Minnesotans Reflect on the Power and Protection of Black Hair
With the passage of the CROWN Act in Minnesota, Black Minnesotans like Anne Austin, Brenda Morrison, and Kimberly Steward are celebrating new legal protections for natural hair while reflecting on the decades-long struggle for acceptance, dignity, and self-expression.

When Anne Austin was a little girl, growing up as one of seven children in a struggling household, her relationship with her hair was marked by neglect — not by choice, but by circumstance.
“Our hair was very long, but it was never really done,” Austin recalled. “That’s actually what inspired me to get into hair… I wanted to make sure mine was combed.”
Today, Austin is a professional loctician at Loc Starz Natural Hair Salon in the Twin Cities, and a proud advocate for natural beauty. But even with decades of experience and a license in cosmetology, she knows firsthand that acceptance for Black hair is still a battle.
That’s why the CROWN Act, which stands for Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair, matters so deeply. Passed in Minnesota in July 2023, the legislation prohibits discrimination based on hair textures and protective styles such as braids, twists, afros, and locs in schools, workplaces, and public spaces.
“The fact that a law had to be put in place is absolutely sad,” Austin said. “But it also shows the state of America — how they view us, our culture, and who we are as a people. It’s a reminder that we still have to fight just to be accepted for how we naturally show up.”

Across the Twin Cities and beyond, Black Minnesotans are reflecting on what it means to finally have their natural hair legally protected, something many say should never have been up for debate.
Brenda Morrison, who now wears her hair in locs, remembers dreading the hot combs and chemical relaxers of her youth.
“I hated getting it done,” she said. “And as soon as I got around water, it would do its own thing again,” referring to recoiling that naturally happens to Type 4 hair when wet, even when processed.
When she got old enough to care for her hair on her own, she embraced her natural texture and began learning to braid. Eventually, she turned to locs for their simplicity, individuality, and strength.
“It’s easy, it lasts, and it doesn’t look like anybody else’s,” Morrison said. “That’s what I love.”
Still, Morrison, like Austin, was appalled that legal action was required to protect people like her.
“Your hair is part of who you are,” she said. “I disagree with what happened to that young man who was forced to cut his locs to compete in wrestling. That was discrimination, plain and simple.”
She’s referring to the 2018 case of a Black New Jersey high school wrestler who was told to cut his hair on the spot or forfeit his match, a moment that sparked nationwide outrage and ultimately helped fuel the CROWN Act’s momentum.
Austin said stories like that are far from isolated.
“I’ve known people for years who couldn’t get jobs if they wore locs, braids, or afros,” she said. “We were still stuck in that same Jim Crow environment, just with a modern face.”
But Austin’s clients, and her career path, tell a different story. As a loctician, she sees the beauty and versatility of Black hair every day.
“People say ‘good hair’ like it’s rare,” she said. “But we all have good hair. We have the hair “they” want, because it can do anything.”

That sense of pride and advocacy also drives Kimberly Steward, a veteran session stylist who has worked with Essence, Rolling Stone, ESPN, and red carpet stars.
“I’ve styled textured hair on Emmy-winning sets, magazine covers, film and red carpets,” Steward said. “The truth is — texture, not race, determines how hair should be cared for.”
Steward grew up with two older sisters, now celebrity stylists, and became their first client.
“My relationship with my hair growing up was healthy and adventurous,” she said. “I’ve always loved my hair. Recently, my texture has changed and become more coarse, which allows me to wear a big afro, and I love it.”
As someone who has seen the industry shift over time, Steward says the CROWN Act is essential, but it also exposes deeper truths.
“Kinky, curly textures were especially demonized when associated with Black people, and that bias echoed around the world,” she said. “As Black women began embracing their natural hair and wearing it unapologetically, it opened the door for others globally to do the same. That freedom and self-expression has always started with us.”
Like her peers, Steward recognizes the beauty, politics, and power in hair.
“Our hair is political. Our hair is love. Our hair is community. Our hair is life,” she said.
Morrison believes the world needs to stop policing Black expression altogether.
“Why do people who aren’t Black want to control us?” she asked. “Our hair doesn’t hurt anyone. It’s not affecting how we breathe or walk or work.”
Austin agrees, adding, “I stepped away from doing all styles as a cosmetologist because I wanted to be a voice for our hair — our natural, beautiful, powerful hair. And I absolutely love the magic in locs.”
As Minnesota continues to implement the CROWN Act and push for broader equity across education, health, and employment, all three women say the message should be simple:
Black hair is not a problem. It’s a crown.
Jasmine McBride welcomes reader responses at jmcbride@spokesman-recorder.com
