Heavy Lies the Head

Heavy is the head that wears the crown. I used to think that that only applied to Henry IV, but following my experiences in high school in Jamaica, it's clear that this statement is ironically true. As a predominantly black country, we should be chomping at the bit to uplift our melanated self-expression. Our language, our clothes, our jokes, but most importantly in the context of this piece, our hair. Our hair, with all its kinks and coils, is our crown. It's the first thing people see when they look at us, and for us guys, it's been described as our version of makeup. It's undeniable that our hair is something that as we grow, we assume more responsibility for. For boys, we move from the bald-headed "skullaz" to whatever variation of the classic fade, locs, cornrows, braids, even afros, and in some cases, a combination of these styles. For girls, it's even more complex, rising from bubbles and Bantu knots to braids, locs, and buns. Our hair is the one thing that we cannot escape, we can’t help it. No amount of creaming, straightening, perming or other kinds of processing will change the fact that at the end of the day, we have curly hair. By right it should be something celebrated, teenagers, taking pride in their appearance, discovering their desired type of self-expression, undergoing a process of self-actualization. In reality, though, at the place where we spend most of our time: school, we are punished for it. We are punished for something we cannot control. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Allow me to take you on a journey through the broken system that is grooming regulations in Jamaican schools.

Here is a sample of what hair rules look like in Jamaican schools:

For Girls:

1. Hair must be neat and controlled

2. No colours, dyes or other types of alterations

3. No/limited usage of false hair such as braids

For Boys:

1. Hair must be cut in a short, conventional manner (unless for religious reasons)

2. Hair must be the same length on every part of the head

3. No dyes, colours or other types of alterations

4. No shaved-in styles

On the surface, these rules look pretty standard, one might even say reasonable, as some schools are more relaxed in certain areas, such as the length of boys’ hair or the use of false hair like braids. So what’s the problem?

Simple: They aren’t enforced uniformly, especially for boys

All you have to do is take one look around a school, and I guarantee that the average length of a black boy’s hair will be much shorter than that of a Caucasian, mixed-race or Asian person's. I would think that when the rule book says “For Boys,” that there isn’t a “(black)” inserted before “Boys.” Out of Many, One People, right? I recently carried out a small survey, and out of around 30 respondents, with a black majority, mostly in 6th form, 77% of respondents have been criticized or at least approached by a school official about their hair. One would think that being approached by a school official would be a simple task to navigate, with some sort of understanding being reached. That situation becomes a bit more complicated when students have to undergo having their hair characterized as “ghetto, unladylike, unkempt, untidy, unprofessional, among so many other derogatory adjectives. While oftentimes students can keep their hair, maybe having to “pat it down” or another form of compressing the size of the hair, 85% of students felt that they were unfairly singled out due to their race. It’s the 2020s and there are still incidences of prejudice against black people in a predominantly black country. Quite backwards, in my opinion.

A simple, neat fade that would not be allowed in most Jamaican schools [Credit: instagram.com/cool_cutz]

Schools need to wake up. Times are changing. The same way the architecture has changed, textbooks have updated, the teaching staff has rotated, blackboards have become whiteboards, grooming rules need a revamp. Schools insist that they aim to keep every student on a level playing field, yet I have personally heard a school official say that male students should go to the barber once a week to maintain their low cut. A) That’s ridiculous, we have lives outside of school. B) We don’t have the time to be in the barber every week when we have work to do. C) Going to the barber every week, for a haircut that amounts to about $1000, adds up to about $4000 per month, which totals about $48,000 spent just on haircuts. We don’t have disposable income and many students will not be able to afford more than one haircut every two months, let alone every week. If we were to cut our hair as often as is seemingly expected by the dress code, we would eventually end up spending a lot of time on our hair, which is exactly what dress codes supposedly aim to prevent. For girls, these rules that police natural hair don’t reflect the reality of being a black girl in 2022. Ethnically African hair is gentle, it needs deliberate and time-consuming care. This can become cumbersome and time-consuming, but the alternative of processing hair leads to lasting damage. Braids as a protective style is a fairly durable alternative to this, as they are low maintenance and stylish as well. Yet braids, which consequently allow for more time to focus on studies, are allowed at only a handful of schools. It’s understandable, as braids can be a fashion accessory, that they are viewed warily, as a girl walking into school with neon tipped braids would not be appropriate with the uniform. Simple solution: specify the type of braids/another protective style. Use the rules and structures in place to be more accommodating to black students, instead of exclusive. No student should have to endure being told that they have “devil’s hair”, or asked, “when was the last time they combed their hair” in a place where we come to learn.

Barbadian singer/national hero Rihanna wearing braids to the British Fashion Awards [Credit: Allure Magazine]

The lengths that schools go to enforce these rules are simply ridiculous: a certain Boys’ school threatening to prevent students from sitting the most important exam of their lives so far if their hair was not cut, disregarding the fact that barbers have become less accessible due to the COVID pandemic, a primary school student being turned away from the school where her parents have paid for her to attend because of her locs. The Supreme Court supporting the school on its decision because “...because parents do not wash their children's dreadlocked hair which leads to lice and "[encourages] insanitary conditions,” according to the court judgement. This statement alone should enrage us. The notion that dreadlocks are dirty and encourage unsanitary behaviour perpetuates the stereotype that black people are dirty people that cannot take care of themselves without clear rules in place. A simple YouTube or Google search would tell you that there are a variety of ways to care for and clean locs. Common sense should tell us that “even Rastafarians” or those with dreadlocks have to take care of their hair in some way. As a predominantly black country, why have we so fixated on over-policing ourselves? What kind of message does that send to our kids? That they should hate their hair in its natural state? That their desire to express themselves through their hair is wrong? That they have ‘devil’s hair’?

Jamaican student ZV and her family. ZV (according to court records) was banned from entering her primary school due to her dreadlocks, which are a family tradition. [Credit: CNN]

Taking a step back, what end are these rules a means to achieve? Is it to enforce uniformity? If so, we are a diverse country and that should be celebrated. Even so, aren’t school uniforms enough for uniformity? We still are individual people, no matter how much khaki we wear. Are the rules making our lives easier, removing stress so we can focus on our studies? All work and no play make Jack a dull boy though. Regardless, our hair doesn’t affect our learning ability. The curls don’t stop the information from entering our heads. Taking care of our hair does take time, but doesn’t that teach us to have better time management, or develop a spirit of perseverance, or care about how we present ourselves to the outside world? No matter where we go, as a minority, we will always be judged to a different standard. Yet why should we box ourselves in, why not teach us to challenge the view that our hair is naturally messy as soon as it passes one inch? I guarantee that message is more helpful than harmful. Trust me, the very fabric of our (already flawed) society won’t be ripped apart just because black students can wear their hair longer. Why should we accept it? As Angela Davis said, “I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept.” The clear unfavourable bias against black students and the wider hair rule that pervades Jamaican schools is just that, unacceptable. There needs to be a change.