Express Yourself: Sharing Our Hair Story

When my doctoral classmates circled the virtual room sharing their project ideas, I held back until the end. I listened closely as they spoke about sports, mental health, and personal freedom.

When it was finally my turn, I connected their projects to mine—and then asked one question:

“How much did you think about your hair today?”

It surprised my Agenda Setting professor—a white man from a different generation— who thought I might be asking because he had just gotten a haircut. I laughed when he told me that later. He wasn’t offended; he was intrigued. And that reaction confirmed for me that the question had done its job—sparking curiosity, not judgment. That was the point. My question wasn’t really about him—it was meant to provoke all of us to consider the social, cultural, and political weight our hair carries.

Because here’s the thing: anyone, regardless of age, ethnicity, or gender, knows what it feels like to have a bad hair day. For some, that means shrinkage, taming curls, or fighting humidity; for others, it’s noticing hair thinning or balding as the years go by—or even following a health challenge. That universal experience—feeling self-conscious or second-guessing yourself because of how your hair looks—makes hair a powerful entry point into bigger conversations about identity, confidence, culture, and freedom.

Beyond Hair Discrimination

I gave a quick background on the conversation around natural hair discrimination, but I wanted to push us further. For me, it’s not just about laws it’s about the quiet, everyday choices people like me make before we walk into a room.

Laws can protect against unfair treatment, but they don’t erase the daily calculus many of us perform:

• Will I be perceived as professional?

• Approachable? Too bold? Too “different”?

And in some ways, my consideration of hair is no different than someone who once proudly wore a mullet, or those who rushed to salons in the ’90s to get “the Rachel.”

Styles come and go, but for many of us, hair isn’t just about fashion—it’s about whether our choices will be accepted, judged, or even penalized in spaces where expression and professionalism collide.

My Hair Journey

Since childhood, I’ve loved experimenting—an influence of my maternal grandmother, who adored wigs and wore her hair blonde for years.

I’ve tried it all: Jheri curls, braids, relaxed, straightened, wigs, weave. For a while, my favorite was a sleek pixie cut, though eventually I had to let it go when I started working out regularly. And I’ll admit—I love a good bob.

But here’s the harder truth: for nearly 30 years I let other people’s expectations of “professional” shape my hair choices. That meant trading what I loved for what I thought would be safer, more acceptable—and that’s a kind of compromise I still feel today.

That quiet pressure influenced everything—from whether I kept my pixie to whether I wore braids or wigs. It still shows up today in how people react differently when my hair is natural versus straightened or covered.

A lot of these choices were shaped by what I saw and heard growing up. Because here’s the truth: our attitudes toward hair start at home and in our social circles.

They’re formed in kitchens, beauty shops, and living rooms—as well as in our neighborhoods, classrooms, and playgrounds. Compliments, critiques, and casual comments tell us what’s “acceptable,” what’s “too much,” and what’s “beautiful.” And those standards aren’t always consistent.

Hair as Culture and Identity

Beyond the personal, hair is cultural.

Styles carry history, tradition, and pride. Braids, locs, twists, afros—these aren’t just fashion choices. They’re cultural markers passed down through generations, carrying meaning, memory, and resilience.

They’re also 80s hard rock big hair and 90s punk rock spikes—proof that hair has always been about identity, community, and connection.

That cultural weight is why hair discrimination feels so sharp. It’s not just about looks—it’s about belonging, acceptance, and authenticity.

From Classroom to Workplace

The class’s reaction to my project idea was affirming. One colleague, who coaches a girls’ sports team, had an “aha” moment about how hair expectations affect some of his athletes. My professor encouraged me to share my research more broadly.

And here’s the truth: as a professional in corporate America, I’ve had countless conversations with colleagues about how appearance—and particularly our hair—is received differently depending on whether it’s straightened, natural, braided, short, long, or colored.

The compliments, the comments, the subtle shifts in perception all tell a story about workplace bias, norms, and belonging.

And these conversations have the potential to affect our whole health. The stress of conforming, the self-consciousness of being judged, or the relief of feeling seen all shape our mental, emotional, and even physical well-being.

A Personal Freedom Conversation

That’s why I don’t see this as just a legal conversation. I see it as a personal freedom conversation.

• The freedom to show up as we are without explanation or compromise.

• The freedom to express culture and creativity without penalty.

• The freedom to focus on what really matters—not on whether our curls, coils, colors, or kinks will be accepted.

Because hair is never just hair. It’s personal, cultural, political, and deeply human.

And whether it’s a mullet, “the Rachel,” a bob, a buzz cut, or even balding, we all know what it means to have a “hair story.”

Real freedom comes when every story is honored.

Reflection Questions

So, what’s your own “hair story?”

• How does your relationship with your hair shape your confidence, stress level, or sense of peace?

• Have you ever adjusted your hairstyle to fit someone else’s definition of professionalism or belonging—and what impact did that have on your wellbeing?

• In what ways does hair—yours or others’—become a form of cultural expression, resilience, or healing?

With gratitude,

Dr. Melanie