Cartoon graphic of two Black women with their hair in braids.
For the Black community, hair is a medium of both artistry and resilience. [Graphic by Alisha Velji/The Charlatan.]

Growing up, Montessa Barahoga’s parents were “strict” about her internet usage on school days. 

“The rules were either take a nap after school or figure it out,” Barahoga said, laughing. 

Limiting her screen time for most of the week allowed Barahoga to spend afternoons in the backyard with her nanny, who taught her how to braid grass into different patterns.

“That’s the earliest memory I have about braiding,” Barahoga said. “It grew my love for seeing what my hands could make.

“When I was able to eventually translate that onto people’s heads … and see them have that, ‘Wow, this is what our hair can do’ [moment], I was like, ‘I have to make this my life.’” 

Barahoga’s independent hairstyling business, Monheira, is now approaching its second year of operation. She does braids, dreadlocks, afro cuts and more. 

In preparing for her designs to be showcased at the Black hair art show Crépu: Our DNA, held on Feb. 1 and 2, Barahoga has been able to do something different. She’s experimented with editorial hairstyling—a style seen on major runways and fashion magazine covers. 

“It’s a lot more artistic stuff. Playing with structure, defying gravity and shapes and all that stuff,” she said. “I love to push myself. A lot of my love for hair comes from seeing how far I’ll go.” 

Crépu: Our DNA is put on by Black-centred event planning group Hors Pair Social in collaboration with the Moving Art Gallery. It’s an annual event first established in 2022, showcasing the artistry of Black hair through hair care demos, runway shows, music and film events.

Hors Pair Social founder Sharlene Clarke said for the Black community, hair is more than another step in the getting-ready-in-the-morning checklist. With historical significance, hair is a medium for Black people to express creativity and resilience. 

“It’s not just something that we … tie up before we go to work. It’s generational. It’s historical,” Clarke said.

Clarke added that throughout decades of transatlantic slavery, different hairstyles were used to map out “worlds to freedom” in South America. “It’s not the same today, but it’s definitely a symbol of freedom.” 

However, in spite of its history, Clarke said Black hair is not always “a big political statement.” 

“We’re just saying that Black hair is really cool and we just want to celebrate it,” she said about the Crépu event. “It’s not inherently political.” 

Moving Art Gallery curator Sandra Dusabe said she feels Black community celebration is particularly important in a Canadian context. 

“This country has been effective in completely ignoring Black people,” Dusabe said. “The assimilation that you take on is so strong that when we have events that we say are explicitly for Black people, you’re always going to be met with folks who are like, ‘Well, what about the others?’ 

“I think, overall, the resilience part of it is that we deserve to have events dedicated to us.” 

Events carved specifically for Black people can also build a sense of community. Dusabe said “important conversations” can stem from discussions that Black people share about how to style their hair and finding the right hair product. 

“Being in a room full of people in one place doing it all together, I think that’s a whole different kind of energy,” Dusabe said. 

And for artists like Barahoga, hairstyling goes beyond pushing back against the status quo.

“I can’t even put it all in the category of resilience or even a symbol of resistance,” she said. “It ties into self-expression and even just self-empowerment.

“With mainstream beauty standards favouring straight hair over textured, Black hair and by embracing our natural hair, braids, locks [and] afros, I believe that Black people challenge these standards and reclaim our cultural identity.” 


Featured graphic by Alisha Velji/The Charlatan.