Beauty and the Bonnet
There is a debate raging in the African American
community regarding bonnets. For those who don’t know, a bonnet is also
referred to as a sleep cap; something worn at night to protect our hair from
fabrics known to draw oils from our hair. My bonnet has a name: Cap-o-Beauty
(Butay). We are dear friends, but our friendship is between us and those who
live in my household.
Comedian Monique recently posted a serious piece about
bonnets being worn in public. Her concern was for the lesson we are teaching
our young people, especially young girls, about taking pride in their
appearance, loving themselves, and our responsibility as adults to speak up and
help young women when we see this taking place in a public space. She stressed that she wasn't referring to religious head coverings or ethnic head wraps, still the pushback
was swift and fierce. There are three camps: Teach Monique, Stay out of my Business, and This is Silly, There are Bigger Problems.
I am camp Teach Monique. Yes, there are much bigger
problems to deal with: voting rights being stripped away, Black Lives Matter, social
justice inequities, pipeline to prison, education, etc. A discussion about
bonnets may sound silly, but it is emblematic of a much deeper problem not just
in the African American community, but in our society at large. We have lost
our grace and elegance. I am not speaking of economic status or class. What I
am speaking of is our ability to carry ourselves with pride and dignity.
My mother used a term that I thought she made up:
Slubborn. She would chide us and say, “stop looking so slubborn.” As it turns
our slubborn is defined as a combination of “stubborn” and “slovenly”. We are
slubborn when we intentionally and stubbornly don’t care how we look when we
leave the house. Recently, I finally came out of my COVID bubble, ventured to a
local mall and wanted to cry. Bonnets, pajamas, slippers, braless (DD+ should
never go without support) and too small booty shorts. WHAT HAS HAPPENED?
I grew up poor, as did many of my neighborhood
friends. What my mother taught me was to take pride in myself, take care of
what I did have, keep myself and my clothes clean, and most of all, when I
leave the house know that I represent parents and elders. Momma did not have fine
clothes and jewelry, but you would never know it. She carried herself with
class and elegance; nails always polished, hair neat and clothes clean and
pressed. She set the standard and we followed her example. My friends were
raised the same way.
Depression and poor self-esteem manifests itself in a varity of ways. One is our appearance. Why is this important? Because many important conversations
are taking place in our nation and as African Americans, we must be at the
table. Would you take someone seriously who came to the proverbial table in a bonnet and
bedroom slippers? Stop lying, no, you would not. We have vital things to
contribute, we are educated, articulate and our voices must be heard. Even if
you never finished school, are unemployed, have a house full of kids, you don’t
have to look like your circumstances. Lest anyone think I am picking on a
particular socio-economic population; I have seen luxury cars pull up to Walmart
with women wearing bonnets and slippers. It needs to stop.
Just like we implore your young men to pull up their pants, the same applies to how we as women present ourselves; take pride again in our appearance. If we as adult women set the standard, young women and girls will follow. Each one reach one and teach one.
