I’ve worn my hair shorn close to my head for at least the last 10
years, from time to time letting it get a wild and wooly inch or so
past my scalp. I’m a member of the “happy is nappy” school, and
gleefully so. For years, I wore the T-shirt of a sister whose naps
could be used as the illustration that went with a sign that said
“happy is nappy.”
Now, I’ve heard that nappy is a dirty word. And on top of that, the
New York City teacher who used a book about nappy hair to teach
tolerance is running from the New York school, reportedly fearing for
her life.
The imbroglio made national headlines in late November, and it is a
teachable moment for those who deal with multiculturalism, race, and
gender.
Let me deal with first things first. Happy is nappy. I get up in
the morning, dunk into the shower, and 10 minutes later, I waltz out
without that bouncin’ and behavin’ hair of which White girls are so
fond. No, my hair is one of the few things that isn’t bouncin’ on me,
because the rest of me is mile-a-minute action. I am the antithesis of
a shampoo commercial, with nothing to unfrizz or relax, and that is
causing me next to no pain.
But there is nappy, and then there is nappy. There’s the
celebratory nappy-headed woman, and then there is the nappy-headed
sister who has been demeaned.
My naps have been tossed at me as a term of endearment (“Come on
over here with yo’ nappy-headed self.”), and as a term of derision
(“Who that nappy-headed sista think she is?”). They have been seen as a
symbol of seduction (“Let me run my fingers through that nappy, red
stuff.”), and a token of rejection (“She doesn’t even have that much
hair — can you hear the finger snap? — and it’s nappy.”).
While most nappy-headed putdowns are verbal, some are implicit,
nonverbal reminders of the difference between straight and nappy. For
example, there are these women who toss their hair as punctuation and
exclamation, slinging their dandruff all over the place.
