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THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO BLACK MEN’S HAIR
How the Durag Beat Both Respectability Politics and Gentrification
How a simple means for protecting one’s hair became a cultural touchstone — and stayed proudly beautifully Black
Update 6/7/22: Level has a new home. You can read this article and other new articles by visiting LEVELMAN.com.
January 2017. Morehouse College. I was about two weeks into my first semester as an adjunct professor — nervous, unsure of myself, and overthinking everything — and walking down a corridor in Brawley Hall with a colleague. She yelled out to a student in front of us.
“Hey! Take that durag off in the building. You know better!”
Then she looked at me. “You don’t let your students wear durags in your class, right?”
“Of course not,” I lied.
A few months later, outside of the confines of the dorm rooms and academic buildings, a group of Morehouse students concocted a celebration that would go viral and revitalize the fervor around one of modern Black culture’s most enduring staples. That fall, students gathered on campus for Durag Day, where they sported their flashiest wraps, unveiled their most pristine waves, and posed for selfies in a daylong celebration. The festivities reverberated across social media and swept both HBCU and PWI campuses across the country. Durag Days became a thing.
We never stopped wearing durags, of course, but they were relegated to the dark of night like a secret. They weren’t fashion anymore.
The day showcased ingenuity, creativity, enterprising initiative — all the things you want from a Morehouse man. And all in celebration of something the students aren’t allowed to wear in the academic buildings. Therein lies the heart of the controversy surrounding the famed headwear: a symbol of negativity for some, a beloved cultural touchstone for so many others. But how did we get here? How did a harmless means for hair maintenance become so divisive?
