by Sia Foryoh

Guest Writer

Hair has always been political, personal and spiritual to the Black community. Many styles have a sacred meaning.  An afro is a symbol of revolution, locs can be a religious commitment, Bantu knots and even wearing a durag is not without meaning - they were worn by slaves and later became a fashion statement after the Black Power movement in the 1960s.

Many Black hairstyles had existing meaning, but some developed their sacred status after slavery. Slave owners would shave the heads of enslaved Africans as a form of subjugation and dehumanization. In the centuries since, Black folks have reclaimed their hair, literally and metaphorically.

However, the legacy of hair and anti-Blackness lives on.  For example, in 2016, a Black ZARA employee in Ontario was asked to remove her box braids because her hairstyle was “unprofessional.” In another case, an African-American woman living in Montreal was sent home from a restaurant and denied shifts because her hair was in cornrows. In 2018, a coach was filmed cutting off the locs of a young Black wrestler before a match. This centuries-old form of discrimination continues. 

When it comes to the film and TV industry, many people likely assume that all kinds of hair textures are welcomed and celebrated. Unfortunately, that is not the case. The sector often says that they are ready to do better in diversity and inclusion, but the reality for Black people on the ground, working as actors, stunt doubles and background artists, is a story of exclusion and discrimination.

I’ve been in the industry professionally since 2014. Coming to set and seeing your white counterpart having an entire team of hairdressers who know how to do their hair without question is a jarring experience.  When it comes to afro hair, Black performers are almost always asked to do it themselves or being rushed, pulled about or even hurt because the hairstylist doesn’t know how to work with your hair texture. Even worse, many stylists don’t even want to touch it! I often sit in the chair, doing my own hair and feeling like crap because my hair is not being given the time and professionalism it needs to be camera-ready. I know I’m not alone in this - many other actors have spoken about their experiences, like Gabrielle Union and Halle Berry.

Black actors and performers are all too accustomed to this experience. We either get our hair done before coming to set, at our own expense or bring the tools we need to do our own hair. Worse still, many decide to relax or straighten their hair or wear a wig or weave, so it is “easy” to work with. We do all of this to accommodate the hairstylists on set - the people who are supposed to be helping us get ready!

Why must we do this when our white counterparts are not going through these extra steps? 

Why aren’t Black hairstylists and barbers being hired? 

When I ask this question to people in the film and TV industry, I always get the same answer: “well, there aren’t enough Black hairstylists in Vancouver.” I knew I had to prove them wrong.

Just as I have to do with my hair, I took this matter into my own hands. I gathered names of all the hairstylists, barbers, salons and hair providers in Vancouver who want to be or are already in the film industry. I then took that list and sent it to industry leaders across Vancouver and the union. It wasn’t hard to find people interested in getting into the industry or have experience but needed more hours to work union jobs.

The film industry in British Columbia is a very busy one, with around 30-40 shows filming at any one time. There are a plethora of opportunities for hairstylists! However, much like any industry, it is filled with racist bureaucracy.

Firstly, the union has a hierarchical way of doing things, which privileges white people. White women dominate the film and TV hair industry. They have the power to hire more Black hairstylists but often hire their friends or people they already know. It’s extremely hard to get a foot in the door when people in positions of power and privilege act as gatekeepers.

To join the union, you have to work a certain amount of hours. But how can you rack up the necessary hours if you aren’t given the opportunity to work on set? It’s a Catch-22 situation that keeps Black folks out of the industry.

Black hairstylists have the potential to contribute immeasurably to the industry. Not only are they skilled in creating a myriad of complex Black hairstyles like braids, locs, cornrows, weaves, Bantu knots and so on (styles which take serious practice, time and skill) - they are also equipped to work with European and Asian hair textures. Someone who can make something beautiful out of a variety of hair types? That’s a win in my eyes. 

The resistance to hiring more Black hairstylists in Vancouver’s thriving film and TV industry is simply racist. Not only does the gatekeeping, nepotism and discrimination hold Black stylists back, it also has a detrimental effect on actors and other people in the industry. Sometimes, a show will be filmed, edited, and released without consideration for the Black actor’s appearance, making them feel humiliated.

I have done the work of bringing together a huge list of Black hairstylists based in Vancouver -- all ready and willing to work. So, it is up to the Union, production companies and the head hairstylists to make a conscious choice to do the right thing. At the end of the day, you surely want the people in front of the camera to look and feel their best from head to toe!

Sia Foryoh

Sia Foryoh is a Vancouver-based actor known for her work on Charmed (2018), Road to Christmas (2018) and Memoir of an Honest Voice (2014).

Contact Sia at Sia.foryoh@gmail.com for more information.