My Craft is Not a Choice, it's My Culture

I thought I had lost my passion for crafting. Throughout my life, crafting and creativity has always been a major facet of all my hobbies and interests. Pat Catan, Jo-Ann, and Michael were some of my closest friends. In elementary school I got my first Singer brand sewing machine for Christmas, such an exciting and intricate piece of technology for a 9-year-old. With time and encouragement, my mom successfully taught me how to thread my bobbins, cut my patterns, and how to steadily control the foot pedal. I soon began creating my own clothes. I would repurpose old outfits I felt were outdated and upcycled them. I grew up during the fashion transition from bell bottoms to skinny jeans, and from low rise skirts to high waisted. and therefore I spent my weekends marking up, pinning, and cutting my purple corduroy Children’s Place bell bottoms into skinny jeans. Now the first pair, I admit was a bit too tight after forgetting to account for the seam allowance, but I got the hang of it after ruining only three pairs of perfectly good pants. Eventually, I started a small business designing and sewing doggy beds for my mom’s co-workers. I would personalize the doggy beds with iron on letters of the dog’s name. I added tassels on the corners for a bit of tug-of-war fun. And I created a small fabric tag with my initials sewn on it, J.W., for my trademark. I was so proud of what I was able to accomplish with a vision and my own two hands.

Going into middle school, my mother taught me how to knit. I began knitting, scarves, headbands, socks, hats and gifting them for any and every birthday and holiday. As I got older, I began creating with new mediums and really got interested in recycled materials. I would make jewelry out of the plastic rings from bottle caps, and I would fuse plastic grocery store bags and sew the sturdy material into wallets and purses. As I headed into my early teens, my creative pursuits were focused more on the performing arts. I played a plethora of percussion instruments throughout my life as well as the oboe for a very short, but screechy period of time. I then got into choir and theater. I was heavily influenced by Glee and joined every choir and barbershop quartet my high school had to offer. But it was musical theater that really stole my heart. I loved every opportunity to put on a period piece costume. The makeup, the hair, the tights, and the shoes I really loved it all. After graduating high school, I found it increasingly more difficult to find tangible ways to hone my creativity while balancing a healthy social life and also pursuing a degree in sociology and a minor in engineering sciences.

I began thinking back through my life and I noticed that during my late teens and early 20s, crafting had practically stopped being a major component in my life. I thought had lost my passion for crafting. I then thought to myself, well what was I doing during those years? And truth be told, I was doing a lot. I did a year studying abroad as an exchange student in Thailand when I was 15. I returned home to complete my senior year of high school. And the following year I began my freshman year of undergrad with high hoped intentions of becoming a welding engineer. These were times of radical transition in my life.

The summer of 2014 as I entered my sophomore year of undergrad, after years of growing out an edgy pixie cut, I was finally able to become more adventurous with my hair styles. I had been chemically straightening my hair since middle school. I remember begging and bargaining with my mom for my first perm, and she reluctantly obliged. During this time, YouTube was an instrumental resource for Black women’s hair care, showing which products to use for what hair type and DIY hair styling tutorials for Black hair. You name it, it was on YouTube. I figured if not now, then when? And so, I decided to take on the challenge of installing my very first sew-in hair extensions on my own.

The concept of a sew-in requires your natural hair to be braided down in a corn row style and making it as flat to the scalp as possible. You then take the extension hair, which has been stitched together securely along a weft and you then measure and cut each piece to the precise length. Then each weft is sewn onto the cornrowed braids with a curved weaving needle and cotton thread.

For those who don't know, as a Black woman, being taught or self-taught on how to properly do Black hair and hairstyles is a cultural rite of passage. So after I successfully installed my very first sew-in, I was rightfully beaming with pride. Soon after, I began almost exclusively experimenting with new protective hairstyles for Black women. I had faux locs, crochet braids, box braids, practically every month I had a new hairdo. After months of wearing these protective styles, I saw a shocking change in my hair. After taking my hair out of a crochet braided style I noticed I had about an inch or two of natural curly hair sprouting right out of my scalp. While my hair was braided and tucked away, there was no need for me to continue with my straightening perm treatments. I had inadvertently begun on my natural hair journey. After a few more months of growing out my natural hair and slowly trimming away the limp chemically straightened pieces, I had suddenly fully transitioned my hair into its natural state.

When I looked at the intersections of traditional crafting and styling of Black women’s hair, the parallels were nearly overlapping. From conception to completion these hairstyles utilize much of the same terminology, similar techniques, and quite frequently the exact tools as seen in traditional crafting mediums. The use of yarns, fabrics, scissors, glues, needles and threads, various adornments and beads are commonplace in both the worlds of Black hairstyling and in craft. Sewing machines are used to create the weft for extension hair as well as for constructing wigs. A latched crochet hook is used in many hairstyles in order to attach the extension hair safely and easily onto braided natural hair without damaging it. A knit picker tool is used to attach individual strands of hair onto a fine piece of mesh fabric to create the frontal piece for a wig, which mimics the appearance of the hair naturally coming from the scalp. And these are just a few examples of the intersections of Black hair and traditional craft.

After some time of practicing and experimenting on myself, I decided to open my skills to the public and began doing other people’s hair at my university. I offered a range of services at prices that even a broke college student would be able to afford. Having the ability to service my community wasn’t about the money. Doing their hair brought me joy, it allowed me to connect with people that I probably wouldn’t have interacted with otherwise. I was able to fulfill my desire for creativity with each client, no two hairstyles were the same. After consulting with my client, asking whether they’d prefer a middle part, a side part, or the option for both. Figuring out whether or not they liked to wear their hair up in buns or ponytails or to just leave it down. I was able to mentally map out where the parts and cornrowed braids should be and imagined how the hair would naturally fall and frame their faces, all before laying one finger on their head. It was truly an amazing feeling that people would trust in me to help them look their best for big events like birthdays, weddings, and graduations.

Reflecting on my relationship with different crafts throughout the years has allowed me to realize that I never lost my passion for crafting after all, it just became so interwoven into my lifestyle, culture, and history that it was second nature to me, I didn’t even recognize it as a form of craft. My craft has been used as a means for identification and for survival. It has endured centuries of suppression, translations through several mother tongues, enriched in cultures and religions, and evolved with technology and innovation. The joy and craft of styling Black hair is one steeped in pride and purpose. And it’s a craft that I intend to practice on my own future children and grandchildren in the hopes that they continue the legacy that came before them.

As I enter the seventh year of my natural hair journey, I wear my natural hair status as a badge of honor and a testament of my commitment, because maintaining natural hair is no joke. The cost of quality hair products alone could make a grown man cry. I often keep my hair tucked away for weeks at a time, I push off wash day until “tomorrow”, and there are definitely moments where if I were to run into one more tangle, I’m reaching for the scissors. But being on this journey is something that I wouldn’t trade for the world. The ability to style my own hair and others’ within my community, and having the opportunity to be creative and constantly expand my skillset is what really attracted me to this craft. But the sporadic compliment from the little Black girl on the street who says she, “Likes my hair.” is truly all that I need to keep me going.