When she goes to work, Imanni Wright, a sophomore broadcast journalism and documentary major at Chapman, avoids wearing her hair in afro-centric ways to try and prevent any racial discrimination she might encounter.

That fear is a feeling that stems deep, going back to the early stages of Wright’s life when she was made fun of in school for having “oily hair.”

“I had a teacher call me out for leaving oil stains from my hair on a gym mat,” Wright told The Panther.

Hair discrimination against Black people has existed since the introduction of slavery. The effects of such discrimination are still reflected today, as they can present a chain reaction of economic and emotional consequences against the Black community.

The United States’ BIPOC population reached a milestone in the fight against race-based hair discrimination Sept. 21, thanks to the House of Representatives passing the Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair (CROWN) Act. However, the fight is far from over, as the federal bill still has not been passed by the Senate.

Justin Riley, Chapman’s associate director of Student Community Support and Development, said hair discrimination is rooted in systemic racism, a form of control by the white majority to perpetuate a historical erasure of Black people.

“The passing of the bill is realizing that racial discrimination is tied directly to policing hair,” Riley said. “This legislation is showing a slow eradication of all the systems of oppression that our country has been built on. But when it comes to the Senate passing it, I'm not going to hold my breath on that. The Senate has showed their character time and time again.”

Chapman graduate student Montez Jennings said institutions label Black hairstyles as unprofessional through grooming policies.

“When Black people are discriminated against because of their natural hair, they're not hired for a job they are more than capable of doing, and that increases the wealth gap and generational poverty,” Jennings said.

What’s more, the cost of looking “presentable” for Black people takes time and money. Wright said straightening natural hair can take hours, and paying for weaves, wigs and the services to install them can cost hundreds of dollars.

Cultural appropriation of Black hair has presented a new form of racial bias. Riley and Jennings agreed they have seen non-Black individuals adopt hairstyles such as braids and cornrows, with industries commoditizing these hairstyles and claiming them as their own.

“When other races reclaim and rename black hairstyles – such as renaming bantu knots as space buns or braids as boxer braids – they’re taking away the value and what they mean to our people wearing them,” Jennings said. “These hairstyles are a reclamation of the time when we were a lost people. It's much more than hair and people don’t realize that.”

She still might alter her hairstyle in a professional setting, but in spite of the influences of euro-centric beauty standards, Wright said she’s learned how to love herself.

“There's no winning because when we wear our hair straight, we're trying to be white, and when we wear our hair in an afro, we're too Black,” Wright said. “I’m just going to do me.”