Don’t touch my hair
When it’s the feelings I wear
Don’t touch my soul
When it’s the rhythm I know
Don’t touch my crown
When it’s the vision I’ve found
R&B artist and younger sister to Beyonce, Solange’s 2016 breakout hit “Don’t Touch My Hair” caused many to stop and listen. And listen well.
Even those who ignored her passionate “laying-on-of-hands” scene in the elevator with a certain in-law, are now clear that the fire and fervor with which this sister operates in her gift is sprinkled with Black girl magic.
And although the elevator scene offered no sound (although we could all safely guess the colorful language that permeated the atmosphere), “Don’t Touch My Hair” is Solange’s offering to us of a powerful anthem that resonates with women of color on a variety of spectra. Her declaration that her “hair is her (expletive deleted)” is pretty boss and solidifies her stance that she will not compromise her beliefs and identity to accommodate others.
Unfortunately, for female scholars of color, particularly those of us in higher education, our crown is as much a curse as it is a gift.
As a professor of higher education and junior faculty member, I find that opportunities to engage in discourse surrounding how women of color navigate the professoriate successfully are critical to the support and empowerment that has, for many, been nonexistent.
And would you indulge my transparency for a moment? We are family, right? I’ll say it: We are probably our worst enemies and harshest critics.
