Charleston resident Veronica Bunch still remembers the moment two years ago when her daughter came to her, saying that a cheerleading coach had demanded that she change her hair.
Bunch’s daughter, then 17, had done the hairstyle herself, and made sure that she was within regulations for her cheer competitions. But the coach still objected, arguing that the girl’s hair stood out. And the school said because hair isn’t protected under discrimination laws, there was little they could do.
“There was nothing to hold the school accountable, nothing to hold the coach accountable,” Bunch said of the situation, noting that her daughter would sometimes come home from school and cry. “There was nothing at all.”
Last week, Bunch, who shared her story with the Senate Judiciary Committee, was elated as lawmakers voted to advance a bill prohibiting race-based hair discrimination to the floor. But within 24 hours, the momentum had stalled when, with the approval of 22 state senators, Sen. Eric Tarr, R-Putnam, pulled it off of the floor and referred the bill to the Senate Finance Committee, which he chairs.
This could be the end of this year’s push for the “Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair” or CROWN Act. Wednesday is Crossover Day, the deadline for bills to clear their chamber of origin. And while no bill is truly dead until then, the clock is running out for the CROWN Act to pass.
For years, advocates in the state have argued that the legislation is necessary to protect the self-expression and dignity of Black West Virginians, noting that hair discrimination can impact people in housing, schools and work. Nationally, 24 other states have passed a similar measure in recent years.
And there have also been incidents in West Virginia, including the case of Bunch’s daughter, where Black youth have been told to change their hair to stay on sports teams. In 2019 for example, a coach told a student on a high school basketball team in Beckley to cut his hair or stay on the bench.
The CROWN Act would protect against cases like this, as well as in the workplace, where Black men and women are often singled out and criticized for their hair styles.
Katonya Hart has been advocating for the legislation for years; she said the bill would be a basic affirmation of self-worth in a state where Black residents are such a small minority and are often left out of policy discussions, even as they face significant barriers in schools and jobs.
That the state can’t even pass this measure, she says, is cause for concern.
“There should be absolutely no reason why I should have to beg you to accept me,” Hart said. “There’s absolutely no reason why anyone should have to walk into an office or classroom and have to defend their hair.”
The complexities of such a bill being discussed in a Legislature that looks very different from the state’s Black communities have not been lost on CROWN Act supporters. They argue that lawmakers have at times shown a deep lack of understanding of Black people with textured hair, comparing their issues to people who choose body piercings, tattoos and hair dye.
Those comparisons, advocates argue, ignore the ways that being forced to change their natural appearance can be draining to the psyche, the wallets, and in some cases, even the health of Black men and women.
But state lawmakers, many of whom have supported other bills protecting groups from religious discrimination this session, have countered that even with evidence from state residents, the case for passing the CROWN Act is shaky.
Sen. Patricia Rucker, R-Jefferson, sponsored a CROWN Act bill in 2020. But this year, she is opposing the bill, saying the state’s existing racial discrimination protections cover hair discrimination.
“As a minority myself, with kinky hair, if someone were to discriminate against me based on my hair, I would call that racism,” Rucker said.
“Kinky” hair, often defined as tightly coiled, or spring-like, is predominantly held by Black men and women, and research has shown that men and women with this hair type are often perceived as unprofessional despite their actual job performance.
Last week, Tarr said that the bill needs a fiscal note before it can advance. Three fiscal notes have since been added from a handful of state agencies, one of them, from the Human Rights Commission, estimates there won’t be any cost to the legislation.
The second, from the Board of Risk and Insurance Management, lists no definite fiscal impact, but notes the impact is impossible to estimate, if the state faces lawsuits under potential CROWN Act violations; a point also echoed in the third, from the Attorney General’s Office. Tarr did not respond to questions about whether he would put the bill on an agenda now that the fiscal notes have been released.
Still, after years of advocacy, the CROWN Act’s supporters say that they will continue their fight.
“I still have optimism in my heart about it,” Bunch said. “I’m just praying that something will change.”
Correction 2/27/24: A previous version of the story mischaracterized the BRIM fiscal note; the fiscal note said it was not able to estimate the proposed cost of the legislation.