It’s just hair.

But when it stops you getting the job you’re qualified for, is it still just hair? Is it just hair when it gets your child kicked out of school simply for possessing it? What about when one look at it can prompt assumptions and stereotypes that define you as a person? Is it still just hair?

Afro hair carries the weight of centuries of tradition, identity, and discrimination.

Early discrimination began with the first European colonisers. Upon seeing Black hair for the first time, they likened it to fur or wool. Their hair was used as evidence of their ‘otherness’ laying the foundations for centuries of trauma.

These attitudes solidified throughout slavery and heightened post-abolition, when fitting into white mainstream society was paramount. Hair was a massive part of this assimilation, and extreme methods were used to manipulate Black hair into conforming to Eurocentric beauty standards, using harsh chemicals to smooth the naturally textured hair. Of course, this practice is still common today, despite the significant health risks continuing to emerge.

Can you still say it’s just hair?

In the ‘60s and ‘70s, afro hair become a political statement, a symbol of Black pride. An afro comb with a clenched fist as its handle came to represent a reclaiming of Black identity via hair, and the wider Black Power movement.

However, Black hair continued to be a powerful source of oppression. “Grooming policies” were enforced in schools, workplaces, and the military that prohibited natural Black hair styles.

A Google search today pulls up endless results of people worrying how to make their hair ‘acceptable’ in the corporate space; stories of failed interviews or pointed remarks about hair (“can I touch it?”); and reports of exclusions at schools. A couple of people in my own team have even shared their experiences in previous workplaces and in their personal lives.

“But isn’t it just like someone with piercings or tattoos?”, I’ve heard people say. “Some things just aren’t appropriate for professional settings.”

Black hair, however, isn’t like wearing shorts to a corporate office. When you’re policing a natural characteristic of Black people, this is just an extension of racism.

Attention on hair discrimination has grown in recent years, leading to positive reform in many workplaces and schools, with the help of the CROWN act in the US. But discrimination is still widespread. So, should it be made a protected characteristic under the Equality Act?

This is what the World Afro Day campaign is calling for, with spice girl Mel B a vocal spokesperson for the cause. “My big hair didn’t fit the pop star mould,” she says, recalling the pressure to straighten her hair for the Wannabe music video.

Personally, I’ve long been vocal about the shortcomings of the Equality Act in its current form. There are many notable omissions, such as classism, body modifications, body size, to name a few. A person’s appearance in general is often fertile ground for discrimination, whether that’s via fatphobia, pretty privilege, or hair type.

Any legal basis to aid the eradication of hair discrimination can only be a good thing in a wider quest for workplaces that value and accept everyone as their authentic self. But while we’re calling for reform of the Equality Act, we should be more ambitious.

Black women are among those most affected by hair discrimination and face disproportionate challenges linked to class and biases tied to physical appearance. To ensure meaningful inclusion, we should consider strengthening existing protections under the Equality Act or encourage efforts to adapt it, so that it better addresses the needs of those most impacted.

Written by Cynthia V Davis, CEO & Founder of Diversifying Group