Braiding Identity: African Women, Hair Salons, and Identity in New York

 

My first week in New York, I was bombarded with the immense diversity the city has to offer. I tried my first Indian food cart, saw people from cultures I had only read about, and experienced the city’s famous melting pot. Though I was amazed, there was one thing at the back of my mind: I had made the tragic mistake of not getting braids back home in Angola before leaving, so now I was faced with the option of either buying some products to do them myself or paying $300 for braids. Guess what I chose? The following Sunday morning, I ventured to 125th Street and Frederick Douglass Boulevard. Picture this: I leave the station, and, for the first time since leaving Angola, I was once again surrounded by a noticeable African community. It was a feeling I didn’t even realize I was missing until that very moment.

Walking around Harlem, I couldn’t miss the countless “African Hair Shop” signs plastered across the many storefronts, including inside the beauty supply store that led me there. I began noticing these shops everywhere—especially in Harlem and Brooklyn. I couldn’t help but wonder: Why are these places specifically labeled as “African Hair Shops?” and how do they differ from other Black-owned hair salons?

Through conversations with many Black women in the city, I learned that these “African Hair Shops” represent a kind of cultural hub. Many women seek out the old-fashioned “aunties” who’ve mastered traditional braiding styles—these women are known for getting you in and out of the chair quickly, delivering skilled, no-nonsense service. It’s important to note, however, that these professionals are not known for their hair cutting and blow-drying skills, or offering full-service styling—they’re specialists in braiding. That’s what keeps customers coming back. The pricing is clear– no hidden fees, no surprise charges like late fees or cancellation fees; and they take walk-ins, which means that if you’re looking to get regular braids done, the African hair shops are where you’ll get them.

With all of this in mind, I started to experience braiding not just as a hair care practice but as a cultural practice tied to identity—specifically, an African identity historically tied to the female experience. Many of the women running these shops learned to braid long before they immigrated to the U.S. Braiding, for them, is a way to make a living, but it’s also a part of their cultural heritage, which ties them to a larger community in a foreign land. It was my first time seriously questioning something I had grown up with in Angola: Back home, braids are part of everyday life; nearly everyone wears them. For the most part, getting braids is simply a practical way to take care of my hair, not necessarily a declaration of my ancestral identity. I obviously knew that hair braiding is a cultural practice, but I had never considered its significance in the context of the African diaspora. Being in New York, though, made me realize that these braiding traditions are now embedded in a much larger cultural landscape, one where African customs are part of a broader patchwork of global diversity.

New York Knots: Why Braids Thrive in the City

New York City, often seen as a land of opportunity, has long been a magnet for immigrants seeking a better life. According to the Migration Policy Institute, over 4.5 million foreign-born immigrants reside in the state of New York, nearly 17% of whom are Black or African American. The city has become home to more than 240, 000 African immigrants mainly coming from West Africa, with countries such as Senegal, Mali, Ivory Coast, and Burkina Faso contributing to the cultural landscape of the city. For many of these immigrants, the decision to leave their home countries is driven by economic challenges, lack of opportunities, and the hope for a better future.

During my time in New York City, I had the opportunity to visit over 15 hair salons scattered from East to West Harlem, as well as some in Brooklyn. Both Harlem and Brooklyn have long been hubs for Black culture and migration, making them ideal places of support for incoming African immigrants. These neighbourhoods offer a strong sense of community, where individuals can find cultural and linguistic familiarity, not to mention the large number of social institutions that assist new immigrants stationed in these areas. Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn and 125th Street in Harlem, in particular, are now renowned for hosting the best and most well known African hair salons.

These salons, where women from French-speaking African countries predominantly work, are not just places for hair care—they are community spaces. In my informal conversations with the braiders, I learned that many of them came to New York in search of economic stability and the ability to send money back home to support their families. But their stories are layered, revealing how hair braiding—something deeply ingrained in their culture—becomes not just a job but a way of life, a means of reclaiming personal agency and navigating the dual challenges of being women and immigrants in a world often not hospitable to either. Despite the busy work and the challenges they face as immigrants, braiding offers a flexibility that is vital for women with families and those looking to maintain a sense of control over their schedules.

I did face challenges getting interviews with the braiders, especially in the beginning. While the women seemed open to talking when I first entered the salons, once I mentioned my project, there was hesitation. They questioned my intentions, worried about what I might do with the information and showed apprehension due to the language barrier as they spoke mostly in French. It took time for me to gain their trust and connect with them, moving from one salon to the next, from Lexington Avenue to Frederick Douglass Boulevard, until I found Tedina’s Hair Salon all the way in Flatbush, Brooklyn. Tedina, a warm, welcoming woman from Burkina Faso, opened her salon in April 2022, and she graciously agreed to share her journey with me.

Tedina’s story is one of resilience and determination. She arrived in the United States in 2015, driven by the desire to pursue the “American Dream”. Her mother, who had 13 children, was a constant source of inspiration and as the closest to her mother, Tedina wanted to honor her by finding a better life. “I came here to chase my dream,” she said, reflecting on her decision to leave Burkina Faso, but her path wasn’t easy. She didn’t speak English, and the transition was difficult. Like many immigrants, she had to find her own way. 

In the early days, Tedina worked as an independent braider across the United States, in Texas, Alabama, and Chicago, before finally settling in New York City, where her paperwork was settled. She was self-employed, having learned the ins and outs of braiding from an early age. “[You learn how to braid] since you’re a baby, you see… In Africa, when I was a baby, we don’t go to the salon. It’s in your home,” she explained. “You see your mom doing it, your sister, your grandma… even if you didn’t try, you understand [how to braid].” As a Fulani woman, braiding is deeply embedded in her culture. The distinctive Fulani braids also known as “stitch braids”, so iconic of the Fulani people, are a part of her heritage that she saw reflected in the U.S popular braiding scene. 

What makes the hair braiding industry so appealing to women such as Tedina is the flexibility it offers. It’s a self-employed, independent industry where women can set their own hours and still maintain their responsibilities as mothers, wives, and caretakers. “It’s not easy, but a lot of people like it because it’s self-employed. You can come any day, leave any time,” Tedina explained. “…and a lot of people have kids and they cannot take the kid to the daycare. 
They want to, like, take the kid to the African people place and pay like $10 or $20 and they just want to come and spend like eight hour[s] here and go back to take care of their kid.” In this way, braiding becomes not just a source of income, but also a way to balance family life and work. Women who would otherwise be unable to commit to a 9-5 job due to family obligations can still earn a living, working on their own terms.

“… some African women, their men don’t want them to spend a lot of time outside …. They can do hair braiding… they do one customer and they just go home. And when the husband called them, okay, [they] can come home. They can leave, but if you do an American job, you cannot live like that.”

During my informal conversations with braiders, many echoed similar sentiments about the advantages of their work. They talked about the flexibility it offers, and the ability to send money back home, which is crucial for supporting their families abroad, often helping them build wealth in the form of land and property investments back home. 

While Europe is a popular destination for many African immigrants, some of the women shared that they found the United States to be more equitable in terms of work opportunities. Even with limited language skills and a visa process that is stricter and at times more expensive, they felt it was easier to start working in the US and support their families compared to Europe, where language barriers and stricter work environments often posed challenges. When asked why they chose the U.S. over countries such as France, where many Africans emigrate and where language barriers would be less of an issue, some explained that Europe can be less flexible and more prejudiced. While there are larger African communities in Europe, the diversity in the U.S. makes it easier for their children to integrate and thrive, and if their children attend good universities, they are more likely to secure careers outside of service jobs. This, they believed, contrasts with Europe, where many immigrants with degrees still end up in low-paying jobs due to systemic barriers.  

The work itself is often done on a per-chair basis, meaning each braider rents a space in the salon and works independently, paying a fee to the salon owner for the chair they occupy. In Tedina’s salon, she can accommodate around 10 braiders at a time, and some braiders may come in for a few weeks or longer to work with clients. Single braid styles generally start at $200 and go up from there in most salons. The women who work in these salons often form a close-knit community, offering each other emotional support through constant conversation– it’s not unusual to hear laughter and stories being shared as they work, sometimes together in the same client to get them out faster The women I met in these salons—from West Harlem to Brooklyn—are a testament to the resourcefulness and hard work of African immigrants, using their skills to build their lives in one of the world’s most diverse and expensive cities. Their stories are woven into the core of New York, just like the intricate braids they craft every day.

Strands of Struggle: The Pain and Perils Behind the Chair

The journey of a hair braider is one of deep-rooted passion, skill, and resilience, woven through countless hours of intricate work, financial challenges, and the physical tolls of standing for hours. It is a profession that demands dedication and sacrifices, and, for many, the reality of running a business within this industry is far from glamorous. From the physical strain of the job to the legal complexities of licensing, braiders such as Tedina and many others are pushing against the odds to preserve the integrity of their craft while navigating a system that often seems designed to make their work harder, not easier. 

Prior to starting this project, I had never truly analyzed the paths that led the many women who braided my hair to end up behind the chairs that I sat on for countless hours over years of my life. As I looked more closely, I began to see parallels of this art everywhere– in the stories the women shared and in the stories they carried in their hands.

The challenges of running a salon or being a self-employed braider renting a chair, go beyond just knowing how to braid hair. Back home, in Angola, people don’t usually rent chairs in salons. Instead, they are employed with a fixed monthly salary or charge for braiding their neighbours or locals if they work independently. While their business’ image is just as important there, I find the hair industry in NYC to be far more competitive and service focused – even within African hair salons. In my conversations with women like Tedina I was not surprised that one of the central themes that emerged is the immense pressure of maintaining the quality and reputation of the business. As Tedina put it, “you need to have a lot of experience.” 

In a world where braiders often have to wear multiple hats—as both the skilled artisan and the business manager, either as salon owners or as independent braiders—the balancing act can be overwhelming. For those who solely rent chairs in salons, the pressure is no less intense. While they are technically self-employed, they are still part of a larger system that depends on reputation, client satisfaction, and the image of the salon.  

The physical toll of braiding, a job that requires standing for hours on end, is also a significant factor that is often overlooked. The strain on the body from long hours in a fixed position can be exhausting, and without proper support or compensation for this wear and tear, it adds to the emotional and physical burdens braiders face every day. According to a study of the musculoskeletal symptoms and associated risk factors among African hair braiders, many are at risk for work-related musculoskeletal disorders due to repetitive hand motions and  prolonged standing or sitting. This study was conducted in Oklahoma City and Dallas, yet it showed results similar to those I have heard and observed while working on this project and throughout my interactions with the people that have braided my hair; over 75% of braiders reported discomfort in their fingers, wrists, hand and upper back and shoulders, and the risk of such injuries is linked to the number of years braiders have worked. In other words, the longer a braider stands behind the chair that brings them livelihood, the more intense the pain they feel as a result. This pain is exacerbated by the fact that there is no safety net for independent, self-employed braiders. Many lack health insurance or paid time off, so when injured they have to push through the pain or they risk having no income to sustain themselves and their families.

But perhaps even more debilitating than the physical strain is the uphill battle that braiders must face to comply with legal and licensing requirements in New York. While the Natural Hair Styling license is mandatory for braiders in New York State, obtaining it is not as straightforward as one might think. The process is complicated, expensive, and, for many, practically impossible.

According to a report by African Communities Together (ACT), the licensing requirements are particularly challenging for immigrant women who have spent their lives braiding hair but lack the formal education or documentation to meet the stringent criteria. To obtain a license, braiders must either complete a 300-hour approved course or prove that they have equivalent experience, either through foreign education or five years of professional practice. For those who have been braiding for years in informal settings, this process is not only costly but also requires a level of documentation that many simply do not have access to.

Tedina shared her experience of attending the required classes and taking time off from her business. At the time she was still braiding in other peoples’ salons, so like any other licensed practitioner, she had to trade off 300 hours of work to comply with the local standard– a luxury that few can afford– even though she had been braiding hair for a long time.  The cost of attending these courses, both in terms of time and money, makes it difficult for women who rely on their income to support their families to invest in their legal standing.

The licensing system, as detailed in the report, is often viewed by braiders as impractical and unrealistic. Many of them, like the participants in the focus groups surveyed, argue that they already possess the skills necessary to braid hair professionally but are being forced to jump through hoops to prove it. One focus group participant shared, “How can I split the money and my time between taking care of family, business, and the hair braiding training? With family and bills, I don’t have money to afford the training.” Another participant echoed similar sentiments, explaining that they had been braiding hair for over 25 years and had no intention of attending formal training that would only take them away from their clients. 

One other challenge to obtaining a Natural Hair Styling License involves passing both a written and practical examination conducted in English. I have encountered women who have expressed concerns about effectively communicating during interviews, which led me to consider how such language barriers might impact their ability to navigate the licensing process. The African Communities Together report validates this concern, estimating that over 80% of surveyed braiders reported difficulty understanding written information about the licensing process. 

Released in 2020, the ACT report outlined some recommendations to address the challenges braiders face in navigating the process of obtaining a Natural Hair Styling License. Key proposals included reducing the 300 hour training requirement, which is significantly higher than that for other occupations with significantly greater health and safety risks, such as security guards and home health aides. Instead, the report suggests requiring only 20 hours of health and safety training for experienced braiders, and 80 hours for beginners, eliminating written and practical exams in favor of course completion certificates. It also recommended simplifying the process for documenting prior experience by replacing consulate letters with client testimonials using standardized templates, amongst other proposals. Almost four years later, not much has changed. 

Many braiders face systemic and cultural barriers compounded by limited access to formal education, which makes understanding complex bureaucratic requirements even more daunting. For immigrant women of color, who are disproportionately affected, these challenges serve as obstacles to gaining recognition and employment for their skills and expertise– addressing these barriers is essential to creating an equitable path for talented braiders to achieve licensure and thrive in their craft.

Braids for the Future: Tradition Meets Transformation

The intersection of tradition and innovation is especially noticeable in fashion capitals such as New York City, where braids are no longer confined to specific cultural or ethnic boundaries but have become a mainstream art form. From runway shows to everyday style, braids remain a timeless and influential staple, often reimagined through creative collaborations that fuse heritage with a modern flair. This melding of styles reflects the adaptability and resilience of braids, reminding us that they are not just rooted in history—they are living, breathing expressions of contemporary identity.

During my interview with Marie Celine, the founder of Yua Hair, a platform and studio focused on reshaping the conversation around afro-textured hair to bring new perspectives and innovations to the art of braiding, we explored the dynamic evolution of black women’s relationship to textured hair. Originally from Côte d’Ivoire and now living in London, Marie has experienced firsthand the blend of African traditions with global influences. Her insights shed light on how this fusion of cultures is driving innovation in the world of hair, especially for women of African descent living in the diaspora.

Marie’s passion for braids began at a young age, growing up in a culture where braiding was an essential part of life. “Even as a child, I loved experimenting” she recalls, “It’s so deeply ingrained in our cultures that when you get a child’s hair done, you do it in braids.” Marie’s relationship to her hair was always about more than just aesthetics; it was a way of expressing personal style while staying connected to her cultural heritage.

As an entrepreneur in the textured hair space, Marie sees the market evolving in exciting new directions. “There are so many new innovations when it comes to braiding, new styles, new ways of adapting,” she says. 

“The fusion of different cultures, like incorporating styles from Korean or Japanese haircuts with African braiding techniques, creates something truly unique. It’s amazing how technology and cultural exchange are enriching this art form that has existed for centuries.”

This idea of merging tradition with innovation is at the heart of what makes braids such a powerful medium for self-expression today. As Marie points out, “Hair braiding is a form of language,” and just like spoken language, it evolves over time. Our relationship with our hair, much like our relationship with language, is constantly being reshaped by our exposure to different cultures, new technologies, and contemporary needs.

For Marie, the importance of preservation and innovation goes hand in hand. “Culture is dynamic,” she explains. “It evolves as we do, but we must never forget where we come from. Preservation is important, but embracing the future is just as crucial. The solutions we’re creating today can be informed by the lessons of the past.” This balancing act between honoring tradition and embracing progress is what makes the world of braids so exciting right now. It’s about continuing to respect the past while imagining new possibilities for the future.

Marie also highlights how the growing range of products designed for textured hair has transformed how people care for their hair. “I think the most important thing is having solutions that allow us to care for our hair in the best way possible,” she shares. “We now have more options than ever, and that’s a huge empowerment tool. The ability to choose, to experiment, and to adapt styles is empowering because it allows us to embrace our hair on our own terms.”

As we look to the future, it’s clear that braids will continue to play a vital role in how we, black women, express our identities, celebrate our cultures, and connect with one another. Whether through the fusion of different cultural techniques or the use of new technologies, the possibilities for braids are limitless. And as Marie Celine puts it, “The fusion of culture, technology, and innovation is what makes this art form so exciting. We are just getting started.” 

The future of braids is bright, and it’s a future that blends tradition with transformation.

 

Works Cited

African Communities Together, TakeRoot Justice. Licensing a Legacy. 2020.“State 

Demographics Data – NY.” Migrationpolicy.Org, 1 July 2024, www.migrationpolicy.org/data/state-profiles/state/demographics/NY. Accessed 18 Dec. 2024.

https://takerootjustice.org/resources/licensing-a-legacy/ 

https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/26771155/ 

 

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Noémia Rocha (she/her) is an Angolan feminist and economics student whose work bridges gender, development, and social justice. In the last few years, she has worked with women’s empowerment NGOs across Africa and Latin America, leading projects that center community, mentorship, and equity. Her writing explores identity, culture, and the intersections between economics and womanhood.

Edited by Leïssa Romulus.