Earlier this year, I wrote about Beyoncé’s politically charged Super Bowl performance and the scandal that arose in its wake. Half the world praised her for giving Black empowerment a moment in the media, while the other half branded her a racist and threatened to boycott her music.
Beyoncé made no apologies and paid no heed to the angry mob. Instead, she later followed up the performance with the release of Lemonade. Since its release, the album has inspired critical acclaim, a whole new host of pop culture references… and the witch hunt for one very elusive “Becky”.
In her song Sorry, Beyoncé stated:
He only want me when I’m not there He better call Becky with the good hair
Brilliantly Bad Decision
In hopes of capitalising on the spotlight thrown on Beyoncé yet again, two staffers of Glamour devised a brilliantly terrible plan. They fired back at Beyoncé’s Becky with the Good Hair by posting:

I had to see it to believe it. I couldn’t believe that anyone living in a multicultural society, like America or the UK, could be so bloody clueless as to why this would be inappropriate.
The responses on social media further brought perhaps the biggest embarrassment any lifestyle and entertainment brand has faced in quite some time.
Glamour Magazine is not Alone
But I would soon learn that Glamour staffers weren’t the only ones who didn’t quite get it. Many people actually have no idea what this means.
The following day, while Michael and I drove back from the gym, I asked him if he had heard about the incident.
To put things into context here, let me just inject the necessary detail that my husband is White.
Michael raps, has more Black friends than I do, and knows more about Ebonics than I will ever care to learn. Yet, even he was clueless as to why the article was offensive, and as to what on Earth the phrase “Becky with the good hair meant”.
“Isn’t that the whole thing about Jay-Z cheating on Beyoncé?” he asked me.
“Becky isn’t the point. Don’t you know what ‘good hair’ means?” I asked incredulously.
He didn’t.
It was at that moment that I had to step back and re-evaluate what I believed should have been common knowledge and fairly obvious. After all, I come from a predominantly Black country, whereas America is… well… America.
So let me explain why this is not just another minority-tantrum like the many that make it through the media.The History Lesson
Of all the angry tweets directed at Glamour, this one summed up the root of the problem best.

The keywords here are “historical significance”. This is because the phrase good hair wasn’t coined by Beyoncé for Lemonade, or even by 90s rap. It’s been a part of the Black Movement and the Black struggle since the days of slavery, and is deeply rooted in the journey of Black women (and men) from properties to human beings.
To keep slaves compliant, they were taught that their natural features made them somehow less worthy of rights and freedoms than other races. This primarily included the colour of their skin, and the texture of their hair. Coincidentally, these are the two most distinguishing features of what it means to be Black.
After slavery, as civil rights movements took shape and Blacks received their first chance of assimilating into regular society, these differences posed a problem. But while Black skin brought no inherent inconveniences besides people’s personal biases, Black hair did.
Let me explain how.
The Struggle is Real
For most Black women, our hair is still a part of that daily struggle – especially in an era where personal appearances mean so much. Our friends of other ethnic groups and mixes can easily throw their hair into a ponytail in five seconds. But our frizzy hair obeys no law and no man.
Even in the corporate world, many of us are forced to ditch our natural hair, because corporate thinks our kinky locks are too naughty for regular business operations. And at my Catholic school, every ethnic hair-do was banned in the rule books, and as we tried new ones – like my signature Mickey Mouse puffs in seventh grade – those were quickly outlawed, too.
But ironically, the people who notice our hair the most? – is us. While other teenagers mostly worried about body image issues and acne, we worried about that and our hair. Maybe mostly our hair.
Many of us have tried everything – perms, presses, cornrows, braids, and just cutting the damn thing off. Sometimes we’ve done so much crap to it, it just falls off on its own…
And all of that to conform to what regular society decides is good hair – which is essentially not our stubborn kinky hair. Good hair is the Black Community’s bitterly-spoken name for obedient, soft, silky smooth locks of the Mixed, the Asians, Latinas, and of course White folks.
It’s worry-free hair; the hair of the models they put in Pantene ads, and the girls on Pinterest with an effortless bun on the top of their heads.
In contrast, our naturally dry, frizzy hair is bad hair. We are taught from an early age through dolls, school rules, corporate expectations, and the media that our genetically gifted natural hair is not sufficient, fashionable, or appropriate.
To soften the message, the media often puts forward an image that kinky (or nappy hair) looks like this:
This is true to an extent, but more accurately, this is what African hair looks like when a woman is mixed. In other words, if Michael and I had a daughter, she would likely have a similar hair type to either of these two women. Often times, these hair-types become grouped with good hair because it’s “less Black”.
But for most of us, our hair looks a bit more like this:
Imagine trying to get hair that kinky to meet society’s professional, beautiful, and neat standards, like these Beckys with the Good Hair.

And then imagine the overwhelming pressure to meet these expectations. We quite literally get chemical burns from relaxers and heat burns from press combs just trying to keep up. As one tweep summed it up nicely:

The Way Forward
Of course, things are changing now. Many corporations “allow” us to wear our natural hair without causing a fuss. I, for instance, wore my dreadlocks when I worked at Xerox Business Services.
Similarly, many magazines, fashion shows, and movies also feature Black women who embrace their natural heritage; whether they have bad hair, good hair or something in-between.
As we grow older we learn what works for us, and we accept that we’ll just have to spend more time and more money on making our bad hair good enough to meet societal expectations.
In fact, Beyoncé made a strong statement by refusing to chemically alter her daughter’s hair – at least, not yet. However, when that same Queen Bey – the most powerful female symbol in the Black Community – hires a team to make her look like a Becky with the Good Hair, you know we still have a ways to go…




Let me just say, this was such an interesting read! I honestly haven’t ever really given much thought to this topic before and like your husband I didn’t totally understand the Beyonce lyric before. I just assumed it referred to a “prettier” girl. But it is really eye opening to hear about how deep the hair issue goes for most black women. Thank you for shining a light and opening my eyes. Well put 🙂
Thank you so much. I’m glad it was both interesting and informative, and that’s it’s put things into perspective for you going forward.
This is a very inciteful take on an interesting and controversial topic. In my opinion, we (as people) should embrace who we are and what we have to offer. No two people are exactly alike and that is for good reason; to eliminate the need for comparison.
Funny enough, I was just thinking about my hair today. I love my hair and not because its natural, but because its mine. All hair is “good hair” as far as I’m concerned because it is your own just like your experiences and mindset. Its part of what makes you who you are. So forget “Becky” and her “good hair”. It is irrelevant in the fact that hair is hair. The past is just that; the past. Your future is now and how you live it.
Thank you. I completely agree with you, but until some of the systematic pressure is removed, it’s hard to embrace our hair as is.
The post is less about the aesthetic struggle with black hair, and more about the politics behind it. We can accept our hair as beautiful, but society also needs to accept it as appropriate for business and school.
I fought tooth and nail to wear my hair as I like. But as many of the comments on the post reveal, not everyone has this privilege, much less the right…
I agree with that. That’s why I’m glad people are working toward tearing down those expectations and exposing the political struggle. The more people are forced to acknowledge the history, the more likely it is they’ll come face-to-face with actual change. Keep moving forward, Alex, and continue writing. I look forward to reading. 🙂
Thank you! I’ll do my best to keep the knowledge flowing.
You ve said it all! Nice article👏
Thank you!
I loved reading this post really interesting. When I heard the lyrics from Beyonce I instantly know what she meant, I was not offended it just confirmed to me that she’s gone back to her ”black side” and used typical things said in the black community to make a point. What I loved about this post as well , is that it is in a way highlighting that natural black African coily hair is beautiful. As a black British born women who after maybe 20 years of chemically straightening her hair to fit and gave up on that and went natural almost a year ago I love the post for this fact and the truths in it especially around natural hair and the corporate world. 6 months ago I chopped off my chin length straight ” good hair” bob to an inch long crop and rock my natural coils and love it! Forget what society wants to promote as ” good hair” and if an employer can’t look at my ability to do a job, rather than how I express my self love through my natural hair then I don’t want to work for them!
Thank you Kim. I’m glad you got the message that black hair is beautiful as well. That’s one of the reasons I posted a picture of me with my dreadlocks. It’s perfectly possible to find a look that suits us, whatever it is.
The tough part about a job though is that the opinion of who’s hiring you might not necessarily reflect the company’s values on a whole. Thus, it can be hard to just say to hell with the job when you know other people have made it past that obstacle. Haven’t had to deal with that so far though, but I’m preparing myself for it.
So true and it’s a shame that the hiring person is so small minded in those situations. All we can do is hope that society starts to realise that as us women on black origin whether it be African or Caribbean embrace our beautiful natural self more often that views on what’s ” good hair” or beautiful shift. Here’s hoping.
Agreed. The change does start with us though. The more ashamed we are of our natural hair, the more leverage we give to other people to make us feel that way.
I really liked this post so much…………..!
Thank you! I’m glad you did. 🙂
I am quite late to this party but it’s a moment where I am dumbfounded to only now learn something that is obviously a huge deal and I am compelled to thank you and the rest of your commenters for the education during this revealing read.
Thanks for dropping by and reading. Always glad to help educate a few people in my corner of the internet. I’m glad you learned something from the post and our discussion!
Loved your explanation. I think that the way some interpret that lyric goes to show what people tend to focus on…the surface.
Thanks Kristina. You’re so right. We’ve become a shallow set of people. There’s so much more to learn when we put things into context.
Exactly. But the depth of sth is of no interest to some. Why would they bother?? Too much work…
Possibly, although the success of this post makes me wonder if that’s really true or just what the media wants us to believe about ourselves to make their own jobs easier. Food for thought?
I thoroughly enjoyed this post… Alex I like the hope that you hold when you say “Hopefully this is an issue that will pass over time, especially as more interracial coupling and friendships occur”.
I am from South Africa and this is a global issue, here is my short story with this issue…. So I hook up with a white guy online whom with every pic of myself I exchanged with him he would compliment, until I changed my profile pic on my watsapp to that of me in my very short hair cut looking all cute even if I have to say so myself, however the question I got form him was “where’s you long hair”…really???? where is my long hair??? well my response was… I wasn’t any.
It became very apparent to me that my hair is already an issue with him. We still talk… now where this will end up…only our first meeting will tell.
As far as our looks are concerned the hair issue is only 50% of our battle, the other 50% is our different skin tones, hopefully Beyonce composes a track about this so I would spark another Global conversation.
Your story instantly reminded me of my mother and biological father. She did the same thing after he had seen her with long, flowing, curly hair. She cut it off randomly just as he was bringing his brother by to show off that he had a light skinned girl with long hair. He would also go into a fit when I cut mine as a teen.
Many Black people are appalled by me dating White men. They think I’m denying my Black heritage. But you know what I love about dating White men? They are the ones who love my natural hair, and never want me to chemically alter it. The first boyfriend I ever had who was excited about me quitting the relaxers for dreads was White. In fact, he encouraged me to do it. They are the ones who love the colour of my skin and don’t care if I spend too much time in the sun and get ten shades darker for a month. But Black men I dated always cared. I never understood that. When my father teased me about my preference, I asked him, “Why go where I’m just satisfactory, when I can go where I’m a Queen?”
Of course all our experiences may differ somewhat, but that’s been mine. All the best with hair guy, but I wouldn’t go there if I were you..
I am glad I stumbled upon this post. Even here in Nigeria where I come from, natural hair is still seen as inferior. For a completely black nation, it’s a veritable irony. Straight hair reigns supreme; it’s not even an option to not have it. You would think natural hair would be “allowed” in corporate offices but no, the European influence is that strong. Natural haired ladies have to hide under wigs during the week. Suffice it to say that, down here, good hair is relaxed hair (which 80% of the women sport), and bad hair is the nappy, rubbery, dry growth that sprouts naturally from our scalps. I’m glad the natural hair revolution is hitting Nigeria hard, but I still fear it might be a fad here, and fade out in time.
http://www.sincerelychibugo.com
Thank you! The natural hair revolution has hit everywhere hard, and the only way we can ensure it’s not a fad is to keep sporting it. I’ve been sporting mine since before it was “allowed”.
It is sad that even a primarily Black country in Africa of all places has that problem. Like I said, Jamaica suffers the same.
Hopefully this is an issue that will pass over time, especially as more interracial coupling and friendships occur. We will never learn through segregation, only through blending cultures and learning about each other…
Reblogged this on and commented:
No, it’s not really about Rachel Roy.