On a peaceful day at the zoo, I found myself balancing our infant son and preschool-aged daughter while my oldest walked alongside us. As we paused to decide our next stop, it happened again.
A white woman, likely in her late fifties or early sixties, turned to my preschooler, perched on my hip. “Your hair is simply gorgeous!” she exclaimed. In what felt like slow motion, her hand reached toward my daughter’s curly ponytail.
In an instant, I reacted, blocking her hand with my shoulder. The woman appeared taken aback but persisted, attempting again to touch my daughter’s styled hair. I sidestepped her reach before she could make contact.
Since my children began to speak, I’ve instilled in them a simple mantra: “Do not touch my hair. I do not like it.” It pains me that such a lesson is necessary, yet we’ve faced repeated instances where strangers, often white adults, compliment my children’s hair and then attempt to pet them. Yes, I said pet.
I find it absurd (call me unreasonable) that a stranger should feel entitled to touch a child. It’s just inappropriate and awkward, contradicting a fundamental lesson we should all impart to our children: their bodies are their own.
For some inexplicable reason, white adults often feel comfortable using their adult size and status to reach out to my kids. It doesn’t matter whether my children sport an afro, braids, or a simple ponytail; the hair-touchers are relentless and shameless.
I understand that white individuals may be curious about black hair. Before becoming a parent, I had never touched black hair myself, likely because I was taught manners. I understood not to invade someone else’s personal space.
These encounters don’t just occur in isolated settings. We’ve experienced hair-touching incidents in restroom lines, at Target checkout, during school events, at the library, even while ordering food at restaurants.
Here’s the bottom line: my children are not here to satisfy anyone’s curiosity. This isn’t a petting zoo—there’s no open invitation to touch. My children are individuals, complete with feelings, deserving of personal space and privacy.
Moreover, hands can be unsanitary. I’ve witnessed numerous adults leave restrooms without washing their hands. Who knows where those hands have been before they reach out to touch my children’s hair?
Given the current societal climate, where we frequently hear stories of white individuals overstepping boundaries in black communities—be it at barbecues, on college campuses, or coffee shops—you’d think the hair-touching would diminish. Yet it persists, and it must stop. This behavior qualifies as a microaggression, and it’s unacceptable.
If you admire a black child’s hairstyle, offer a compliment—but never presume you have the right to touch them. Avoid interrogating the child with remarks like, “How long did that take? I could never sit still for that long!” (Newsflash: we don’t care about your hypothetical discomfort during a black hairstyling session.)
It’s 2023. Please respect my child of color by keeping your hands and words to yourself. For more information on respectful interactions, you can check out this excellent resource on treating infertility and for insights on home insemination, consider visiting this guide on at-home insemination kits.
Summary
This article addresses the inappropriate and invasive behavior of white adults touching black children’s hair without consent. It emphasizes the importance of teaching children about personal space and respect while highlighting the broader context of microaggressions faced by black individuals.