DiversityFall 2023 StoriesFinal projectOhioPoliticsSocial Justice

The CROWN Act: addressing a long history of hair discrimination

The first time Tyana Barton was singled out because of her hair was when she was told to straighten it before a dance recital. 

 

“That was like the first time in maybe 10 years I’ve ever had to straighten my hair. So I was like, distraught about that,” Barton said. “And everybody was just like, ‘it’s not that serious’. And I’m like, it is though. It is.”

 

At the predominantly white studio in Dayton, Barton’s instructor wanted all the dancers to look the same for a particular performance. Barton, being the only Black dancer, was asked to straighten her afro-textured hair to comply. 

 

“I’m looking at all of these other girls with long hair, and it’s just like perfectly straight. And then I’m having to go over my hair several times with the straightener just to get it to any form. It made me super emotional,” she said. 

 

In Ohio, there is no state-wide legal protection against hair-based discrimination from employers and schools. Individuals can be told to change their afros, braids, dreadlocks and twists or denied employment opportunities if it does not align with dress code standards. 

 

The Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair Act, otherwise known as the CROWN Act, addresses the issue by providing statutory protection for individuals discriminated against for wearing protective hairstyles unique to Black culture. Rep. Juanita Brent (D-Cleveland) has been trying to get the act off the house floor since 2020.

 

“This is my life story. My hair may be straight now, but most times my hair is in braids,” Brent said. “And I just think it’s crazy that there are people who are being removed from classrooms, who are not allowed to participate in sports events and are being removed from job opportunities because they’re choosing to have their hair in braids and afros.” 

 

The legislation has only been passed in cities such as Columbus, Akron, Cincinnati and Cleveland Heights. This year, Brent reintroduced House Bill 178 for the third time, but now with bi-partisan support from republican Rep. Jamie Callender (R-Concord). 

 

“There are so many places where discrimination is occurring. So sometimes it takes a lot longer to do it in every city, and every community,” she said. “Sometimes people don’t realize the need for it until it happens to your neighbor, your grandchild, it happens to yourself. We just need to pass it within our state and particularly within our country.” 

 

Brent said the general feedback toward the bill has been “great”, with the only opposing argument of the year coming from Kevin Shimp who testified on behalf of the Ohio Chamber of Commerce. 

 

Shimp did not respond to interview requests. 

 

The legislation has until Dec. 2024 to pass, but Brent said there is still a lot of work to be done for the issue to be understood. 

 

“We have many people who have their own implicit bias. And controlling people’s bodies, controlling people’s hair is almost like putting people in their place and saying you don’t belong here,” she said. 

 

The history of what is considered an acceptable presentation of Black hair in the United States dates back to slavery when European aesthetics became the standard, said Mwatabu Okantah, department chair and professor of Africana Studies at Kent State University. 

 

“While on the one hand, many of our people have just ignored it and have lived according to our own aesthetic values, even within the context of being here in the United States,” Okantah said. “Then, others of our people have internalized it and have struggled with extremely negative perceptions of ourselves, seeing ourselves the way white society sees us.”

 

Black people’s response to the European aesthetic has gone through cycles of assimilating to the social norm to embracing natural hairstyles in spite of it. Okantah said the cultural shift in recent years could be attributed to changing attitudes and Black people holding more positions of power. 

 

“It’s coming around again and society has always responded to that. But enough of us now are scholars, mental health professionals, lawyers, and politicians. And so we have more tools to take that back. So I think the CROWN Act came out of that,” he said. 

Portrait within the Oscar Ritchie building, home to the Africana studies department, at Kent State University.

 

The CROWN Act was introduced in California in 2019. It has since passed in 24 states and was brought to the U.S. Senate in 2022. 

 

The legal expert of the legislation who has served as an advisor since its conception, Wendy Greene, has found the experience “rewarding”. 

 

“It’s been really great to be able to see how this legislation is empowering young people to be advocates, young people to express their racial and cultural identities freely in their schools and their workplaces,” Greene said. “And to see in turn, how people are using this legislation to educate and enrich others who may not really be familiar with this kind of discrimination because it’s not their experience.”

 

While the legislation will not end racial discrimination, the CROWN Act could find employers financially responsible for an individual’s loss of job opportunity and emotional or psychological damage. 

 

“In terms of the major legal obligation is to just to stop engaging in the discrimination in and of itself,” she said.

 

Although Barton’s experience was negative, she looks back at it as a learning opportunity for everyone involved.

 

“It’s me telling them well, this is what my hair means to me. This is a part of my culture. It kind of helps them understand,” Barton said. “Oh, so this is more than your hair. You know, I felt like it was very much a time where I was able to educate other people.”