32 Jay Lee – Representation of Girls’ African American Hair in Children’s Books
Jay Lee is a Junior at IU East and is majoring in Sociology. She plans to work in HR, but her dream is to be a kindergarten teacher. In her free time, she enjoys writing, pageantry, and watching Modern Family. This work was prepared for Alisa Clapp-Itnyre’s English L390 class, who states, “Jay wrote a very sensitive and important paper on HAIR in children’s picture books!”
Representation of Girls’ African American Hair in Children’s Books
“Your hair looks messy”, “What are those beads in your hair?”, “Your hair looks dirty.” These are just a few of the unintentionally hurtful comments made by my kindergarten students. While these girls don’t mean any harm, it affects young Black girls and their self-esteem, and they often find themselves molding or changing their hair drastically to fit in with their peers. African-American hair is generally described as “unique” and “difficult” hair, as many are not familiar how to approach it and “tame” it. African-American hair in children’s picture books, especially girls’ hair, can be underrepresented and can lead to a sense of feeling insecure. Children’s picture books are important as their illustrations serve purpose and highlight underrepresented groups. Diversity and inclusivity in these books is significant for these girls.
African-American girls are often underrepresented in children’s picture books. It is important for children to see themselves and familiar figures in these illustrations—and not all children are represented and seen. I will be analyzing and comparing commonalities among six picture books that highlight Black girls’ hair and their experiences, while also examining another five separate picture books’ illustrations of Black hair and how it is represented. All of these books I will be looking at serve purpose for Black children gaining self-esteem by appreciating their natural hair, and hopefully will help white readers become aware and sensitive about how what they think may be compliments can actually be insensitive and rude remarks.
Firstly, before even beginning to critically analyze and compare Black hair and its representation in children’s picture books, we have to understand its history and what “nappy hair” means. In Lester’s “Nappy Edges and Goldy Locks: African American Daughters and the Politics of Hair,” it compares “Eurocentric ideal of female beauty”, referring to goldy locks as straight and smooth hair to the misunderstood nappy, Black hair. Slave masters would comment on their slaves’ hair texture and “feelings of inferiority,” and slaves would often be told to “wear kerchiefs to shield their perceived aesthetically displeasing hair from their white superiors” (Lester 205). Lester even notes that, back to the 19th and 20th century, plantation songs would be used to mock and humiliate Blacks and often harsh descriptions of their hair would include: “nappy”, “kinky”, or “wooly” (206). Many of these songs would share a common theme and message: that Blacks’ hair is “undesirable” and “bad hair” (Lester 207). Lester even further goes on to share the history of Blacks not only just lightening and straightening their hair, but their skin as well—many Blacks did lighten both hair and skin to “embrace the ideal of straight hair” (207). So, it is no surprise that children and adults today are still trying to “calm down” their hair and that feelings of discomfort and insecurity rise when their hair becomes a target. Black girls are constantly being thrown in “competing beauty mythologies” and often desire and imagine for their “nappy hair [to be] replaced with the perceived ideal of straight blonde hair” (Lester 207). As if these ideals aren’t enough for young Black girls, there are books that focus on highlighting and bringing attention to their Black hair and culture and really just implying that there is a need for books like these, because their “nappy hair” isn’t normal and needs to be discussed.
Lester mentions Herron’s Nappy Hair, which is a good segue into discussing the controversial, yet necessary representation on Black girls’ hair. Nappy Hair follows young Brenda, a Black girl with the “nappiest” hair. Her uncle tells the story of how Brenda gets the “nappiest” hair from God while also “digs” at how combing her hair is “like crunching through snow about a foot two feet at least with two inches of crust on the top” (Herron 8), implying that her hair is a pain to brush through. Her uncle describes the story of her nappy hair as an “act of God that came straight through Africa”—even Angels came up to God asking how He could give an innocent child such nappy hair. However, when Brenda’s family looked down on her as a young child in the crib, her family was proud and God had said, “well done” as “one nap of her hair is the only perfect circle in nature” (Herron 17). Nappy Hair is about self-acceptance and embracing your natural hair that God gave you. Boonoonoonous Hair and Happy to Be Nappy are two other children’s books that follow and share the same theme of self-acceptance and identity through hair and embracing all the kinks and coils. Happy to Be Nappy is a great introductory book for primary ages and embracing all of hair’s beauties. Hooks describes Black hair as a “halo—a crown—a covering for heads that are round” (Hooks 6); and all different types of combination of styling Black hair—each beautiful and unique in their own way. Happy to Be Nappy is a celebration of natural Black hair and reclaiming and repurposing the once negative and demeaning term, “nappy,” and embracing every twist and curl and strength that comes along with this beautiful hair. The naïve illustrations throughout this book are simply beautiful and easy to grasp for beginners. Boonoonoonous Hair also follows the themes of uniqueness in the various ways to style and show off Black hair and its authenticity. Senior expresses that Black hair is “electric, kinetic and free” while others’ hair “looks the same” and Black hair can help with “framing the face and whizz off into the stratosphere” (10). Senior gives examples of having different kinds of hair styles every day of the year—starting off with “puffs on Monday”, “plaits on Tuesday”, “braids on Wednesday”: these examples help Black girls relate and connect with their own hair and realize that they, too, can updo their hair in multiple unique ways, while other girls with blonde, straight, and smooth hair are unable to achieve these bold and powerful hair styles (pp. 12-15).
Enekwechi and Morre’s “Children’s Literature and the Politics of Hair in Books for African-American Children,” brings attention to “hair anxiety” that is a part of Black life (195). Black children and adults are no strangers to the comments of “Can I touch your hair?” or “So what do you do to your hair?”; these unintentionally and simply just curious questions from strangers can be annoying and rude as Black people find white people’s hands on their hair without their permission. Miller’s Don’t Touch My Hair shares all the experiences of struggles and uncomfortable conversations that Black people may encounter when it comes to their hair and the often disrespectful and insensitive responses from white people when Black people turn down these remarks. This book follows young Aria, who openly embraces and loves her hair and often styles it “freely”; while she admires and appreciates that others find her hair fascinating, she gets annoyed when they begin to touch her hair without her permission—Aria becomes really good at “avoiding hands” and “hiding her hair” in hopes that people will not touch her hair (pp. 6-8). No matter where Aria goes, people don’t seem to understand that she doesn’t want her hair being touched without her permission—which can be a very real and annoying, ongoing situation for young Black girls. Finally, Aria has had enough and shouts, “Don’t touch my hair!” (26); and explains to others that they need to respect her when she tells them not to touch her hair. Miller does a great job ending the story in a simple way involving a girl asking Aria if she can touch her hair, to which Aria responds, “Not today” (27); this shows how simple it is to say no and how easy it is for others to simply not push boundaries. Enekwechi and Morre’s article, in comparison to Miller’s book, further explores the politics in regard to touching and not touching Black hair. Miller does a great job at capturing a Black child’s self-pride, empowerment, and being okay setting boundaries when it comes to their hair.
The last two books, Hair Love and My Hair Is Magic, both focus on the importance of self-styling and caring for one’s Black hair and the patience and (sometimes) frustrations a parent may feel when styling their child’s hair. Hair Love involves a young girl, Zuri, and her dad helping her get ready for a special occasion and his struggles with styling her hair. Cherry brings an interesting twist to the story by highlighting a father doing his daughter’s hair, when stereotypically, it is the mother’s role to fix up the child’s hair. This book shows that fathers, too, can learn how to care for, style, and appreciate their young girls’ hair and all the uniqueness that comes with the process—and a father’s love to be needed. My Hair Is Magic highlights the rich and beautiful history that is not always talked about with young children, “Rich as my ancestral roots, deep as the Caribbean Sea” (20), and recognizes the beauty of Black hair. Both Marroquin, the author of this thoughtfully written book and Brooks and McNair’s article, “’Combing’ Through Representations of Black Girls’ Hair in African American Children’s Literature,” share a goal to help “colored children realize that being ‘colored’ is a normal, beautiful thing” this includes their hair as well (299). The first six books, Nappy Hair, Happy to Be Nappy, Boonoonoonous Hair, Don’t Touch My Hair, Hair Love, and My Hair Is Magic, all resemble an ongoing theme of self-identity, authenticity, and embracing one’s natural hair and being proud of it.
Just as importantly, I want to acknowledge and appreciate another set of five children’s books and how their authors perceive and represent Black hair and Black children. When discussing books such as, Something Beautiful, Jamaica’s Find, The Patchwork Quilt, The Colors of Us, and Faraway Drums, these stories do not focus on Black hair necessarily, and I will only be analyzing the illustrations and how accurately Black children are being represented. Starting off with cartoon-ish like illustrations, The Colors of Us explores and expands beyond just Black and white children. Katz describes all the different types of skin colors in a creative and fun way for young children to understand; “My mom’s the color of French toast” (2),“Sonia is a light-yellow brown” (4) “Isabella is chocolate brown” (6), and “Lucy has skin that’s peachy and tan” (7) are just a few creative examples. Again, these illustrations appear more cartoon-like, which is a good fit for younger children. These last four books, Something Beautiful, Jamaica’s Find, The Patchwork Quilt, and Faraway Drums, all are representational images, as Black and Brown children can easily relate and connect with these characters. Finding the beauty in an underprivileged neighborhood, which many Black children are too familiar with, can help these children connect to these books on a deeper, emotional level. The soft, warm colors in Something Beautiful help children connect with the realistic realities of finding something, anything, beautiful in unique and differing neighborhoods. The Patchwork Quilt and Faraway Drums both connect the Black tradition and culture of connecting with family and the significance of heritage. Black children will not learn to appreciate their own rich and diverse culture if they aren’t aware that other children, too, value these things. Jamaica’s Find is a very realistic, simply beautiful story with light, soft watercolor illustrations that follows young Jamaica and her journey of finding a small, stuffed dog abandoned at the park. The representation of Jamaica’s hair and lifestyle is all very realistic and mindful to children who are reading.
While African-American culture and history can sometimes be a risky, controversial topic, it is still important that children’s authors and illustrators break barriers to help this issue become more “normal” and promote accurate representation of Black children and their hair—which is a big part of their identity. It is important to continue writing and creating realistic images so one day Black children don’t have to specially search for “books with Black characters” and not feel embarrassed when there is only one Black protagonist in a story. Black children should have the same representation as white children do and not wonder why they are so different—they aren’t. In Barton’s article, “The Elevation of Black Girls’ Hair: An Analysis of Visual Representations in Children’s Picture Books,” it states that, “Black girls… are often the people least guaranteed to be centered as valuable in collective work” (4). The elevation of hair being depicted throughout out children’s picture books has captured the “salience of hair,” and readers are often “lured by her curious expression framed by her [Black girls’ hair] headband and soft curls” creating a realistic and connecting image to real life hair (15). Books should be a place for children to turn to learn, discover, and feel comfortable and connect with the characters and stories they are reading about, not another place that marginalizes them.
Works Cited
Barton, Reka C., et al. “The Elevation of Black Girls’ Hair: An Analysis of Visual Representations in Children’s Picture books.” Journal of Early Childhood Literacy, vol. 24, no. 4, 2024, pp. 816–838.
Brooks, M.W. and McNair, C.J. “Combing” Through Representations of Black Girls’ Hair in African American Children’s Literature.” Children’s Literature in Education, vol. 46, 2015, pp. 296-307.
Cherry, Matthew A. Hair Love. Penguin Young Readers, 2019.
Enekwechi, Adaeze, and Opal Moore. “Children’s Literature and the Politics of Hair in Books for African American Children.” Children s Literature Association Quarterly, vol. 24, no. 4, 1999, pp. 195–200.
Flournoy, Valerie. The Patchwork Quilt. Bodley Head Children’s Books, 1985.
Havill, Juanita. Jamaica’s Find. 20th ed., Houghton Mifflin (Trade), 1987.
Hooks, Bell. Happy to Be Nappy. Jump at the Sun, 2017.
Katz, Karen. The Colors of Us. Henry Holt & Company, 2007.
Kroll, Virginia. Faraway Drums. Little, Brown and Company, 1998.
Lester, Neal A. “Nappy Edges and Goldy Locks: African American Daughters and the Politics of Hair.” The Lion and the Unicorn, vol. 24, no. 2, 2000, pp. 201–224.
Marroquin, M. L. My Hair Is Magic! Page Street Publishing, 2020.
Miller, Sharee. Don’t Touch My Hair! Little, Brown Young Readers, 2020.
Olive. Boonoonoonous Hair. Tradewind Books, 2019.
Wyeth, Sharon Dennis. Something Beautiful. Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, 1998.