Black Hair Has Always Been ‘Professional’—Now the Law Is Finally Recognizing It

The first time I realized how much my hair had an impact on how others saw me, I was interviewing for my first real adult job. My friends and family helped me run through the checklist women—especially black women—have to be extra cognizant of about their appearance: What would I wear? How should I do my nails? My makeup? And the most crucial, How should I do my hair? I change my hair all the time, and it didn't occur to me that the way I wore it could make or break my chances of getting hired. Or worse, if I decide to later change it, could potentially get me fired.

So when I told my mom I wanted to get box braids, I could see the concern in her eyes. She didn't think braids would be a good first impression and warned me they could be viewed as "unprofessional." I couldn't blame her, though. That had forever been her reality. To her—to so many of us—looking "professional" meant looking more "mainstream," which meant wearing your hair straight. This all, of course, was really just a coded way of saying, "Look more white."

I showed up to that interview in a glue-in weave, despite the fact that it was a black-owned company. After I got the job, I promised myself I'd never alter the way I look to get hired again. I later landed my dream job wearing box braids.

It's a decision not unique to me, but solely unique to black women. We are routinely discriminated against for wearing our hair the way it grows out of our scalps or in styles endemic to our culture. There's no reason box braids or twists should be viewed any differently from a ponytail or bouncy blowout, and yet we're reprimanded by managers for looking too "urban" or "unkempt"—like Destiny Tompkins, who was pulled aside by her (white, female) district manager at a New York Banana Republic in 2017 for wearing box braids. She was so "uncomfortable" and "overwhelmed" she chose not to finish her shift.

The list goes on: In 2010, Chastity Jones said she was let go from an Alabama insurance-claims-processing company for wearing her hair in dreadlocks. The courts at the time ruled it wasn't racial discrimination because hair wasn't an "immutable" (i.e., unchangeable) characteristic. Or take Rachel Sakabo, an experienced employee at New York City's prestigious St. Regis hotel who claimed she was let go in 2013 after being told she wasn’t a “good fit” with the brand's “culture," a decision she'd attributed to her locs.

These are just the viral stories. A recent study from Dove found that black women are 50 percent more likely to be sent home or to know a black woman who has been sent home from work because of her hair. And that's if she even gets the job.

"During my first months at a major news network, one of the managers wanted to speak with the new hires to see where we saw ourselves growing within the company," says Blake, 23. "At the time my hair was in a perm rod set, so it was big and curly." She told the manager she eventually wanted to be on air, to which the manager responded: "That comes with a lot of responsibility. Your hair always has to be done and always in the same style. If you've ever taken a look at our anchors, they keep their hair clean and sleek."

Offended, yet brand-new to the company, Blake felt helpless. "I wanted to speak up. How dare she imply my natural hair was somehow the opposite of 'done' and 'clean'?" says Blake. But afraid she'd be painted as "the combative black woman," she felt silenced.

Progress is on the horizon, though. On Friday the California state assembly unanimously passed a bill banning employers from discriminating against people with natural hair. Referred to as the Crown Act and introduced by Los Angeles Democratic senator Holly Mitchell, a black woman who wears her natural hair in locs, the bill updates the state's antidiscrimination laws. California governor Gavin Newsom officially signed it into law on Wednesday, expanding the definition of racial discrimination to include "traits historically associated with race, including, but not limited to, hair texture and protective hairstyles," reports CNN.

"My vision for the bill is twofold," Mitchell tells Glamour. "First, by introducing the bill, I wanted to use it as an opportunity to educate my colleagues about the unique experience and opportunities of having black hair. I didn’t want them to see it as a negative. Because of my natural hair texture, I have the unique opportunity to wear these amazing natural hairstyles." Her second goal was to dispel the myth of what "professional hair" looks like. "Our knowledge and ideas of what’s ‘appropriate,’ what’s ‘professional,’ what’s ‘beautiful,’ are based on a very Eurocentric standard," she says. "This bill and my mere presence in presenting the bill was going to challenge that." The ultimate goal though, she says, is getting down to the brass tacks of protected class—in the workplace and in schools: "There can no longer be workplace or school dress codes or hair policies that define ‘professionalism’ in such a way that is discriminatory."

The bill follows new human rights guidelines recently passed in New York City, which according to the New York Times, deemed the targeting of people based on their hair or hairstyle at work, school, or in public spaces as racial discrimination. Carmelyn P. Malalis, commissioner and chairwoman of the New York City Commission on Human Rights, who led the charge on the guideline updates, told the Times the move was necessary because "there’s nothing keeping us from calling out these policies prohibiting natural hair or hairstyles most closely associated with black people." Under the new guidelines, people who have been discriminated against due to their hair can take legal recourse and companies can be fined up to $250,000 for violations.

CNN reports that lawmakers in other states are working on introducing legislation similar to the Crown Act. Just last week New Jersey introduced a proposal to ban hair discrimination in the workplace, housing, and public schools.

But not every act of discrimination is as blatant as getting fired or sent home. Microaggressions in school and the workplace come in as many as different ways as we wear our hair. For example, Rachael, a school counselor in California, says she once wore her natural curls in a pineapple and was told she couldn't take her I.D. photo because her hair looked "uncombed." Or take Tatiana, 26, who had a coworker comment she was "jealous" of her natural hair because "she never had to wash it." This, obviously, was not the case. "I had to calmly school her on black hair maintenance," says Tatiana. "Then she tried to touch my fro. The audacity, ignorance, and microaggressive undertones were infuriating, but for a black woman in the workplace, the only acceptable response to a situation like that is to politely excuse yourself."

Even among so-called woke companies, microaggressions are not a rare occurrence.

"Once a manager asked me to weed through résumés for an open on-camera position," says Brionna, 28. "The team member made multiple references to my own curly, natural African American hair styled in a twist-out and asked that I keep an eye out for anyone whose hair looks like mine but less 'unkempt.'"

After a few minutes of anxiety-induced spiraling, Brionna went to the bathroom to take some deep breaths, then went back to her manager. "I realized this microaggression couldn't go unchecked, and I told the boss I'd be judging candidates based on their experience, not something as banal as how they present and style their hair," she says. "I wasn't going to add to the chorus of voices telling black women that their hair, styled the way it grows out of their head, made them undeserving of professional accolades. This was the first time I realized prejudices and hair discrimination could forever alter someone's career trajectory—the whims of a racist or prejudiced decision maker shouldn't be able to impact someone's earning potential or their experiences in the professional world."

It's unclear how instances like these will be handled under the new discrimination laws, but what's obvious is that more states (and companies) need to protect black women's rights to wear their hair as they see fit. Not doing so is racial discrimination, plain and simple.

Teryn Payne is a beauty writer in Chicago. Follow her @teryn_denice.

This story has been updated to reflect that the bill was signed into law.

Originally Appeared on Glamour