In Chris Rock’s 2009 documentary satire Good Hair is good cinema. His thorough documentation demonstrates his long-standing respect for women, their hair, style, beauty and grace. The film extends across the globe to India, a lesson in hair-weaves popular with black US American women particularly actors. Candid interviews with celebrated black actors who wear Indian weaved-hair demystifies good hair myths, beauty secrets otherwise unknown.
Since Rock charmed audiences in The Wayan Brothers I’m Gonna Get You Sucka, proves a small but significant role can catapult a career into orbit. His appearance in the film is under two minutes, a well characterized role depicting the absurdities in black business. Ironically, Good Hair and I’m Gonna Get You Sucka are close in parody, the frenzied obsession with possessions. Hair doesn’t choose the way it is, like people choose to behave good or bad. Hair, like fingernails are just a biological extension, only living in the root. To suggest otherwise is a simple misunderstanding carelessly projected onto girls framing their identity beyond their control.
In the 21st Century, black girls should know their beauty based on their intelligence. Rock makes a smart and safe move by extracting himself from the discussion of ethical hair by remarking it’s not what’s on your head that’s important but what’s inside your head. True but it’s a shame for a disproportionate amount of black girls to grow up without knowing their natural inherent splendor let alone have a warped sense of it through distinguished actors.
Personally, mother’s grooming techniques included the hot comb. Cleaning hair takes minutes nevertheless it was ritualized into a dreadful 2-hour session, tolerated only by a movie. Even the results though pretty were marginally valued. Growing up with a little brother in the scorching hot suburban summers of the bay area helped keep things in perspective, with a short natural he had freedom. Jumping in pools straight from the locker rooms was a high priority leaving swim caps deliberately at the door. Running up and down a soccer field was far more prized than worrying about hair. Even if black girls say they want it, in the end, they don’t need relaxers. Now, if only we can find a Puerto Rican comedian to dispell the social custom of why girls are called mamas and boys papas.
