Why The Black Barbershop Is The Only Space For Black Men To Be Pampered and Safe

When I landed my first full-time journalism job at Flint Journal in 2012, I was tasked with the same responsibility all Black men have when moving to a new place: finding a barber. I now lived 45 minutes away from my birthplace of Saginaw, and more than an hour away from my last stomping grounds Lansing — too inconvenient to see either of my barbers in those locations. I asked for recommendations on social media, and a friend of a friend suggested that I go see his barber, Marcus*.

Marcus’s barbershop was in the hood (“not the ‘rap hood,’ the real hood” © Jay-Z), an area of Flint that I wouldn’t have gone to unless I was there for a specific reason. I rang the doorbell, asked for him by name through the intercom mic, and was buzzed inside. He didn’t confirm himself by name, but what I saw next was one of the most memorable moments of my life: a customer sat in the chair appearing unkept and homeless, and by the time the cape was removed from his neck, he was fresh enough to attend the Grammys. It’s the type of transformation that barbers flood social media feeds with now, but I witnessed it in real time, just a few feet away from me. Marcus later explained to me that he had recent incidents at the shop that jeopardized his safety, so he had to make sure I was good peoples before verifying who he was. But from that point on, he was the only barber that I trusted until I moved to New York City four years later.

The rising price of haircuts has been spoken about for years. Van Lathan was incredulous last month about how the price of a haircut in Baton Rouge, La. had raised to $65.

While writing this piece, I found it absolutely impossible to come up with a space that does as many things for Black men as a barbershop does. It’s the one place that a Black man is given space to care for himself and pamper himself with no concerns whatsoever. We can justify it as a maintenance item, while enjoying it as a luxurious one — something that isn’t normally afforded to Black men.

As much as gender norms are evolving, many of them have also remained stagnant. To that end, care is still often seen through a feminine lens. Women integrate spa days and nailcare into their routine of self-care, and can even dress their best to go out to eat with each other. Even third spaces like church are often predominantly women. To be clear, they deserve to enjoy all of those things: the world beats up on them way too much, and they should be able to celebrate with each other. But imagine hearing your homie say, “I’m about to put on my new J’s and go grab brunch with the homies.” Unless you’re single men going to either chase women or go to a sporting event, it just won’t land the same.

I’m not whining about how the world isn’t male-friendly. But patriarchy is indiscriminate of its victims, and the barbershop is one of the few spaces where Black men are allowed to pamper ourselves with no questions asked. While there is a growing number of men who are comfortable enough in their own skin to get spa treatments, they’re also seen as less than masculine when they actually do. Video games are a great way for men to unwind, but they have the stigma of being childish and immature. The gym is a place to help physical and mental health, but not a place to relax, especially with the inherent competitiveness and hypermasculine energy to keep up with. What weirdo goes to a movie by themselves? (Me. I’m the weirdo.) Of course, clubs are hyper-sexualized environments that aren’t kosher for men in committed relationships. The barbershop doesn’t carry any caveats: it’s a place we can go to ritualistically, come out feeling 100 times better than we did when we went inside, and have no explanation necessary.

Come to think of it, getting a haircut is one of the few things that’s seen as unquestionably masculine whether we do it ourselves or if we pay someone else to do it for us. We’re expected to be able to change our own flat tires, assemble our own furniture, carry heavy things, and protect the people we love; enlisting someone else to do those things carries stigmas of laziness, weakness, and unmanliness.

It’s no wonder that barbers have added accoutrements to justify their rising prices. (My friend and colleague Gene Demby, host of the NPR podcast Code Switch, ascribes the rates to the same macroeconomics that impact other areas of our lives: greedy landlords charging exorbitant commercial rent, meaning that barbers have to pay the shop owner a higher monthly rent for their chairs that can’t be accommodated by volume.) Announcing that you’re leaving to go get a facial may get you side eyes and smirks; but when it’s part of the haircut, it’s regular maintenance. Have you ever had a hot towel and aromatherapy with a haircut? “When you’ve had filet mignon it’s kinda tough to go back to Hamburger Helper.” (Yes, there’s still Jay-Z line for every situation.) Does that glass of bourbon make the haircut look any better? Not necessarily, but if it comes with the price hike, I’ll take two, please. And if money is running low, you can always learn to take care of your own head and facial hair. 

Plenty has been said about the versatile skill sets of a barber: beautician, therapist, an ear to vent to, comedian, conspiracy theorist, sports and politics commentator. The level of trust and physical intimacy that we’re literally leaving in that person’s hands makes a barbershop one of the most uniquely sacred spaces for straight Black men — and one of the most important people in our lives.

Several years into my time working in Flint, my best friend from college had a gig there and needed a haircut before his performance. I recommended Marcus, the same way my other friend did for me — and I reached out to Marcus to let him know he was coming through. It was dark outside by the time they finished, and with knowledge of where they were, Marcus took his firearm and walked him outside to his car to make sure he got home safely.

Haircuts hadn’t reached $65 yet back then, but he would’ve certainly justified the price.