Young Amaya St. Pierre would be barricaded from the kitchen to ensure her fascination with her father's hands wouldn't interrupt the assembly line. Every Sunday, she and her three sisters would sit for hours as James braided their hair, too.
James isn't a hairdresser, he says. Rather, he's a "look creator." And his story began within the impoverished realities of Haiti, one of the poorest countries in the Western Hemisphere.
James' mastery for style and his coffee-warm, neighborly personality have gained recognition throughout Portsmouth over the years, first in downtown salons, then at his own Diversity Hair Studio, recently renamed Salon St. Pierre, to bear the family name. It's also fitting considering daughter Amaya, now 20, just joined him at the Lafayette Road business as his partner, and recently graduated from beauty school.
"My parents could not be any more proud to see their last name as our hair salon," James said. "The first time my mom came in, she had the biggest smile on her face, seeing that last name on a street in Portsmouth, New Hampshire."
The American dream motif weaves throughout James' life. When he was 8 years old, in 1981, his father left the family in Haiti to find opportunity in the United States, with hopes of later sending for them.
In Haiti, they lived in a space "like a small cubicle," without running water, James said. "Fifteen of us, bunk beds everywhere." It was his mother's dream to see her five children live past age 30.
James' "hair hobby" began in Haiti, supplementing the family income by cutting hair in their bedroom. In 1989, he made the trek to New York City when his father, working as a welder, was able to bring the whole family to the United States. In the eight years he was gone, Haiti had seen a terrorization of its people and destabilization of the country under President Jean-Claude Duvalier. There were protests, massacres. Thousands of Haitians were killed or tortured during his presidency, while hundreds of thousands others fled the country.
"I didn't know how bad things were," James said. "We really didn't even have much to go by. That's what actually made me who I am today. It made me much more appreciative of everything I can have now."
In New York City, despite not knowing any English upon arrival, James finished high school all while cutting the neighborhood's hair. Life in Brooklyn was harsh, he said, so he and his brother made their way to Waltham, Massachusetts; the beginning of a lot. He was introduced to his wife, Shannon, who grew up in Portsmouth. They moved to the Port City in 1995.
James continued to cut hair on the side as he traveled 45 minutes both ways each day to barbering school, then cosmetology school. At age 30, he opened his own salon, called Diversity, to honor "the diversity inside our house" as an interracial family.
James and Shannon have four daughters; Torieana, Dominique, Amaya and Reignie. Around Portsmouth, they're known as the "St. Pierre sisters," having attended both Portsmouth High School and Berwick Academy.
"I'm still waking up every day in ooo's and ahh's," James, 45, said. "And I still have so much more dreams to achieve. I still have family members down there (in Haiti) that are still suffering due to the earthquake that happened in 2010. I do my best to help them, I still send money for food and stuff like that. And we're hoping in the future as our success grows, we'll be able to set up some kind of foundation to give back."
Amaya caught the beauty bug at a young age, often leaving school early to attend hair shows with her dad. She started braiding in second grade.
Last fall, Amaya's was the pinnacle performance of the Black New England Conference's Afrofuturistic fashion show at UNH, where she wore a sparkling sunflower yellow gown with feet-long braids trailing behind her held by other models.
"My whole life I was just watching him cut hair," she said. "No matter where he was, he was always cutting hair and I was always right by his side watching his hands. Since I can remember anything, that's all I've wanted to do, is do hair. He's always had people in the chair, he's always laughing with everyone. It's like, I wanna do that."
Amaya recalled her father going into a nearby preschool, bringing a chair into the multi-purpose room and cutting everyone's hair for free.
James said he "couldn't be happier" to have Amaya join him at the salon. Now, it's a double dose of St. Pierre; humor, hospitality and a guaranteed good look.
"The client base we have is absolutely amazing," James said. "One will be a Caucasian person, and the next person will be getting dreadlocks in their hair. I always tell people when I see people, I see hair. I call it my canvas."
James has seen generations of families come and go through his salon. It's not uncommon for someone whose hair he cut as a child, to bring their children to him today.
With the Seacoast being a predominately Caucasian area, Salon St. Pierre has a niche, too; a place for people of color to get their hair done. And Amaya, as a biracial woman, knows all too well the process black women go through when it comes to their locks.
"It's such a big part of being a black girl, it's embracing your curls," she said. "My sisters and I all went through it at a point in time, hating the hair on our head."
Amaya said Salon St. Pierre sees a lot of biracial or adopted girls whose parents aren't sure how to care for their hair texture. "They come in, we give them lessons," Amaya said. "We're so open to having people come in and us just teach them."
"It's so inspiring watching the young girls," James added. "Our whole thing is to make people feel comfortable. The same family vibe we have." The father-daughter duo has big plans for the future working together. Amaya laughed she wants her own hair care line, and that her name renders a perfect brand aesthetic.
"My mom's dream was to get to see (her kids) live past 30 years old," James said. "I can't even think or imagine thinking that way about my own kids. Now she has 15 grandchildren and her life is so fulfilled. Everyone got married and started their own families.
