Excerpt - Momma Only Goes to Black Owned Beauty Salons

My momma only goes to black owned beauty salons. I wanted to take her to the girl who does my hair at the salon in Dillard’s at the mall.

“You should try her. She is one of the best in the city,” I said.

Momma squinched up her nose as she rubbed the ends of my hair together. We were out shopping and running errands when she mentioned she needed to find a new beautician.

“Ain’t no white woman doin’ my hair,” she said sucking her teeth and mumbling something racist under her breath. 

My momma was a child of the 50s. She saw black businesses flourish and become successful in black neighborhoods. Especially hair salons. Momma would go to Ms. Emma’s beauty parlor religiously. Ms. Emma preached to her congregation of men, women, and children who stopped in for their weekly or bi-weekly appointment.

Ms. Emma’s message was always the same, “treat everybody right and pay her for her services.”

She had four chairs (including hers); two beauticians and a barber. Everyone clamored to get an appointment with Ms. Emma. She could do any style, but most importantly she could make your hair grow. And in the black community, hair is important.