Ayana Byrd

One day, long ago, my husband suggested a book for me to read with the glowing praise of "this is the type of book you might like." Not believing he had even paid attention to any of the books I read, I responded with a question. "What type of books do I like?" He paused and said "You know, about women." I grimaced. My husband, who is a pretty intelligent man, could only recommend a book to me based on the fact that it was about "women." He couldn't even fully explain what he meant by that. I didn't get angry, but I did become disappointed.

My husband, however, did redeem himself this past Christmas by giving me this book as a present. He said that when he saw it in Barnes and Noble that it looked like a book that I might like. I couldn't resist, and asked him why I would like it. "Because, it is a book about Black women talking about their bodies and society's influence on how they've been taught to think about their bodies. The essays are part sexuality and part sociology." A light bulb had gone off in my husband's head. Naked is a book about women and it is a book that I would like. As a matter of fact, it is a book I absolutely love and I believe every woman should read it.

Every essay is a like miniature jewel. The best that I've read thus far is by Precious Jackson--an HIV-positive woman and safe sex and AIDS activist. She goes on to recount her childhood and adolescence where her grandmother taught her to hate her body as early as age 6 and leaving her in the dark about puberty and sex. When she became a young lady, she learned the power of her body and became promiscuous while trying to find someone to fill that void of body/self-love. It wasn't until Precious became HIV that she learned to love herself inside and out and to care for herself physically and spiritually. That essay should be the foundation for every conversation about sex a caregiver or parent has with their teenager.
… (altro)

This brief book explores the culture of Black American hair and is divided into two broad sections. The first part of the book documents the history of West African people's hair styles and traditions; hair was extremely important in a cultural and spiritual sense to Africans. The historical section continues as these same West Africans were sold into slavery and robbed of their culture, including their rich traditions of hair styling. After emancipation the story continues into modern times, with an emphasis on the hair care industry that has developed around how Black Americans care for their hair.

The second part of this book focuses on Black hair as an individual experience, and I really enjoyed reading this piece of the story. Interviews with modern Black individuals reveal their "hair stories," which are full of family history, interpersonal meaning, and self concepts of beauty.

Overall I enjoyed reading this book because, as someone who is not Black, I learned a lot about a different and fascinating aspect of American culture. My only quibbles are that I wish there were more photos of historical and modern hairstyles. I also would have appreciated a LGBT perspective on Black hair; this book is very heteronormative.… (altro)