Miss Universe 2019’s hair made a powerful statement

Zozibini Tunzi made an undeniably bold statement when she showed up to the Miss Universe 2019 beauty pageant on December 8: She showed up to the largest beauty competition in the world (in terms of TV coverage) in her kinky 4C cropped hair. In a world in which long hair is equated to femininity and beauty, Tunzi challenged patriarchal prescriptions for what an ideal beautiful woman should look like. And that decision — among her many other qualifications and great performance — earned her the crown.

Over the years, stereotypes that stigmatize women with short hair have been constantly reinforced in our global society. Women with cropped hair have been dismissed as being “more abrasive, more masculine, more deranged,” as Laurie Penny, a contributing editor of the New Statesman America, wrote in 2014. This seemingly small act of intentionally challenging beauty standards, this open defiance to being pretty in the way the patriarchy dictates, is regarded as threatening to an ingrained system of traditional power, and has resulted in attempts to thwart that power through broad dismissal. 

Long, straightened hair — notably associated with whiteness — has been one of the clearest signals for beauty around the world. From 1952 to 2018, Miss Universe titleholders have had long, mostly straightened hair. Even the only four Black winners in this time frame all had long and straightened weaves. Let’s face it: Even though the Miss Universe Organization states that they “celebrate beauty in all forms of it,” they are not exempt from the influence of what society has long considered to qualify beauty. 

So Miss Tunzi rocking her hair not only natural, but cropped, was beyond daring. And it was clearly intentional: When crowned the winner, Tunzi said, "I grew up in a world where a woman who looks like me — with my kind of skin and my kind of hair — was never considered to be beautiful. I think it is time that stops today. I want children to look at me and see my face, and I want them to see their faces reflected in mine."

I recently cut my natural 4C hair short out of the love of change which drives me. But the immediate reaction I got when I stepped back on campus triggered a deep sense of regret. A close male friend of mine approached me and, expressing disapproval, said, “Whatever happened to your hair? Only God knows.” I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I knew the answer to that. He meant it didn’t suit me. That I was pretty with my hair long. That I was crazy to refuse to be pretty and provoke others to not see me as so. To him, I must have not been in my right state of mind to make this decision, so he attributed this change to some higher power with control over mortals. 

I wanted to tell him that I was very cognizant in my decision making. That I had been thinking about it for a long time. That I had always perceived it to be bold and daring and liberating, all of which I felt walking from the barbershop — until I reached campus. 

The boldness and liberty I felt was immediately smashed by the stares and backhanded compliments I got, not just from my close friend but from others. In hindsight, I realize that this was the patriarchy at work: that the patriarchy is threatened by women who experience a realization of their own power when they make such such a change.

Then I remembered Tunzi, who dared to take up space by proudly owning her hair, wearing it the way she wants it, regardless of what everyone else may expect. 

As a young woman still finding her way, I am motivated by people like Miss Tunzi, who dare to be bold and beautiful in their own way. Who stand to take up space in settings where only people who look a certain way are expected to do so. Her hair statement is a call to action for every woman, young and old, to step out of the shadows they’ve been hiding in and own their kind of beautiful. It is a testament to the truth that we are powerful in our natural form and style of our choice — and we can succeed in pursuing our dreams while at it.