The time I cut my hair in 1978 in Phoenix, Arizona


During most of my adult life I've had longish hair, sometimes really long, but never really short. Well, a couple of times, and only very briefly. And the first time that I did it was in 1978 while I was going to Phoenix College. If you're wondering why this was important, I'll explain. You may already know.

It's been so long since then, and it's something that people have rarely talked about, that young men wearing long hair in the 1960s, and through the early 1970s, was a political statement. It let everyone know that you were against the oppression of "the Man", and very pointedly against the War in Vietnam, which ended for the United States in 1975 when President Nixon pulled the troops out. I turned 18 in 1976, and had been quietly wearing long hair all of the way through high school. It wasn't just a fashion statement, like I say, it told people as you walked by that you weren't part of the industrial-military establishment. Of course, most people didn't know that, except other young men, who recognized it. I was one of those young men.

But it was all over, and by the time I got to Phoenix, in 1977, I considered it ancient history. Long hair and flashing peace signs seemed to have gone out of style, and the United States was entering an era that many young men like me had no only dreamed of - no war, no draft, no worrying that a letter might arrive any day. Because of my youth, I was never actually in any danger, but as my 18th birthday approached year after year, and the War in Vietnam continued, it hung over me, and other young men my age. It was awful, but then it was over.

So in 1978 I got a haircut. It wasn't any kind of a political statement, it was just that I was now living in a very hot climate, with a car that didn't have air conditioning. I hadn't had short hair since I was a little kid, and it felt good. That is, until I was confronted by a group of complete strangers on the campus of Phoenix College. They seemed to feel that I was making a political statement because I didn't have long hair. I wanted to ask them if they knew the war was over, but they didn't seem to be the kind of people who would read a newspaper. It only lasted for a few seconds, and all it was was verbal harassment, but since I can remember it vividly to this day, you know that it left an impression on me.

Like I say, this was very long ago, and either forgotten about, or, for most people never known about. Long hair is usually just associated with "dirty hippies", and you shout, "Get a job, hippie!" and that sort of thing. But it was a political statement for young men like me, and I remember it all too well.

Image at the top of this post: Phoenix College in 1978.
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