I'm a happily nappy African American mom of two biracial children. Glad to see you here. Come on in, have a seat, and I’ll fix you a tall glass of iced tea. Let’s talk about this thing called a nappy kitchen.What does ‘Kitchen’ Mean?
I’ve been asked for the longest by my White mommy friends the meaning of a “kitchen” in reference to their Biracial daughters’ hair. Although flavors of opinion may vary, I will give you my version.
The term “kitchen” has a double meaning.
Home-wise, the kitchen was where, when I was growing up, most little Black girls spent a good portion of their Saturdays getting their hair pressed (straightened with a hot comb) for church and the school week. Most of the women of the house, sometimes even the neighborhood women, gathered here during this ritual.
This ritual was seen a NECESSARY EVIL.
ABC’s ‘The View‘ did not have anything on Big Mama, Miss Lizzy, and the rest of the women in the kitchen. They talked about how Mrs. Dora could go about ‘getting rid of‘ Mr. Willie who was so abusive to her. They talked about who was ‘good White folk’ to work for and who was to be avoided, if possible. They talked about how Lisa Ann was getting too ‘fast‘ and how June Bug was getting too ‘mannish‘; and what to do about it. They talked about how Betty Jo was going to escape wandering hands at home and how to keep Kevin away from the influence of the neighborhood boys.
The kitchen was a place of intimacy, ups, downs, and making it through another day.
Hair-wise, the kitchen is the hair at the nape of you neck. The kitchen is what most Black and Biracial girls fret about the most. They work very hard and futilely to straighten, shave off, or hide their nappy kitchen. The kitchen is the area that is most resistant to straighteners.
It is also the first area to, once finally straightened, get nappy again.
Henry Louis Gates, Jr. (Skip Gates) is a noted Harvard University professor. He wrote and produced the PBS documentary called ‘African American Lives‘ and the book ‘Finding Oprah’s Roots,’ both exploring genetics, genealogy, and race. In his memoir, Colored People, he addresses the issue of the kitchen, stating:
“The kitchen was permanent, irredeemable, invincible kink. Unassimilably African. No matter what you did, no matter how hard you tried, nothing could de-kink a person’s kitchen. So you trimmed it off as best you could. When hair had begun to “turn,” as they’d say, or return to its natural kinky glory, it was the kitchen that turned first.”
I believe the kitchen is hardheaded, unruly, persistent, stubborn, resistant, wayward, steadfast, indomitable, unconquerable, relentless, unyielding … proud.
I also believe that the kitchen wants two things from us: to be loved unconditionally and to be accepted unconditionally.
My kitchen seems to speak to me saying, “I am what I am.”
I happen to agree with it … and I’m happy with that …
– Nappy Kitchen
Gates, Jr., Henry Louis. Colored People: A Memoir. 1st ed. New York, NY: Knopf, 1994. 42-42.
December 1st, 2008 at 00:13
Having no childhood experiences of being in the Kitchen as you describe it, I was however, privileged enough to be invited into many Kitchens later in my lifetime. Your list of qualities resonate deeply with my own interloper’s experience and I am brought back to the steamy windows or the oscillating fan depending on the season, pots bubbling on the stove, cd players in the background, the score of our dominoes game scratched out on paper bags, the smell of hair products and the sound of laughter, the presence of babies and grannies, of naturals and weaves all mixed up in one room. I am reminded of being at once humbled, teased, consoled and accepted exactly as we came, for who we were. You might want your hair looking good, but knew that you were loved even when your sh*t wasn’t right.
I also knew, as a white woman and an outsider, that the moment I was invited into the kitchen, I had been accepted into the fold. I learned the secrets of ‘good hair’ and ‘bad hair’ and I learned to finally notice the fuzzy, springy curls that started sprouting around the straightened hairline. I learned how to actually wash and condition and tame and even braid a little girl’s hair so that I could care for my step-niece, my god daughters and the daughters of my friends.
But it was here that I also learned to cook family recipes, learned the stories of generations and their migration from Jim Crow through Civil Rights, I learned the running man and the butterfly, I was taught the difference between AKAs and Deltas, I learned how to slap bones and I learned that I should never, ever show up to church unless I am wearing a proper suit. I learned to relieve the itching of tight braids by tap-tap-tapping my scalp. I learned how to laugh at myself and love myself at the same time. I learned that I too, blonde as I am, have “BBS” (black booty syndrome) and I finally had a name for why my jeans fit my ass but were too big in the waist. I learned that we all have our own “kinky kitchen” and that, try as we might, it was always gonna be there – no matter what you do.
But mostly, by being in the Kitchen, I learned that the richness of the Kitchen tradition – of gathering and grooming, of bonding and being humbled and held to the community standards and hopes – has sustained generations of women just by always being there and when something is there to believe in, to count on, to return to, to feel a part of, this becomes a part of your history, your own personal legacy. And what a gift this is.
I love your blog. Thanks for sharing what you do!
December 7th, 2008 at 19:11
No offense to you, Brooke…that’s a very eloquent story you shared. But allow me to say this as nicely as possible.
You will never know the experience of being a minority female in this world.
I happen to be a multiracial American woman of Caribbean ancestry. I look like a white woman, for the most part. That hasn’t stopped racists of ALL colors and ethnicities from dishing out their hate.
I’m not accepted by anyone…black, white, or Hispanic. I don’t identify with black American culture because I am not African-American, per se, and the things that you described are unique to African-American culture. I think it is safe to say that without generalizing.
While you were bonding with your black female friends, did it ever cross your mind that not every woman of color has this lovely experience that you speak of?
Many of us grow up being made to feel ashamed of our hair and what we look like. Can you honestly say the same?
Yes, women of all backgrounds have insecurities about certain physical attributes. It sounds like you had fun but you only experienced a fraction of black culture, a small glimpse into the world of a few black women. I’m positive that you don’t experience the daily indignities that most women, like me, who are considered “black” have to deal with.
Being a woman of color is more than perceived cultural activities. It is not all braids and sunshine. It is about having to smile when people disrespect you on a daily basis. It is about swallowing back the tears when people from both sides hate you because your skin’s too white and your hair’s too nappy. It is about some white heifer believing in her inherent superiority and black women who reject you because you’re just different. It is having other minorities adopt racist attitudes towards you because they want to be closer to white. It is having painful poison applied to your hair, as well as to your psyche, in the name of being “beautiful”. In the hopes of being as “pretty” as women who are upheld as the ideal of beauty…because African hair is viewed as ugly and dirty.
I noticed that one of the things that you said was that you were “privileged” to be invited to share in a few of these “kitchen” experiences. Privilege being the operative word here. Hanging out with a few black women and doing hair doesn’t mean anything if you don’t actually try to see the world through the eyes of ALL types of black and biracial women. There is so much more to it than that.
What is your “kinky kitchen”? According to you, we all have one. But the reality is that because you are a white woman and accepted as such, your “kitchen” is invisible and nonexistent to everyone who looks at you. To those of us who visibly bear the marks of “ethnic” traits in a society that stereotypes women of color in the most repulsive ways, it is not that simple.
I apologize if you were offended by what I said…but it needed to be said. If you really care about multicultural issues at all, you will think about this and not be offended. Don’t feel that this is a personal attack. It is not intended to be one. I simply felt that you were attempting to be deep while sharing a personal experience, but you still don’t understand that what many women of color experience is very real. It is not this wonderful supportive sisterhood where we can all meet, do hair, and be happy. You had fun and it was an awesome learning experience…plain and simple. Don’t deny that you still see yourself as being worlds apart and very different from those women racially and culturally. You still have a lot of learning to do.
There is more to a young black or biracial girl’s hair than knowing how to implement proper care. What you need to realize is that most women of color have been told that they are not beautiful, especially black women. When a young girl can believe in herself and love her hair in its natural state (or if it is relaxed), that is beautiful.
If you want to debate what I’ve said, feel free.
December 7th, 2008 at 20:03
I would also like to add that being devalued because of skin color and hair type is something that happens OFTEN to minority women. Some of us hurt one another in this way, too.
If you were a minority woman, you would know what I’m talking about. I’m not trying to take the joy out of your experience…I’m simply saying don’t blind yourself to the harsh reality of the world. You are a blonde white woman…you’re basically acceptable in the eyes of most. Don’t kid yourself about being part of some sisterhood with “ethnic” women when you don’t know the deal. As a woman of partial African ancestry, I know that I will always be viewed as inferior by the majority of people. I don’t accept that but it is reality. I know that my hair is not considered “normal” or “beautiful” because all the relaxers in the world have not been able to hide my naps.
It has only been since meeting my fiance, who by coincidence happens to be white, that I’m starting to appreciate my hair a little bit. He loves how thick and full it is. I’ve been called some of the worst names you can imagine because of my hair…think about it. He loves my ivory complexion, the curls in my hair, and the curve of my hips. He had never been with anything but Hispanic or white women before we met. Despite having lived in Brazil with his missionary parents, he had never been able to see the beauty in African hair or features.
I think that the so-called “kitchen” is actually a metaphor for racism. It is the ugly underside that no one wants to see or talk about. It has to be covered up and straightened into submission.
December 10th, 2008 at 12:19
Wow, Nappy Biracial Chick hit the nail on the head, you know these issues that we have are not being addressed by mainstream black leaders, maybe they seem too superficial in the face of real economic problems. but… maybe it’s time that new organizations be formed, that deal with the smaller issues that people of color experience, in an attempt to educate whites about our differences and our collective woes. nappy biracial chick what you said was right on, they will never fully know what it is like, in fact I question how easy it will be to get them to admit to understanding the effects of their racist beliefs, when by doing so would arouse deep feelings of guilt, ironically, most of them go through life thinking they are decent people. To truly understand the atrocities and the evils that whites have inflicted upon people of color worldwide would shake up their complacent little lives. Not to mention strip them of their status, because to be white means to be a class of privelege above everyone else. Most of them don’t realize that their material wealth comes from the systematic explotation of lands of people in Africa, Asia, and North and South America. There is a collective denial of their actions in history; slavery, colonialism, segregation, lynching, and genocide can all be traced right to their great great great grandparents. Unforturantely, Generation X’s and Y’s are still dealing with the leftoevers of racist/segregationist mentalities handed down to white folks through the generations. Greater conscious communication and education needs to occur to help them truly understand, they won’t like it, but it has to occur at some point – but they will hate it!! Regarding the way people of color treat one another, there should be a national forum that deals with our unconsciousness regarding the way we treat each other. We take on the very same racist/ classist biases that the oppressors have imposed on us, the self hatred and heartlessness proves that we are unconscious about how racism shapes the way we treat ourselves, hurting one another because of our differences in skin color and hair texture is insane, we need to cure our insanity.
December 10th, 2008 at 13:03
I am happy to see a white person sharing her experience with us though, that is rare, and we shouldn’t attack those ALLIES that choose to want to be a part of our experience. It’s just hard though because we have so much pain in our history, it is difficult to welcome white folks that want to bond with us for whatever reason. We have to learn how to create positive relations with our white allies too, but that is a process to say the least…
January 2nd, 2009 at 09:29
Rainbow, I was not attacking Brooke…
I was simply showing her a different perspective. A more realistic view of what happens in the lives of women of color.
I love most white people. I’m definitely not some bitter close-minded individual. Did I not say that I, as a biracial woman, have also been a victim of black racism?
However, one person talking like she is part of some sisterhood does not immediately make her “cool” in my book. Anyone can make statements that sound positive and uplifting…is there actual sincerity behind the words?
It is interesting that you overlooked what I was trying to say to her and viewed it as some sort of personal attack. I don’t hate white people in the least. I don’t view them as evil and I don’t hold them responsible for all the ills of society.
What I said (and what Allegra seemed to understand somewhat) is that Brooke, as a white woman, might feel a superficial connection with black women…but she is still unaware of issues that could provide deeper insight into the black woman’s mind/heart. Physical appearance is often a part of female identity and in this world, who is often devalued the most? And in what way? To speak the truth, not simply my opinion, is not an attack.
There is relevance and truth to what I said. She shared her experience, yes…she writes beautifully and eloquently. But she also failed to talk about things that really matter in the context of race, beauty, and female identity. My criticism was not of her as an individual since I don’t know her personally. Rather, it was about the absence of real reflection that I noticed in her writing.
You simply cannot talk about hair when dealing with women of African descent WITHOUT touching on certain issues. There’s no way around it. You don’t have to actually be a minority woman, but you should at least know that hair is often a complex and painful issue, like skin color.
THAT is what I was trying to say. It is nice to hear a tale of solidarity, but it would also be refreshing if some people would actually admit certain truths instead of always putting a positive spin on things.
I don’t know about you, Rainbow, but I’ve never sat in anyone’s kitchen or beauty shop surrounded by the stuff she speaks of. It might happen in some cases…but that was not my experience. I have literally been tormented by all kinds of people because of my hair type and skin color. I’ve been told that I had “nigger hair” by both whites AND minorities. I know I’m not the only one. Why is it not politically correct to discuss those experiences and work through them? From my perspective, that is how true understanding starts. It is not my intention to attack her or make her feel guilty for being a white female.
It IS my intention to open her eyes and make her see things for what they are.
Until she can talk about the way people devalue women of color and uplift white women like herself in real life, there is no room for discussion.
I’m sorry…this is not intended to be offensive. I simply tell it like it is.
January 12th, 2009 at 20:05
LOL great post!
April 21st, 2009 at 19:54
Nappy Biracial Chick – you have some serious issues. You need a 1000+ words to say all of ‘I’m an angry BLACK (that’s what you are regardless of what mind game you’ve been playing with yourself) woman who doesn’t love my hair or my skin’. It’s not them, honey…it’s YOU. Your monolouge bleeds self-hatred. Think about it.
May 30th, 2009 at 21:25
To Nappy Biracial Chick:
Brooke probably doesn’t care whether or not you think she’s “cool” in your book. She has had the benefit of being friends with apparently friendly, lovely women who don’t look at every interaction as some kind of devaluing attack. As Also Biracial noted, it’s crystal clear that you have many issues with yourself and your perceptions of the world. Maybe if you didn’t look for “torment” or “devaluation” around every corner, you’d be a lot happier. Failing that, try therapy.
Lighten up! (ha)
May 30th, 2009 at 21:33
Oh, and Brooke? Honey, you’re welcome in my kitchen anytime. Nappy can’t come, though, because she’d take everything personally without finding any joy in the simple things.
October 30th, 2009 at 21:51
I am white. Not every white American is descended from colonists – far from it. My ancestors – and many other white Americans’ – were common people, peasants, who often suffered from problems in their own lands. If you think only people in the Americas, Asia and Africa were oppressed and exploited, read about Ireland, Russia, Armenia, Poland; also, Hungary, Bulgaria, Romania, etc…
Also, I may be white, but I was the only girl in my grade school class with naturally curly hair (brown, of course), and brown eyes. I was told that I “should” have blue eyes and that I had “dog” hair, or “horse” hair.
I also suffer from Asperger’s Syndrome, a part of which is neurological and spatial problems. I have had to smile, or pretend to laugh at myself, so many times, when I would trip, bump into things, or walk clumsily, and others – usually girls – would snicker and giggle. I can still feel my cheeks burn with shame, and how my throat hurt from trying not to cry. And I was always called all sorts of names: dumb, fat, oaf, idiot, lazy, stupid, pig, horse, dog, cow….add to that social difficulties, such as not being able to make eye contact, not understanding cues, and personal traits, such as poor fashion sense, interests that were different from most other kids’, and just plain being quiet and reserved, and I was an easy target, both from kids who knew me, and ones who didn’t. And I lived in a small town I could never escape from, so I always thought the whole world was like that.
Fortunately, some things have changed. I still have Asperger’s (along with certain psychological problems that resulted from my upbringing), but I have found good thereapists, social workers, and other people who care about others, and have more depth and sensitivity than to harass people who are different from them.
Why I am I telling you all this? I’m not trying to “relate” with you on any cultural or racial basis – I have none. What I am trying to say is that other people – yes, even whites – know the sting of personal insults, of ostracization and harassment just for being alive. Racism is serious, valid, real, and inexcusable – but so is all cruelty.
I don’t know if you’ll read all this, or understand, or care. That’s O.K. No law says you have to. I just wanted to share (and yes, vent a little) another side of things.
O.K., if you’ve come this far, thank you for reading.
LOL, Kristine
July 29th, 2010 at 10:51
[...] hair, and this suffering was how I was supposed to get it. If ever my kitchen (you know what the kitchen is) was even remotely curly, my Mom was quick on the draw. “Um, what’s goin’ on [...]
August 14th, 2010 at 12:37
[...] 1. She probably grew up having her hair fried with a straightening comb every week as a child before she was deemed “old enough” at age 8 or 9 to have her hair coated with toxic chemicals for 30 minutes every month in order to straighten it, with particular attention paid to straightening the “naps” in her ““kitchen”. [...]