As the beads, in every shape, size and colour, rattled on to the wooden school desk, my deputy headteacher finally understood. It had been an emotional struggle: much to her distress, my sister, aged six, had been called out of class for wearing long, tiny braids with colourful beads at the ends – a common style among Caribbean kids. Now, my mum had resorted to giving our primary school staff a private lesson in black hair.

As the last plastic bead rolled on to the table, mum initiated a conversation, ominously: “This is our culture.”

That was back in the early 2000s, but when the news broke last week that California had become the first US state to ban hair discrimination, it felt as necessary and relevant as ever. Attending majority-white schools for a total of 17 years, my siblings and I experienced hair discrimination more times than I can count on two hands. From braids, to canerows, to beads, to our coily natural curl patterns, nothing seemed to satisfy our white teachers’ standards. My mum was a very tired woman.

Of course, hair discrimination isn’t just a phenomenon that took place in schools over a decade ago, and I and my siblings aren’t the only ones to come across it in the UK. In 2015, south Londoner Simone Powderly was offered a job on the condition she took out her braids, and two years ago, a black woman wanting to work for Harrods was told to chemically straighten her hair. Multiple UK schools have gained media traction for threatening exclusion against black children for bantu knots, braids and dreadlocks (in the latter case, the proposed solution was to simply “cut them off”). The list goes on and on, and that’s only considering the cases that have gone public.

Attending majority-white schools, my siblings and I experienced hair discrimination more times than I could count

Other targets stay quiet, like Chris (not his real name), who told me earlier this year that as a child he was made to work in isolation until a pattern shaved in his hair grew out. Teachers rarely consider the impact this form of racism can have on a child’s self-esteem. For many children, being told off, sent out or excluded for something so inconsequential can be confusing and upsetting. Chris said he had always been a gifted student, “but that just took the wind out of my sails”.

Nonetheless, in these conversations, some white people will still claim that this isn’t an issue of race. Critics who subscribe to the “why do you have to make everything about race?” school of thought point towards the fact that most schools don’t allow nose rings or hair that’s dyed all colours of the rainbow. But to equate the two misses the point entirely – styles such as dreadlocks, braids, canerows and, of course, afros, can’t be disentangled from black culture.

Braiding up your child’s hair and dotting the ends with beads might be an “extreme” style in the eyes of some schools, but we can’t ignore the fact that society’s idea of what is “extreme” is rooted in a white norm. Black hairstyles have extensive cultural histories: canerows, for example, aren’t a new “trend” – black women have been rocking them from as early as 3000 BC. Natural and protective styles also often make for easier maintenance than using painful and hazardous relaxers, or spending hours glued to your hair straighteners in front of the mirror like I did throughout my teens.

Of course, hair discrimination is not always as obvious as being sent home from school or being told you’re not allowed to work. Some racist hair discrimination is subtle, manifesting in the form of microaggressions, or pressure to conform to ideas of what is “neat” and “professional” (read: European). We know that systemic discrimination can fly under the radar – racism in hiring processes is technically illegal in the UK, and yet research consistently demonstrates that white applicants have a better shot at a callback. As many black people know, the law does not offer blanket protection from racism. What it does offer, however, is something to point towards – a crutch that would have been useful for my mum in the quarrels with teachers.

As I head out to get my hair twisted today, I’m wondering: what’s stopping the UK from introducing a law similar to California’s? To some, “hair discrimination” might sound like a trivial issue, but it’s inextricably intertwined with racism, and should be legally recognised as such.

Rigid policies have always been used to limit the ways that black people, particularly women, move through the world. We’re so often told that the very nature of our bodies has to be altered and mediated to be acceptable – and we are excluded from working or learning if we don’t comply. Hair is not the be-all and end-all. But acting on hair discrimination would send an important message: we are allowed to exist.

• Micha Frazer-Carroll is opinions editor at gal-dem.com