I’ve thought a lot about hair over the past four months.

Because of my job as a laser hair removal technician on Madison Avenue, it is my duty to consider the stages of hair growth, how to safely remove hair via laser energy, and which areas of the body it’s most and least difficult to destroy hair on so that I can inform clients about realistic results.

At our office, we have two machines. The lasers emit a gentle beam of energy (measured in joules) that passes through the skin to the hair follicle, where it is absorbed by melanin (the substance that darkens hair – i.e. the darker the hair the better results). The energy from the laser is converted into heat that paralyzes the hair follicle while leaving surrounding skin unharmed.

In the past, some people have commented on how lucky I am to have “no hair/light hair.” I smile politely and thank them.

But last week, one woman’s comment made me consider my hair, compared to others’ hair, on a deeper level.

I was treating the woman’s upper lip. She wasn’t “hairy” per se. But her hair was black, so the fuzz on her face was noticeable and bothersome to her.

After the treatment – as she iced her swollen lip – she, too, commented on my hair.

“You’re so lucky you’re white,” she said. “You have naturally good hair.”

Taken aback, I looked at her quizzically – I had no hair on my face … what did she mean? I’d never had a client comment on my “whiteness” in relation to my hair.

I laughed uncomfortably and escorted her out. After the woman paid and left, I told my boss what the woman said.

My boss, who is from Trinidad, answered, “White girls’ hair is usually straight. Not nappy or curly. That’s probably what she meant.”

She noted how my client had a head of tightly curled hair.

If this is what the woman meant, then what made my hair “good” and hers “not good?”

My straight-haired boss went on to tell me how she too has naturally “nappy hair.” And to get hair like mine, she gets a “Brazilian hair straightening treatment” every few months. This keeps her hair “maintained” and “beautiful” (i.e. “soft,” “smooth,” and “straight”).

Because my boss was once a hair stylist, she explained that the treatment is keratin-based.  Keratin is a type of protein high in sulphur and the amino acid cystine. It is a main protective substance in hair, skin and nails.

“It’s only $350 for the procedure,” she subtly bragged. Even though the treatment is cheaper in areas like Astoria (closer to $175), it still seems like a hefty price for “good hair.”

This whole topic of hair made me think of the new Chris Rock documentary that is literally titled: Good Hair.

A documentary about African American hair culture, Rock visits hair salons, scientific laboratories, and Indian temples to explore the historically-laden concept of “good hair.” He argues that African Americans’ hair is burdened by the legacies of slavery and racism.

He questions: “Do black women spend countless hours and hundreds of dollars trying to make their hair look white?”

I question: Is this true for all (except white) women? Are there different standards for men? And if so, why?

Since that day, I’ve treated people as usual.

But, where I once felt good about helping people feel more comfortable with their bodies, I couldn’t help but worry that I was contributing to the “good hair” facade.

Originally published Sunday December 13, 2009