DJ Khaled’s “I’m So Hood” and Gorilla Zoe’s “Hood Nigga” enumerate the criteria for maintaining hood status. Lives of crime are advanced as essential by the artists, and gold teeth along with sagging pants are indicators of the lifestyle. These songs, among many others like them, emphasize the hood as an identity, rather than a place. Such emphasis supports the unfair criminalization of black bodies in the mainstream media and interrupts the fulfillment of my personal dream of being able to wear gold teeth without being judged.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
I'm So Hood, That's So Hood
Like A Pimp..........
Pimp culture is rather popular in today’s hip hop. Being a pimp is seen as the ultimate expression of black masculinity. Rappers like Snoop Dogg and 50 Cent deliver the age-old lesson that a good pimp never gives his bitches a dime. A pimp’s ability to make money from sale of their bodies, while giving them as little as possible determines the extent of his power. Not providing for women is thereby promoted as a marker of authentic manhood. While many argue that such rules are meant to be applied only to women labeled bitches and hoes, I do not frequently hear women referred to as much else in mainstream hip hop. Which ever way you look at it, the theme is a dangerous one to advance in a world in which many African-American households are headed by single-mothers.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Hip Hop Misogyny Blues
In 2002, Liza Rios, the widow of late rapper Big Pun, released a documentary chronicling the abuse she endured at the hands of the nearly 700 pound MC. The film is entitled “Big Pun: Still Not a Player,” and it features actual footage of Rios being pistol-whipped by Big Pun.
It is not news that in hip hop’s gender framework, women are expected to be silent about the abuse they experience at the hands of their men. In her battle to break the silence, Liza Rios has worked tirelessly as an activist for the cause of ending domestic violence. As part of her efforts, she asked hip hop artists to lend their talents to a benefit concert, the proceeds of which would go to battered women’s charities. The response she received was in accordance with the treatment women often receive in the hip hop industry when they choose to speak out. It was slanderous and hostile. Many of Big Pun’s rap star friends claimed that Rios must have done something to deserve the abuse, alluding to the idea that she may have been unfaithful. Some even suggested that Rios is an opportunistic gold-digger who is not satisfied by the royalty checks she receives from Big Pun’s label.
Liza Rios’s story is indicative of the hip hop industry’s misogyny problem. The most fascinating part of the reflection is that it illustrates the significant role the hip hop industry plays in normalizing violence against women. I read tons of responses to the video footage on the popular hip hop site nobodysmiling.com, and what people had to say was appalling. Here are a few comments:
Her greedy ass deserved to be beat just because she's a bitch, and I'm a female saying this.
Someone's gotta finish what he started.
Who you think taught me how to set bitches straight?
R.I.P Big Pun ...b*tch must of had it comin.
Exactly, gotta hit 'em to show 'em
Hip hop is neither the originator nor the sole culprit in normalizing violence against women, but there are too many in the industry who do their part to ensure that the normalization continues.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Hip Hop's New Breed of "Tragic Mulatta"
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Lydia Marie Child is often credited with introducing the American public to the myth known as the “tragic mulatta.” Her short story entitled “The Quadroons” (1842) presents the tragic tale of a beautiful mulatta whose enchanted life is turned upside down following the discovery of her “negro” ancestry. The character is forced to live the rest of her life as a slave who suffers constant abuse at the hands of her White male master. Whether Child is the innovator of the “tragic mulatta” or not, the American public certainly remained fascinated by the myth long after the story was published. The construction of the “tragic mulatta” is typically that of a confused, lascivious, self-loathing seductress. Often, her unique beauty provokes White men to rape her. Classic examples of the “tragic mulatta” can be seen in films like Imitation of Life (1934), God’s Step-Children (1934), and Kings Go Forth (1950). For a more modern version of the “tragic mulatta”, just pay closer attention to hip hop. Here are a few lyrics to get you started:
Yellow Bone Chirpin' Me
Lil Wayne – Cash Money Millionaires
I like em sexy high yella if you fit thats you
Twista – Tattoo
When I see the yellow girls it be over
E-40 – Mustard and Mayonnaise
Fast quarter, f*** a slow nickel that’s chump change
Nelly – Cut It Out
Method Man – Tears In a Bucket
Underground dweller from the cellar bring terror
Cam’ron – Touch It or Not
Looking light skin,
Mommy was tight slim
I’m at a loss for words. Actually I’m just simply over my word limit. All I can say is that the “yellow girl” craze needs to be evaluated and then promptly abandoned. Any ideas about how to make this happen?
Monday, September 24, 2007
Jena Six and Hip Hop's Response
Afterwards, the video for the new Wyclef & T.I. song was played and Wyclef was welcomed onto the 106 & Park set as the celebrity guest of the day. The video featured a very expensive vintage car owned by the star, and one of the hosts asked him how much he paid for the fancy vehicle. With a boastful tone and attitude, Wyclef explained that he had purchased the car for $500,000 from fellow rap star, Nelly. Let me back up and state that everyone on set was wearing all black in support of the Jena Six and in protest against the legal system prosecuting the youngsters. Perhaps this is why both the host's question and Wyclef's attitude really stuck out and made such a profound impact upon me.
Not to be self-righteous or judgemental, but the show was supposed to be focused on the six decent young men who are facing serious prison time, and somehow the host deemed it appropriate to ask about the price of Wyclef's vintage car. Even more importantly, Wyclef ceased the moment to brag about it. All I could think of was how far the $500,000 he spent on that car could go for the young mens' legal costs, and you know that Wyclef has way more where that came from. I mean damn, the brother carried on like he didn't hear Cousin Jeff just say on the very same program that the Jena Six needed financial help.
I'm not trying to make Wyclef a scapegoat here. He’s just indicative of the attitude most mainstream hip hop artists seem to have taken. From Fifty Cent to T.I., they all rhyme about how much dough they make. Though I am genuinely happy for their success, I do resent the fact that few of hip hop’s major stars are living up to the other hallmark of their rhymes.
How many times do we hear rappers talk about being down with the hood, about representing all the brothers in the streets and all the brothers locked up behind bars? Now would be an excellent time for them to prove it. Besides being in wonderful financial positions, as they so frequently remind us, rappers also have amazing access to the airwaves. Their videos are seen and their music is heard worldwide. What a great outlet they have to spread the word about the Jena Six.
Call me melodramatic, but I find the silent voices and sealed coffers of rappers from Louisiana to be particularly tragic. They ask for the support of the people when it comes to album sales, concert attendance, and voting their damn videos onto countdowns. And now, at a time when the community really needs them, there seems to be absolutely no reciprocity. Bless his heart, Master P has been one of the few Lousiana artists to actually step up to the plate.
In response to Wyclef boasting about the price of his $500,000 car, a kid in the audience exclaimed, “Can I hold some of that money?!” Wyclef quickly shot back, “You better work for your money in America.” He then went on to discuss his philosophy on charity, saying that he didn’t believe in just handing people money. Wyclef said that he favored teaching people how to fish, as opposed to simply giving them handouts. His views on the matter are almost noble, if only he didn’t make them sound so Republican. I wonder if he felt this way when he was a struggling immigrant and unknown MC? Ohhhhhhhh, what money does to some people! It reminds me of one of my favorite Amiri Baraka poems, Class Gas, in which he writes: