Anyone who lives in Chicago and takes public transportation knows that the Red Line is full of smells. Just today I walked onto the Red Line only to be taken aback by a strong but familiar one – the smell of relaxer. Or, I guess as white people call it, “chemical straightener.” I had this (or some version of it) put in my hair twice as a pre-teen, and I knew the smell immediately. Even after this young girl walked off the train – with much confidence – it lingered. This is some serious stuff. And it’s one of the focuses of Chris Rock’s funny but illuminating documentary, Good Hair.

Let me start off by clarifying one thing: I know this is about Black women’s hair. I also know I will never personally understand the stress and maintenance that many Black women go through with their hair. While I learned some things I didn’t know before the film, I found that – just by being a woman with hair – I was able to relate to a lot of what this doc portrayed. And for everyone else…I think you’ll definitely be entertained and informed.

Rock was inspired to make the documentary after one of his (adorable) young daughters asked him, “Daddy, how come I don’t have good hair?” The doc explores the topic of what it means to have “good” hair, largely through interviews with a diverse range of Black men and women – everyone from Ice-T to dermatologists to music video stars. (Yeah, apparently Ice-T gets his own category.) Oh, and did I mention Maya Angelou? She provides some brief insight on the topic as well.

There are a multitude of topics explored under the umbrella subject of “good hair.” Rock uses the diverse interviews for perspective, a hair convention performance contest for entertainment, and a trip to India for the back story of many African-American weaves.

Most interesting, perhaps, are the permeating themes that come up frequently at various points of the doc. One being the understanding or orientation that Black men already have to Black women’s hair. One interviewee commented on how Black men get this because they grew up with their mothers and sisters doing the same things every day. Actor Nia Long talked about how other men, such as white men, don’t understand her hair maintenance at all, and might even be scared of it as something unfamiliar to them.

On the other hand, another theme popped up – the notion that, as KRS-One says outright, ALL women strive to have long, straight “European” (a word frequently used in the film) hair. Ice-T says something to the effect of, “Let’s talk to all those famous white girls and see if THEIR long hair is real”…as a cutaway reveals Paris Hilton and her obvious blonde hair “extensions.”

This all comes to the realization that, no matter your ethnicity, hair is very important for most women. Whether it’s using chemical relaxer on what people offensively call “nappy” locks, or dying your hair bleach blonde regardless of your natural features, or refusing to cut your hair because its length has become a protective shield to you – hair has meaning for us females. As a completely bald woman with alopecia poignantly said in the doc:

I think hair is so important because our self-esteem is wrapped up in it.

From a white woman’s point of view, I know I’ve always been told that my hair looks better curly – in its natural state. I think a lot of white women hear that same thing, actually. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like enough people are telling Black women and girls that their hair is beautiful just the way it is. This is portrayed by the 3-year-olds getting their hair relaxed. Or the scene where one high school girl with a cute short Afro sits awkwardly as relaxed-haired women say they don’t think any woman can be taken seriously as a professional unless her hair is straightened.

One thing that’s brushed over in the film but comes up a lot when people talk about the film is the WHY. Why do Black women want straight hair? Why did people freak out when Solange Knowles cut off her hair? Why doesn’t the rest of the world accept Black hair in its natural state? These questions went largely unanswered, but the assumed answer that Chris Rock and his interviewees seemed to give is simply that Black hair is not understood by non-Black people.

The film offers not only humor, but empathy towards the subject of Black hair. However, I’m struggling to decide what the documentary does more – empathize and explain, or ridicule? I hope that – once more people see the film – the whole point of Chris Rock’s endeavor doesn’t become counterproductive.

What I’m saying is: While this is a movie about Black women’s hair, I think it’s important to remember that we shouldn’t go see this doc and then come out of it saying, “Wow, those women are CRAZY and spend SO much money on all this hair stuff! How ridiculous!” Instead, why don’t we take a step back, get past the laughs, learn a thing or two that we never thought about before, and also recognize that many women – regardless of race – do crap to their hair. Most of us women, let’s face it, abuse our hair for years and years, just to force it to be something that it’s not. And thank you, Chris Rock, for caring enough to take on that issue and portray it in a well-balanced light.