Assata Shakur: The Woman Who Inspires My Natural Hair

One African American woman in history that has been a great influence to me is political activist Assata Shakur. In the 12th grade, I enrolled myself in a “Women in Literature” class at my high school. Our main reading was “Assata: An Autobiography” by Assata Shakur which fellow Brownstone writer, Chevonne Collins wrote about Wednesday.

What I liked about the autobiography was that the issues discussed weren’t trivial or stereotypical: they were real issues on race and politics. Finally, I thought, Black literature with substance. She touched upon the racial discrimination she experienced in the education system growing up as JoAnne Byron and the justice system when she became an adult after she joined the Black Panther Party and later changed her name to Assata Shakur.

However, Assata’s view on hair had the biggest impact on me. She expressed how stress-free and low maintenance it was to wear an afro. When I read that something struck a nerve in me . I realized how self-conscious I was about my hair. I was a “shampoo, press and curl” girl back in my high school days. Many girls at my school would get either presses or weaves. I would get a little afraid when my hair would “go back to Africa” at some places. When people told me that my hair was “trained,” I considered it a compliment until I read this book. An afro was more than just a hairstyle to me, but a symbol of my love for my Black heritage. This was definitely something the “man” wanted to suppress during the days of the days of the Black Power Movement. No longer was I excited about getting my hair done every other week. I felt like I was assimilating to the conventional constructs of beauty; being a beautiful women meant you had long, straight hair. These very constructs were created to undermine the Black race, implying that our distinct features should be considered ugly and unacceptable. Sadly, my surroundings would not approve; Los Angeles didn’t seem politically inclined to me and my beautician (older sister) would not allow me to.

I wore an afro for the first time in public during my freshmen year in college. I figured the Bay Area would embrace this style more than Los Angeles. I felt a little insecure at first, I didn’t know how people would react. I got many compliments from older people. One person called it “psychedelic,” others were amazed with how much hair I had. People of different races even complimented me. I felt liberated in a way. I was able to express myself in terms of my culture. Wearing an afro was a lot less worrisome as a press. Neither rain nor sweat scared me. What made me sad were people that couldn’t understand why I would wear my hair like that, all people who disliked my hair was black. However, I didn’t let stop me from wearing my afro; I honestly like showing off how thick my hair is.

This book showed me a side of Black history I never learned about before. I feel incredibly empowered as a Black person every time I read the book. The Afro has become a signature of mine. I wear it a lot more at home now than at school. It is my favorite hair style, mainly because of the remarks I get. I figure that people from other races wear their hair natural, why can’t I?

-- Amanda Scurlock

Brownstone Intern