 5).
All too often, artful language and illustrations mask underlying messages that may be hurtful to a significant population of children. Unwitting readers internalize stereotyping, discrimination, and racism. Even more often, the preponderance of literature provides access and visibility to an already privileged majority, and affirms biased messages about and to children both outside and inside the circle of privilege.
Critical multicultural reading is a sociopolitical activity. The dialogue is shaped by each context involving particular relations and structures of power, values, beliefs, goals, and economic and political conditions. A child raised in circumstances of extreme rural poverty will use different lenses to make sense of a text than will a child from a suburban middle-class environment. Stories are imbedded with ideologies. The more astute we as readers can be and the greater our repertoires of understandings, the better we can be at uncovering the social and political implications of each work of literature.
Methodology
We located 18 books published over a span of more than twenty years (1978 to 2002), reflecting the cultural theme of hair, either directly in the text, through the illustrations, or a combination of both. The characters in these books, for the most part, are African American. Although we will deal with books about hair in other populations, our focus will be particularly on the books conveying the theme of hair connected to the African-American experience in order to provide a comprehensive model for examining cultural themes in children’s books.
We organized the text collection in chronological order, keeping in mind Mitzi Myers’ (1988) question: What cultural statement is this text responding to? Books are responses to historical and sociopolitical circumstances as well as other texts. We read and reread these texts against each other and secondary sources about children’s literature and this cultural theme. We were careful to gather multiple perspectives from within and outside the African American culture, in order to deconstruct and reconstruct our understanding of this cultural theme. We believe that multiple viewpoints and texts are necessary for constructing an understanding of the past and present conditions of any cultural theme.
We engaged in dialogue with children, other adults, and people from varying backgrounds and expertise. We looked at this theme over time, recognizing, as McGillis (1996) points out, that all reading is political, and that critical analysis helps to name the ideological positions of the text and reader. He further states that literary texts are mirrors of historical and sociopolitical ideologies. Several current books, most written by contemporary African-American authors, especially affirm and support the special and beautiful qualities of hair in the African heritage, while some reflect dominant ideologies about hair beauty.
Hair as a Cultural Theme in Children’s Literature
Honey I Love and Other Love Poems, by Eloise Greenfield, illustrated by Leo and Diane Dillon, is a collection of sixteen poems told from the point of view of a young child as she engages in and comments on her everyday life. The illustrations depict the young protagonist in a natural Afro as well as elaborate and ornamental hairstyles. The Dillons’ illustrations are black, white, and gray pencil-on-paper drawings of the main character and her hair. Hair dominates each page, as if it is another character in the story, a subtext, almost a dream, beyond the activity featured in the illustrations. Hair is an adornment, a fantasy. The softness contributes to the fantasy and the aesthetic. The illustrations are imbued with emotion.
Interestingly, there is a separate volume of the title poem alone, made into a picture book with illustrations by Jan Spivey Gilchrist. This version targets the preschool reader. The images show the main character, a young girl, engaged in everyday activities with different family members and friends. Her hair is significantly beautiful, and is consistently realistic. Her hairstyle is less imaginative than in the earlier text, but it is clearly a statement about her self-worth and attractiveness. The illustrations in this volume are in vibrant color. The young protagonist’s joy in herself emanates from the combination of text and image. Although hair is noticeable in almost every frame, it complements the text rather than forming a separate entity.
The Dillon edition is contemplative and reflective and the Gilchrist illustrations are bouncy and lively. It is noteworthy that unlike the other books we are critiquing here, in neither of the two versions of Honey I Love is there a statement in the text about the beauty of African American hair. The pictures portray hair so aesthetically as to provide this undeniable conclusion.
Cornrows, written by Camille Yarbrough and illustrated by Carole Byard, provides a context for the cornrow hairstyle by linking it to African societies. Cornrows entail sectioning of hair and braiding it tightly against the scalp, similar to the planting of rows of corn. The book provides information about such cultural artifacts as royal stools, sculpture, and ritual masquerade. It tells not only of hair design as symbols, but also includes the fact that the people across Africa, from Egypt to Swaziland, Senegal, and Somalia wore braids. The number and pattern of braids indicated information about the clan, their village, societal position, and even, in some cases, their religion.
In the process of braiding her great-grandchildren’s hair, the great grandmother, assisted by the children’s mother, communicates African American history from pre-slavery times to contemporary times. The illustrations demonstrate several varieties of “cornrowed” hairstyles. The rhythm of the text combined with the images in many shades of black, gray and white provides a strong foundation, affirming African American identity. This is a proactive book focusing on historical fact. People and customs are respected. This is a family that demonstrates affection and mutual admiration for each of its members. Hair is a vehicle for acquiring knowledge and affirming identity.
In Nancy Cote’s Palm Trees, the story of a mother and the way she cares for her child is beautifully rendered. Millie, a pre-adolescent girl, is anxious because her mother just secured a job and needs to leave early in the morning, so that Millie must now comb her own hair. She must also get herself dressed and occupied. The setting of this book is a city. The story is about more than hair: Friendship figures very strongly as well as a sense of being cared for. The protagonist is an appealing young girl whose behavior is very reasonable.
Millie is challenged by the daunting task of fixing her hair herself for the first time. Millie wishes she had not inherited her father’s “tight curls,” but rather had her mother’s “soft brown waves.” She finally does manage to arrange her hair in an unusual, but comfortable style. It looks like she has two palm trees growing at the top of her head. She is now ready to meet with her friend, Renee, for a play date.
When the two girls get together, Renee seems to be teasing her and laughing at her hairdo. Millie is devastated and runs home. She almost cuts off her hair, but is prevented from doing this by Renee’s arrival. Renee has taken the time and trouble to arrange her own hair with three palm trees on top of her head. The two girls then spend the rest of the day arranging and rearranging their hair, deciding, in the end, that they like the palm tree hairdo best. Mother returns home from work and is greeted by two happy girls.
The illustrations of this supportive and nurturing book match the storyline. Readers can peruse the pages and note details that reinforce the plot as well as provide clues to upcoming events. The characters are respectfully and realistically drawn. The setting is neither idealized nor demonized. It is decidedly a crowded city neighborhood, but there is no sense of oppression or poverty. People are portrayed at work, shopping, and going about their lives in an everyday manner. The message is not hammered home, but develops with the plot and characters. Readers might speculate about the whereabouts of the father; they might also wonder that Millie has reached such an advanced age without ever having done her own hair. It might also be worthwhile for readers to suggest ways adults might have intervened in response to Renee’s reaction, or they might recommend other responses on Millie’s part. This is a book worth owning; it can be approached at many levels.
My Hair is Beautiful … Because It’s Mine!, by Paula deJoie, communicates the same message of pride and affirmation. On every page is an image of a beautiful Black child with a distinctive hairdo. It ends with the declaration, “My hair is beautiful because it’s MINE!” The illustrations depict accurately and positively the great range of hair possibilities for African American children. It even mentions one child’s hair as a style like an African Queen’s thus linking the child to her roots. This is a lovely board book for young children, especially in reflecting the individual’s understanding of self. (This book is part of the Black Butterfly Board Books, an affirming series.) The book makes no attempt to be overtly political; certainly this is an age-appropriate decision on the part of the author and illustrator.
The book, Wild, Wild Hair by the renowned poet, Nikki Grimes, tells the story of a young girl’s Monday morning experience of having her mother comb her “wild hair” into twenty braids. The child dreads the process of “raking” through her curly, thick hair and tries to hide. It is an easy-to-read book, part of the Hello Readers Series, at an accessible level for young children: The story is told in rhyming verse and captures the universal experience of a parent helping groom a lively, rambunctious, and not too cooperative young child. The book’s illustrations place the child in an affluent home, an important contribution to show the class diversity that exists within the African American community. The ending demonstrates that the struggle was worth it; the child’s hair is beautifully and elaborately braided and the child and mother are both content.
Even when there are so many attractive features included in the illustrations and story, we can invite children to engage with ideas being communicated and ask questions such as: Why Monday morning? It is hard to believe that the mother would permit her daughter to go to sleep without preparing her hair on the eve of a school week for the combing they both know will occur in the morning. Why is it only the mother who can locate the child, especially since she always hides in the same place? If the children put themselves in the parents’ shoes, what would they say or do differently? One difficulty readers have with this otherwise charming story is that it might be perceived as making some negative associations with “natural” Black hair: It is “wild, wild hair” and “a mess.”
A number of books attempt to convey the message of cultural affirmation through the image of hair. I Love My Hair! by Natasha Anastasia Tarpley succeeds in this intent. From the text it seems that this child is the only one in her class with African hair because the children tease her when she wears her hair in an Afro. Then the illustrations show the teacher and a male companion, both in African garb, wearing their hair in Afros, lovingly and supportively affirming the child and her heritage. The teacher introduces the political aspect of particular hairstyles. She explains that wearing the Afro is a way “to stand up for what they believed, to let the world know that they were proud of who they were and where they came from.” In this story the mother is shown as loving, caring, and admiring of her daughter’s beautiful hair. The child is heartened by the combination of affection and pride, and feels liberated to the point where one day she thinks she will fly.
The illustrations are designed to contest stereotypes: They situate the child within an African American family who are not poor and who reside in a suburban community clearly populated by many African Americans. Notice the bookcase in the child’s room, filled with books. This is a book that can invite discussion among the students: Why was the young girl teased? How is wearing one’s hair in a certain style a political statement? What are some other ways we can stand up for ourselves and help our friends to withstand teasing?
In all of the books we have read and analyzed, Haircuts at Sleepy Sam’s by Michael Strickland, and Bippity Bop Barbershop, by Natasha Anastasia Tarpley, are the only ones with male protagonists. The settings are two barbershops. Julia J. Thompson (1998) reminds us that the beauty salon brings a variety of women together to explore cultural norms. She claims that “the beauty salon can, by extension, be seen as an important site of cultural production …” (Thompson, 1998: 239). The same is true of the barbershop. It is a space for negotiating one’s cultural identity. In Haircuts at Sleepy Sam’s, it is clear that the mother knows exactly what hairstyle she wants her three sons to have and they know what haircuts they want, but it is Sam, the barber, who makes the final decisions for all of them. The barbershop is a meeting place for a number of men in the Black community, and it is this ambience that communicates well the sense of self-pride and joviality that pervades the entire story. The mother gracefully accepts her sons’ new styles even though they are very different from what she explicitly requested.
The illustrations in this amiable book are realistic. The characters are attractive and have a definite presence. No mention is made of “good hair” or “bad hair” although Sam does say “You’re no longer nappy” as he finishes the youngest boy’s haircut. But the statement is made as a comment on fact, not as a value judgment.
There is a clear indication in this story that the “bald fade” cut is the preferred style of the day for young people but this is a comment on styles and fashion, not on class or aesthetics. Readers might ask why the mother bothers to write out instructions when she knows that Sam will do as he pleases anyway. It might also be worthwhile for readers to discuss the derivation of hairstyles and their designation as “in style” or out. How do the trends evolve? It might be an interesting project to visit a hair salon or barbershop and see what’s on the walls, and what the customers as well as the hairstylists prefer in terms of hairstyles. How does the hairstyle relate to current culture?
In Bippity Bop Barbershop by Natasha Anastasia Tarpley, the author teams up again with illustrator E.B. Lewis (this is the same pair that gave us I Love My Hair) to focus this time on the hair experience of a young boy and his father. In this story Miles’ dad is taking him to the barbershop for his first professional haircut. Although he is not frightened at first, the combination of the well-intentioned men congregating in the barbershop telling him to be brave, together with the unexpectedly ferocious sound of the electric clippers, causes Miles to hide beneath the protective cape. Miles’ dad lovingly reassures him, and the haircut is completed successfully. Mr. Seymour, the barber, has been Miles’ dad’s barber since childhood. This rite of passage is completed when Miles’ dad requests and receives a haircut just like his son’s, and the two joyfully walk home together.
Hair is only one of the factors binding the father and son. Miles makes it clear from the beginning that he identifies strongly with his dad. They even dress “in matching blue jeans and gym shoes” (n.p.). Since Miles is the narrator, it is his perspective that the reader is treated to. The barbershop is depicted as a place to gather. The illustrations picture a wide variety of Black men, with different features, ages, and hairstyles. Mr. Seymour is never portrayed.
Another book aimed at young children is Happy to be Nappy, by bell hooks. The intent of this book is to overturn the negative connotations of “nappy.” The language is a fun romp. The illustrations are not wedded to the text; they have a life of their own and provide a fantasy world of blocks of color, swirls, dots of ink, splotches, and fuzzy outlines. The book communicates a sense of joy. As Hazel Rochman (1999: 2064) comments in her review in Booklist, “It’s a greeting card.” It would be unreasonable to expect anything deep or substantive in a greeting card. If this book is on the shelf among others that reinforce the positive features of natural African hair, it will provide a light and playful companion piece. There is no one character whom we follow. The cartoon-like faces sport a wide array of colors, facial features and shapes of hair. The hair itself prances and dances on the page and rarely lies close to the scalp of its owner. There is no context, plot, setting, or characterization. The hair is everywhere. The overall tone is affirming. An interesting activity might be to read the book aloud to children and have them draw their own pictures, and then compare and contrast them with the original illustrations.
Crowning Glory by Joyce Carol Thomas is a collection of illustrated poems, providing a context of a particular extended family with cousins, aunts, grandmother, and great-grandmother celebrating African-American hair and educating the reader about the variety of hairstyles and methods of hairdressing. This positive attitude toward hair is summed up in the final poem, “Crowning Glory.” The author notes that she has written this collection as “a tribute to my beautician mother and all her hairdressing foremothers” (n.p.).
The illustrations are particularly tender because they are portraits of the author’s daughter and seven granddaughters. The collection is a joy-filled peon of praise for the glorious natural (comb picked), wound with thread, “braided, pressed, dreadlocked, hot-curled, crowned with ribbons, and beaded with jewels” hair.
Classroom Applications
In highlighting the cultural theme of hair in children’s books, we examine issues of cultural affirmation and reclamation, and cultural misrepresentation. We maintain that an uncontested reading puts the reader in the power of the author, illustrator, and society’s biases. Roderick McGillis (1996: 113) informs us that “texts reproduce the dominant values of a culture at a particular time.” A non-resistant reading helps engrain dominant worldviews and gets in the way of readers imagining new possibilities for being in the world. As teachers and children acquire and use language to analyze power relations, they practice social critique and change.
Teachers must serve as role models, and must be willing to engage with all types of literature. Mary Dilg (1999) emphasizes that teachers and children should “search together for comfortable [critical and respectful] language with which to speak to each other and to take some of their first steps in engaging in honest dialogue with each other, across cultural lines, about each other’s identities, fears, and uncertainties” (Dilg, 1999: 38). This kind of dialogue will help children discern racialized, classed, and gendered texts and images, and take responsibility for maintaining, challenging, and constructing culture.
Tony Watkins (1992) reminds us that
… the stories we tell our children, the narratives we give them to make sense of cultural experience, constitute a kind of mapping, maps of meaning that enable our children to make sense of the world. They contribute to children’s sense of identity, an identity that is simultaneously personal and social: narratives, we might say, shape the way children find a “home” in the world.
(Watkins, 1992: 183)
All books are culturally coded. A passive stance, that is, one that accepts the authors’ words and illustrators’ images unquestioningly, is not neutral. It maintains the status quo and the explicit message of the author and/or illustrator, and robs power from the individual reader.
Recommendations for Classroom Research
There are many cultural themes that are possible to explore through literature. Young readers need to be taught to recognize and acknowledge the universalities and differences in cultural thematic explorations, locating the historical and sociopolitical factors that have contributed to these social patterns. Time, setting, class depiction, and cultural difference are but a few of the conditions affecting the perception and attitude of the reader. The same theme can be portrayed in many different ways. Readers need to expand their understanding of their own social identities, as well as the social identities of others. It is useful for teachers and children to look at the representation of culturally specific themes (like the theme of hair) over time to determine by critical multicultural analysis what different social and political meanings adhere to the texts above and beyond their language and illustrations.
As two White women concerned with looking at how culture works and is represented in children’s literature, we have attempted to examine carefully the points of view of people from within as well as from outside the culture. We have explored conflicting views, different interpretations of the issues, and delved into the complexities. We strongly recommend that this type of analysis be undertaken in order to read critically and multiculturally and to re/contextualize cultural themes.
Suggestions for Further Reading
Banks, Ingrid. (2000). Hair matters: Beauty, power, and Black women’s consciousness. New York: New York University Press.
Byrd, Ayana & Tharps, Lori L. (2002). Hair story: Untangling the roots of Black hair in America. New York: St. Martin’s Griffin.
Ilyin, Natalia. (2000). Blonde like me: The roots of the blonde myth in our culture. New York: Touchstone.
Jacobs-Huey, Lanita. (2006). From the kitchen to the parlor: Language and becoming African American women’s hair care. New York: Oxford University Press.
Kreamer, Anne. (2007). Going gray: What I learned about beauty, sex, work, motherhood, authenticity, and everything else that really matters. Boston: Little, Brown and Co.
Lester, Neal A. (2000). Nappy edges and goldy locks: African-American daughters and the politics of hair. The Lion and the Unicorn, 24(2), 201–224.
Weitz, Rose. (2004). Rapunzel’s daughters: What women’s hair tells us about women’s lives. New York: Farrar, Strauss & Giroux.
References
Children’s Literature
· Alcott, Louisa May. (1867/1994). Little women. Illustrated by Valerie Alderson. New York: Oxford University Press. (Original work published 1867.)
· Badt, Karin Luisa. (1994). Hair there and everywhere. Chicago: Children’s Press.
· Cisneros, Sandra. (1994). Hairs/pelitos. Illustrated by Terry Ybanez. New York: Knopf: Distributed by Random House.
· Cote, Nancy. (1993). Palm trees. Illustrated by Nancy Cote. New York: Four Winds Press.
· DeJoie, Paula. (1996). My hair is beautiful … Because it’s mine. Illustrated by Paula deJoie. New York: Writers and Readers Publishing: Distributed by Black Butterfly Children’s Books.
· Greenfield, Eloise. (2003). Honey, I love. Illustrated by Jan Spivey Gilchrist. New York: HarperCollins.
· Greenfield, Eloise. (1978). Honey, I love, and other love poems. Illustrated by Leo and Diane Dillon. New York: Crowell.
· Grimes, Nikki. (1996). Wild, wild hair. Illustrated by George Cephas Ford. New York: Scholastic.
· Henry, O. (1980). The gift of the Magi. Illustrated by Byron Glaser. Mankato, MN: Creative Education. (Original published 1906).
· Herron, Carolivia. (1997). Nappy hair. Illustrated by Joe Cepeda. New York: Knopf: Distributed by Random House.
· Hiltebeitel, Alf, and Barbara D. Miller. (1998). Hair: Its power and meaning in Asian cultures. State University of New York Press.
· hooks, bell. (1999). Happy to be nappy. Illustrated by Christopher Raschka. New York: Hyperion Books for Children.
· Kroll, Virginia L. (1995). Hats off to hair! Illustrated by Kay Life. Watertown, MA: Charlesbridge.
· Madrigal, Antonio Hernández. (1999). Erandi’s braids. Illustrated by Tomie De Paola. New York: Putnam.
· Montgomery, L. M. (1994). Anne of Green Gables. Illustrated by Inga Moore. New York: Holt. (Original work published 1908).
· Strickland, Michael R. (1998). Haircuts at Sleepy Sam’s. Illustrated by Keaf Holliday. Honesdale, PA: Boyds Mills Press Inc.
· Tarpley, Natasha. (1997). I love my hair! Illustrated by Earl B. Lewis. Boston: Little Brown.
· Tarpley, Natasha. (2002). Bippity Bop Barbershop. Illustrated by E. B. Lewis. Boston: Little, Brown.
· Thomas, Joyce Carol. (2002). Crowning glory. Illustrated by Brenda Joysmith. New York: HarperCollins.
· Yarbrough, Camille. (1979). Cornrows. Illustrated by Carole, M. Byard. New York: Coward McCann & Geoghegan.
· Zelinsky, Paul O. (1997). Rapunzel. Illustrated by author. New York: Dutton Children’s Books.
Secondary Sources
· Byrd, Ayana D. & Lori L. Tharps. (2001). Hair story: Untangling the roots of Black hair in America. New York: St. Martin’s Press.
· Dilg, Mary. (1999). The opening of the American mind: Challenges in the cross-cultural teaching of literature. Race and culture in the classroom: Teaching and learning through multicultural education. New York: Teachers’ College Press.
· Enekwechi, Adaeza & Opal Moore. (1999). Children’s literature and the politics of hair in books for African American children. Children’s Literature Quarterly 24(4), 195–200.
· Martin, Michelle. (1999). Never too nappy. The Horn Book Magazine, 75(3), 283–289.
· McGillis, Roderick. (1996). Class action: Politics and critical practices. The nimble reader: Literary theory and children’s literature. New York: Twayne Publishers.
· Morrison, Toni. (1992). Playing in the dark: Whiteness and the literary imagination. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
· Myers, Mitzi. (1988). Missed opportunities and critical malpractice: New historicism and children’s literature. Children’s Literature Association Quarterly, 13(1), 41–43.
· Nye, Naomi Shihab. (1995). Introduction. In The tree is older than you are: A bilingual gathering of poems and stories from Mexico. Paintings by Mexican Artists. New York: Aladdin.
· Rochman, Hazel. (1999). Review of Happy to be Nappy. Booklist, 95 (22).
· Thompson, Julia J. (1998). Cuts and culture in Kathmandu. In Alf Hiltebeitel and Barbara D. Miller (Ed.), Hair: Its power and meaning in Asian cultures. New York: State University of New York Press.
· Watkins, Tony. (1992). Cultural studies, new historicism and children’s literature. In Peter Hunt (Ed.), Literature for children: Contemporary criticism. New York: Routledge.
· West, Cornell. (1990). The new cultural politics of difference. In Russell Ferguson (Ed.), Out there: Marginalization and contemporary cultures: Documentary sources in contemporary art. New York: New Museum of Contemporary Art & Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.