Braiding Red Tape — Why D.C. Regulates Hair More Than Crime

By J. Persley-Davis
The Washington Informer
https://www.washingtoninformer.com/

I am a former Washington, D.C., police officer — and yet my friend, a professional hair braider, is required by District law to complete more training hours than I did in 24 weeks at the Metropolitan Police Department academy. This is not a criticism of training for public safety professionals. It reflects how disproportionate our policies can sometimes become, especially when they do not align with the responsibilities or risks involved.

Under current law, hair braiders in D.C. must obtain a full cosmetology license to own or operate a salon or shop legally. This requirement is not only unnecessary but also places a heavy burden on individuals, many of whom come from communities that have long used braiding as a cultural and economic practice. According to Title 17, Chapter 17-37 of the D.C. Municipal Regulations, braiders are classified as “specialty cosmetology operators” (17 DCMR § 3702.1(c)(1)), grouped with professionals who perform services like electrolysis, skin care and chemical hair treatments. Section 3702.2 states that no one may legally practice without a license — including braiders, even though their work involves none of the chemicals or cutting tools associated with cosmetology.

To qualify for that license, a person must complete up to 1,500 hours of instruction. At the Bennett Career Institute, the only school in the District currently offering the required cosmetology program, roughly 100 hours are dedicated to braid-specific training for $730, in addition to the cost of more than $20,000, not including supplies and licensing fees. The cosmetology program focuses on techniques like coloring, cutting and chemical processing, which many braiders do not use at all in their work. For aspiring braiders, many of whom are women of color, African immigrants, or low-income workers trying to support their families, this is not just a barrier — it is a wall. For those already braiding in informal settings, it may mean risking their livelihood to do something they have done safely for years.

Hair braiding is more than a job. For many, it is a cultural art form passed down through generations in African, Caribbean and African American communities. It is a source of pride, self-expression and entrepreneurship. A West African woman who has been braiding since childhood — mastering intricate styles with only her hands and a comb — should not have to spend thousands of dollars learning to use chemicals she will never touch. However, in D.C., she would be breaking the law without a cosmetology license. This is where the policy fails not only in fairness but also in logic. Braiding is a low-risk, natural practice. Unlike chemical treatments or haircuts, it does not pose safety hazards that require regulation. Licensing requirements should reflect actual risk — but in this case, they do not.

What is worse is that D.C. is falling behind. Thirty-seven other states have modernized their laws to exempt hair braiders from cosmetology licensure, recognizing that braiding is not cosmetology. These states have acknowledged that regulating braiders the same way we regulate chemical hairstylists is not only unnecessary — it is harmful. Some states now allow braiders to operate without any licensing at all. Others have created straightforward registration processes focused on hygiene or sanitation. These approaches balance public health with access to work without forcing people to pay for unrelated training. D.C., which once led in elevating the visibility of braiding as a profession, now risks being left behind.

Licensing, a crucial element for public protection, can inadvertently restrict access to work when applied too broadly. According to Harvard Business Review, occupational licensing advocates argue that it enhances service quality by setting minimum standards and can boost demand by signaling competence or improving worker skills. However, critics argue that licensing often serves the interests of professional associations more than the public, as these groups may advocate for licensing primarily to restrict competition and raise wages within their industries, not necessarily to protect consumers. 

It is important to be wary of potential conflicts of interest, as occupational regulations are typically initiated by industry insiders rather than the public. Sunrise review data consistently shows that these proposals often advocate for the most restrictive form of oversight: full licensure. In a Harvard Law journal, Tzirel Klein questions the logic behind licensing requirements for occupations like barbers, shampooers, interior designers, florists and funeral directors, asking whether consumers truly need protection from a bad haircut or an unappealing flower arrangement. More importantly, she points to a growing body of research across various fields — from dentistry to ride-sharing — showing that occupational licensing often has no positive impact on service quality. As Klein notes, there is “little evidence that licensure improves the quality of services or protects consumers from harm,” casting doubt on its effectiveness.

This is the difficult reality: Talented individuals, some with decades of experience, are being unjustly excluded from the formal economy. Many are left with the heart-wrenching choice of either working without a license and risking penalties, or giving up a skill they have dedicated their lives to. This is a situation that should not exist in a city that prides itself on inclusion and opportunity.

Hair braiding holds a deep personal significance for me, for two profound reasons. First, I have had the honor of witnessing my friend, Pamela Ferrell, tirelessly advocating for economic freedom for hair braiders for more than three decades. Often referred to as the Pioneer of Natural Hair, Pamela is an author and the owner of a renowned salon in D.C. She has been a driving force behind crucial legislative reforms that have impacted natural hair and the rights of hair braiders nationwide. Second, I turned to her in 2014 when the U.S. Army enforced a ban on several African American ethnic hairstyles — a moment that underscored the political and personal significance of hair.

Having served this city as a police officer and D.C. Army National Guard member, I have a deep love for D.C., which I now call home. The District can lead the way again — just as it did when it first recognized hair braiding as a professional practice. However, authentic leadership requires listening, reevaluating policies that no longer serve their intended purpose, and creating an environment where cultural traditions, entrepreneurship, and economic freedom can flourish. 

D.C. should remove the cosmetology licensing requirement for braiders. It should recognize hair braiding as a distinct, skilled and safe practice. At a minimum, it should explore a separate, simplified pathway for braiders who want to work legally and openly — without being forced to pay for training they do not need. 

This is not about lowering standards. It is about applying the proper standards to the right people for the right reasons. It is about preserving access to a practice that offers dignity, cultural pride and financial independence. Hair braiding is not a threat. It is a gift. Let us not tie it up in red tape.