Friday, May 20, 2011

How to Respond to a Dis: The Creation of a Hip Hop Ethos in Sister Souljah's Response to Bill Clinton


By Andre E. Johnson
Presented at the 
National Communication Association Conference
San Diego California
November 21, 2008         


            On June 13, 1992, then Governor Bill Clinton of Arkansas and Democratic Nominee for president gave a speech at a Rainbow/Push Coalition gathering. As he courted black voters with promises of rebuilding crumbling inner cities across America, many remembered this speech for the critique Clinton leveled at hip hop activist Sister Souljah who had spoken at the gathering the previous night. Clinton’s critique of Souljah was not leveled at the speech she gave at the Rainbow/Push event, but at comments she had previously a month earlier to a reporter of the Washington Post.
Clinton started his critique of Souljah by directly confronting the audience in attendance by saying:
You had a rap singer here last night [on the panel] named Sister Souljah….Her comments before and after Los Angeles were filled with a kind of hatred that you do not honor today and tonight. Just listen to this, what she said: She told the Washington Post about a moth ago, and I quote, “If black people kill black people everyday, why not have a week and kill white people….. So if you are a gang member and you’d normally kill somebody, why not kill a white person….” If you took the words ‘white’ and ‘black’ and reversed them, you might think David Duke was giving that speech (Edsall A1).
After acknowledging that the Rainbow Coalition honored the four black people who saved truck driver Reginald Denny who assailants pulled from his truck and beaten during the riots and honoring the white man who taped the Rodney King beating, Clinton further said about Souljah
[Souljah] was invited to speak here and what she said was so inconsistent with what the folks are all about….What she said really bothered me, not only because she said it but because she is somebody who obviously is bright and has a lot of influence over young people. And I think we have to take issue with it…..We have an obligation, all of us, to call attention to prejudice wherever we see it (Esdall A1).
Clinton’s critique of Sister Souljah in front of the Rainbow Coalition defined as the “Sister Souljah moment”, irked Jackson and many people associated with the Coalition. However, in other circles, good political strategy determined Clinton was not going to be beholden to any one or any group.  Many have written about this moment and some even argued that this was the defining moment of Clinton’s campaign.
However, what has not been written about much is that a week later Souljah called a press conference to defend herself against Clinton’s charges. While many in the mainstream political world saw this as simply a political strategy aimed at repudiating Jesse Jackson and the Rainbow Coalition, Souljah and the hip hop community viewed Clinton’s remarks as a dis—which in hip hop lingo is short for disrespect and when one feels dis, one must respond.
In this paper, I offer a textual analysis of the speech Souljah offered at this press conference and demonstrate that while Souljah did offer a strong response to Bill Clinton, she also opened up a space for what I call a hip hop ethos. While many textual critics concern themselves with a history and veracity of a text, this is not my concern. Souljah text is in the public domain and thus I treat it as a rhetorical artifact that currently shapes thoughts and opinions.
Souljah’s Speech
Introduction
Souljah starts her speech by quickly positioning herself as a “very confident, steadfast and powerful young African woman,” who is “surprised” that she has “impacted and effected the development of not only national politics, but international politics as well.” She finds it “shocking” that at a time of “economic recession, and inner city chaos, Bill Clinton has chosen to attack “not the issues but a young African woman who is very well educated, alcohol free, drug free and a successful self-employed businesswoman, and community servant.”
Furthering her positioning, Souljah wanted to “clarify to the press who I am.” She defines herself as a “rapper, activist, organizer, and lecturer” who was “born in the Bronx, New York.” She speaks of being “on and off welfare”, while being raised by her mother (no mention of father), and living in subsidized housing.” She supplemented her education by reading “African history” which enabled her to become the “well-balanced, reassured woman that I am now.” She worked as an intern for the Republican Party in the House of Representatives, attended Rutgers University, and won an oratorical contest. She had studied abroad, has work with, and shared the platform with both national and international dignitaries. Thus she argued that she was “no newcomer to the world of politics and she was emotionally, intellectually, and academically developed” to handle this situation.
She further suggests that her record 360 Degrees of Power would tell everyone who she is and what her positions are but she argues, that since “Bill Clinton was unfamiliar with me, my development and work…he chose to comment without any investigation whatsoever.” However, unlike Bill Clinton, [Souljah] asserts that she did not fail to do her research.
He research leads her to offer seven critiques aimed at Clinton. She claims that Clinton “is a draft dodger” who “feels it’s alright to send your son to fight wars when he himself would not fight for the principles he says he believes in.”  Second, she offers a comparison between herself and Clinton my mentioning that the former “talks about morality but admits he was a reefer smoker,” while the latter “has never smoked reefer or any other drug.”
Third, she mentions Clinton’s extramarital affairs by saying that while Clinton “believes in a strong family unit,” he could never quite get his own personal and social behavior together” and she criticizes him for “attacking and alienating women for his own shortcomings.” She also critiques Clinton for joining an all-white country club, supporting giving prisoners lobotomies, for not having a “substantive, comprehensive agenda around economic development, foreign policy, or social policy, and for distancing himself from Jesse Jackson, who in Souljah’s estimation, is “more qualified for the job.”
She sums up her argument by denouncing Clinton as a person who “lacks integrity as a “staunch patriot, a people’s servant, a compassionate liberal, a family man, pro-woman candidate and a coherent scholar.” Moreover, Souljah argues that Clinton “used” her as a vehicle, like Willie Horton and other Black victims, which for Souljah makes him a “poor excuse” and an “agenda-less candidate.”
Souljah then turns her attention to America or society in general through indirect comments aimed at establishing her ethos but at the same time, putting distance between herself and the America that Clinton is running to represent. By anaphora, the repetition of a clause at the beginning of a sentence, Souljah recalls some of America’s indiscretions with this elongated paragraph.
Sister Souljah does not own a gun, has not shot or killed anyone, did not invade Grenada, Panama, Nicaragua, Kuwait or Angola. Sister Souljah has never ordered the National Guard into anyone's community and has not made drug deals with Noriega. Sister Souljah has never been a member of a terrorist organization, has no history of crime, has not burned crosses on anybody's lawn or lynched or hanged White people from trees. Sister Souljah has not systematically denied people the right to study and enjoy their culture in the so-called public education system. Sister Souljah did not send Haitians back to Haiti as though they were sub-human. Sister Souljah did not kill the native Indians under the guise of friendship. Sister Souljah did not cause or inspire police brutality, did not beat Rodney King, or shoot Phillip Panell and never shot and killed a little White girl in the head for stealing orange juice and let her murderer go free. Sister Souljah did not vote on the Simi Valley jury and let criminal cops free. Sister Souljah did not create the economic conditions of South Central L.A. or any other urban area for that matter, and did not create an environment of insecurity that forced people into gangs (Souljah).
She concludes her recall of history by reminding her audience that she is not a racist because “neither Sister Souljah nor any other African leader in this world has the power to collectively and systematically beat down and destroy European people.” “White people,” she continues, “deny it all, refuse to discuss it, silence intimate and harass those who take a stand and fight back.” Souljah then affirms her anger—equating her anger of that of a “sane person” who understands that she has a right to be angry at the “racist White transgressions of this society.”
Souljah then shifts to the event that precipitated the Clinton response and the one that brings her to this point. She reminds her audience that her comments should represented the “mind-set of a gang member.” Therefore when she said to the Washington Post reporter:
Were you surprised at what happened in L.A.? No, I was not, White people should not have been surprised either; they knew that Black people were dying everyday in the streets of Los Angeles to gang violence created by poverty and social chaos, but they did not care. If young Black men in L.A. would kill their own kind, their own Brothers and Sisters, what would make White people think they wouldn't kill them too? Do White people think they're better, or is it that White death means so much more than Black death (Souljah)?
Souljah argues that she was taking on the persona of a gang member and not speaking as or for herself.
Souljah concludes her speech by invoking a popular Martin Luther King Jr’s phrase—“injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” She follows this statement by saying she “reserves the right to fight against White racism” and reminding her audience that she did not “order anyone to kill anyone.” She further argues that her album creates pressure on “White America” and where there is “no justice,” there will be “no peace.”
Creating an Hip Hop Ethos
Drawing from the work of Michael Hyde, my use of ethos is not limited to the character or ethical standing of the speaker. Hyde argues for a wider understanding of the term—referring to ethos as a way “discourse is used to transform space and time into “dwelling places” where people can deliberate about and “know together” some matter of interest” (xiii). Once formed, these “dwelling places” become spaces where the speaker’s ethics and moral character begin to take shape. It is not that the speaker comes to the speaking event without ethics and moral character, but the dwelling place creates the space for ethics and moral character to be on display.
Defining ethos as “discourse used to transform space and time into dwelling places,” opens up an avenue that would allow us to understand Sister Souljah’s oratorical performance in her response to Bill Clinton. While Souljah faced several rhetorical challenges, the main challenge she faced was a perception problem. Many argued that hip hop artists and by extension all of hip hop culture should not be looked upon as experts in the political arena because the art form was one that promoted violence, and non-affirming values for children and society.
It was in this context that Sister Souljah responded to Bill Clinton and began to establish a hip hop ethos. Her first rhetorical goal was to create space that would allow her to speak and to have an audience to hear. The press conference gave her a platform to speak, but her construction of a hip hop ethos allowed her voice to have an audience. Speaking authoritatively, Souljah quickly establishes her ground by feeling “very confident, steadfast, and powerful.” In other words, she alerts her audience that she will not be intimated, weak, or stand down in the face of criticism, which she felt was not fair. 
After Souljah developed the “dwelling place” and established her position as oratorical emcee, her second rhetorical strategy was to offer a compelling narrative that provided two rhetorical functions. First, the narrative functioned to introduce Souljah to a wider audience. At the time of her speech, Souljah’s notoriety was strong in the hip hop community by her association with the rap group Public Enemy and rapper Ice Cube—top artists at the time. However, before the Clinton event, Souljah was practically unknown to the mainstream society—and if a mainstream audience knew her at all, it was for the comments attributed to her from the mouth of Bill Clinton. The narrative offered Souljah the chance to define herself against the perceive notions of herself and hip hop.
Second, the narrative also helps Souljah create the dwelling space where her ethics and character could develop. Throughout the narrative, Souljah shares with her audience her story in her own terms. Souljah is not one dimensional—she is a “rapper, activist, organizer, and lecturer.” She has been involves with politics, attended Rutgers University and has spoken on the platform with world leaders. Thus, Souljah’s narrative also becomes a refutation against the prevailing thoughts of what hip hop is suppose to be because she does not fit the mold.
Souljah’s third rhetorical strategy is the critique of Clinton. The critique, as the narrative, serves two purposes. First, in hip hop, a verbal dis cannot go unanswered. Souljah’s seven criticisms of Clinton offer a platform to address the character assassination of her by exposing character flaws in Clinton’s own life. However, the second purpose is that it sets the foundation to expose hypocrisy not only in Clinton’s life, but also in the life of the nation. By asserting that Souljah “never own a gun”, invaded any two-third world country, dealt with dictators and terrorists, or caused or tacitly approved any oppression against other humans, she offers a strong critique against America.
Finally, the fourth rhetorical strategy employed is the explanation of hip hop culture. Souljah has already demonstrated her knowledge of the political climate and now she offers an explanation on her comments. She defends them as her riff on her adopting a gang member persona to make a bigger point. In other words, Souljah is not making the comments; her persona does. What Souljah attempted to do is to offer an understanding of hip hop culture and what it does—by adopting different personas, one can acutely offer comments and criticisms of the wider culture. In other words, whereas Lisa Williamson could not grab the mike and speak, Sister Souljah, by adopting a gang member perspective, can command the mike and grab an audience.
Conclusion
The goal of this presentation was to demonstrate how Sister Souljah created a hip hop ethos that gave her a space to offer not only a stinging invective against Bill Clinton, but also to refute some of the misconceptions and beliefs about the hip hop community. In so doing, she created Hyde’s “dwelling space” where authentic character and morals could develop, which in turn, gave her a place within the national discourse.
Drawing from this speech, I assert that a speaker creates a hip hop ethos by first creating a space from which to speak, second, offering a compelling narrative, third, offering a critique of a person/society and finally explaining or (re) defining hip hop. However, rhetorical critics must examine more texts to see if a genre develops. My work in establishing a hip hop ethos is in its embryonic stages and needs further developing. Works from both hip hop and rhetoric scholars should prove fruitful as we both engage future hip hop performances[1].













Works Cited

Esdall, Thomas. “Clinton Stuns Rainbow Coalition: Candidate Criticizes Rap Singer's
Message.” Washington Post  14 June 1992: A1

Hyde, Michael. The Ethos of Rhetoric. Columbia, South Carolina: South Carolina
        Press, 2004

Souljah, Sister. “Sister Souljah Statement.” Rock Out Censorship
http://www.theroc.org/roc-mag/textarch/roc-09/roc09-07.htm



[1] This is also part of a larger project I am working on: Establishing Ethos through Hip Hop Oratorical Performance.

"Baby, You Fine! The (Re) Affirmation of Black Female Beauty in Mix-a-Lot's "Baby Got Back."


By Andre E. Johnson
Presented at the National Council of Black Studies
Atlanta, Georgia
March 19, 2009

Abstract: In 1992, Rapper Sir Mix-a-Lot caused a sensation when he released his song and video "Baby Got Back." While the song reached number one on the charts, MTV banned the video because of its perceived raunchiness at the time. Others also denigrated the song and video because of its perceived misogynistic lyrics and objectifying gaze. However, in this paper, I argue that Baby Got Back is a song that not only does it speaks out against “perceived” beauty; it also (re) affirms black female beauty.

Introduction

            When Sir Mix-a-Lot released Baby Got back in February of 1992, it became an instant hit. The single shot up the charts and garnered Mix-a-Lot a Grammy nomination in 1993 for best rap solo performance. While the song enjoyed wide airplay and held the number one spot on the now defunct Box Video channel and Billboard’s top spot of rap singles, Mix-a-Lot was not without his critics. Many called it racist and sexist (Birnbaum 8F) and MTV refused to play the video before 9:00pm citing a number of protest from its viewers (Haring 4). However, perhaps its more scathing critiques came from feminist scholars who saw the song as replicating male centered pathologies that reduced women (black women) to just their back sides.
An example of such a critique comes from Janell Hosbson. In her insightful and critical essay, the Batty Politic, she argues that Mix-a-Lot’s Baby Got Back
[F]rames black male sexual desire as more base and raw than white male desire. He declares that he “likes big butts” yet challenges that “even white boys have to shout,” a dichotomous construction in which black men are less inhibited in their sexual expression while white men, who—in stereotypical fashion, because they are too wired, stiff, and mechanical to express their “base” desires—require the raw and hypersexual black female body to enable them to “shout.” (96)
Further, she asserts:
On the one hand, this rap performance could be viewed as subversive in its critique of white beauty standards; on the other hand, it reinforces the binary opposition between whiteness and blackness while reducing black women to one essential body part. Black women are still viewed in the music lyrics and video as inherently "more sexual" than their "envious" and "inhibited" white female counterparts, and black men—through their desire for rear ends—are stereotyped as "more real" and more expressive of their libidos than their white male counterparts (97).
            While I am sensitive to and supportive of many critiques and challenges put forth by Hobson throughout her essay, her reading of Baby Got Back is problematic. Though she opens a space for an alternative reading, her essay remains critical of the way Mix-a-Lot presents women. While Hobson’s essay is a critical examination of how society views and treats women, she does not leave a space for how men can help forge alliances and speak out against the same treatment of women that she so successfully analyzes. In other words, where does objectifying end and affirmation begin? How can someone engage in appreciation without condemnation? In this essay, I argue that Sir Mix-a-Lot’s Baby Got Back gives voice that not only affirms black female beauty, but also offers a critique upon that same beauty standards as Hobson and other feminist scholars do.

“Oh My God...Look at her Butt!”
Baby Got Back starts with two “white” women looking at a black woman’s butt to the point of disgust. They notice the size of the butt, “it’s so big, ugh” and she “looks like one of those rap stars girlfriends.” “They” meaning rap stars, “only talk to her because” she “looks like a prostitute.” Her butt is “so big” and “so round” and its “like out there.” Further, after another disgusting “uh,” the butt is “gross” and “so black.”
The beginning of Mix-a-Lot’s song is important because it sets the frame for the rest of the song. These women, portrayed on the video as white, have a problem not with the woman; apparently, they did not know her. They had a problem with her butt size. By noticing the size of the women’s butt, they quickly associate her with hip-hop by declaring that she must be “one of those rap stars girlfriends.” They also associate her with being a prostitute because her butt is “so big, round and black.”

“I Like Big Butts and I Cannot Lie…”
The first stanza of Mix’s song starts with “I like big butts and I cannot lie.” This functions as an immediate answer to the disgust discussed earlier in the song by the white women. Claiming, “Other brothers…get sprung by big butts,” Mix-a-Lot assures his audience (and women with big backsides) that he is not along with his desire of voluptuous backsides. Mix-a-Lot wants to “get with” these women, because, contrary to the earlier depiction of women with big butts as being prostitutes, she is “not the average groupie.” We should not miss Mix’s subtlety here. Groupies are usually white women associated with white rock bands; not hip hop. By denying her “groupie” status, Mix now can ride her in his “Benz,” be “used by her,” and appreciate her sensual dancing. Further, Mix tires of magazines saying, “Flat butts are the thing,” because if you “take the average black man and ask him that,” he argues, “she gotta pack much back.”
Mix infers two things here. First, he again assures his audience that he is not along in appreciating shapely women by claiming that the average black man would agree with him. However, there is a bigger point Mix makes. The magazines that say, “Flat butts are the thing” cater to an audience that apparently does not include the “average black man.” What Mix does here is to affirm that the average (heterosexual) black male’s appreciation of women is different from main stream society. By claiming this difference, Mix (re) asserts that black men have a choice and its okay that the choice does not fit mediated visions of what is right.

“I Like Them Round and Big…”
The second stanza of the song is a further repudiation of the opening dialogue. Mix declares he likes them (butts) “round and big” and while he draws upon stereotypical images of black men being “animals…begging for a piece of that bubble,” Mix’s larger aim focuses on women—not in Playboy or women seen in rock videos (groupies). The women that Mix appreciates are “real thick and juicy,” not created by silicone, and look more like track diva Flo Jo (Florence Griffith Joyner).
Mix then speaks directly to the “thick soul sistas” who he promises not to cuss or hit.” While he wants to “oooooh” until the break of dawn because “baby got it going on,” he knows that “a lot of Simps won’t like this song.” Simps for Mix are men who do not appreciate black female beauty so all they want to do is to “hit it and quit it,” but he would rather stay and play.” Thus, Mix reshapes the shapely black woman into someone who is desirable and “even white boys have to shout, “Baby got back!”
While others have interpreted Mix as being sexist (which is a fair reading), I suggest that Mix offered a critique on both mainstream society and other men who only want women for one night stands. Feminist and womanist scholars have done an excellent job at bringing our attention to the hypocrisy and the amount of cognitive dissonance that remains in our culture. On the one hand, well-formed black women are not desirable, hideous to look at, and aesthetically unpleasing, while at the same time, used and abuse for the pleasures of sex. However, Mix’s sexual overtures are “straight” to the point and grounded in his affirmation of the pleasingly plump black female body. His declaration that “white boys even have to shout” should not be read as whites giving approval of black female bodies and that it is now fine to affirm hefty backsides—Mix and others were doing that already. The declaration should be read as white men coming to the realization of their own inner desires and that one does not have to conformed to the constructed view (even if one is white) of beauty. In short, white, thin, and flat butt women do not represent for all men aesthetically pleasing female bodies no matter how much the media present them.
“But Please Don’t Lose that Butt”
With the third and final stanza of Baby Got Back, while appreciating black women “playing work out tapes by [Jane] Fonda and doing “side bends and sit-ups,” Mix-a-Lot, enthusiastically proclaims, “but please don’t lose that butt.” Here Mix speaks to the pressure society places on black women to lose weight and conform to the mediated images. However, while working out can be interpreted as a positive, working out to reduce one’s butt size so that one could fit perceived beauty images is interpreted as a negative.
However, not all “brothers” are into voluptuous women because they “play a hard roll” and tell others that the “butt ain’t gold.” Nevertheless, when they “toss it and leave it,” Mix pulls up quick to retrieve it.” Further he says that while Cosmo call “you fat,” he is not down with that.” Then he offers a final repudiation of the archetypical beauty standard when he pronounces to the “bean pole dames in the magazines, you ain’t it Miss Thing. Give me a sista, I can’t resist her, red beans and rice didn’t miss her.” Mix ends his song with another critique of men who dis these women by hitting them. He lets his audience know that when someone does this, he will “pull up quick to get with them.”

Sir Mix-a-Lot, Feminist Theory, and Booty Politics
Feminist scholars have been helpful at reminding us about the images of women portrayed in the media. African American beauty, especially African American women, “has been disparaged” and been the “subject of erasure and been wrought with racist stereotypes” (Patton 26). According to Patton, this has caused many African American women to feel bound by “mediated beauty standards” which can lead to feelings of inferiority (26). Drawing from the work of Jones and Shorter-Gooden, Patton further suggested that this inferiority complex held by African American women who do not fit the stereotypical mediated standard of beauty leads to the Lily Complex—the “altering, disguising, and covering up your physical self in order to assimilate and to be accepted as attractive” (26).
While other scholars suggest that this analysis is too narrow and it does not speak to the many situations that women resist normative standards of beauty, it also does not speak to how men (especially in hip hop) resist and simply reject these stereotypical views as well. According to Miller-Young, by claiming he “like big butts,” Mix-a-Lot celebrated black women’s voluptuous butts as symbols of desirability and beauty. (267).
However, as noted earlier, many took the song to be offensive, sexist and racist. There are two reasons for that initial reaction. First, Mix-a-lot commented on what has been historically a taboo subject — black women butts. Campbell writes that within African American patriarchy, the “black female booty imposes many constraints as they provide opportunities for self-empowerment” (502). Second, along with the commentary on the butt, Mix-a-Lot also provided comment within the context of hip hop—a culture that have been problematic for both feminist and non-feminist scholars.
Hip hop itself is rife with sexist and misogynist lyrics that do denigrate and obejectify black women back sides. Campbell notes that many African American rappers have an “enormous distrust of the booty, seeing it as a lure to manipulate men’s desire for women’s own purposes” (502). Campbell also asserts that pimping or as Neal calls it, “neo-pimping discourse” is also problematic because it has “come to police sexually explicit African American feminity—whether it is for sale or not” (502). In short, by commenting on the butt and doing it within a hip hop context, many read Mix-a-Lot’s Baby Got Back as sexist and misogynistic.
However, there is a need for a re-reading of the song. As noted earlier, while some have already read the song as a cebration of black women and their volumptious backsides and a critical commentary of constructed and mediated images of women, I suggest that it is more than that. Baby Got Back is also a (re) affimation of black female beauty. It is an answer to the “Lily Complex” as discussed earlier and it is a critique on what mediated images consider normal. What Mix-a-Lot said in Baby Got Back is that black women are fine—fine for how they look—fine being who they are—and fine for being sexual beings. By placing this comment within a hip hop context, Mix-a-Lot assured redicule and scorn. However, for many young women who do not fit the ideal mediated image of beauty and who want to feel affirmed by someone of the opposite sex, Mix’s Baby Got Back went a long way at renaming ideal beauty.
In addtion, Mix-a-Lot’s song went further in affirming the tastes and likes of black men as well. If some believe that black women backsides and curveous shapes are abnormal and not desireable, many see (read) black men’s desire for this body type as abnormal. Therefore, what many have intepreted as being wrong or disgusting, is now intepreted as fine and wanting.
However, even if this is affirming as I suggest, there is still risk involved. When does a man’s appreciation of the curveous nature of black women become sexual objectification? Feminist theorists argue that objectification happens when people (men) reduce women to objects instead of individuals with complex personalities. I argue that Mix-a-Lot does not enage in sexual objectification but in sexual desire. The song appreciates what he sees as beautiful and in true hip hop form, he is not afraid to say what is on his mind.
I further maintain that Mix-a-Lot’s song also helps reclaim agency for black women. Mix-a-Lot presents himself in the song as a person who desires the backside of the women but instead of forcing himself on the women, the woman is free to choose if she wants him. By respecting the wishes of black women, he would not “hit them or cuss them,” and when they are diss, he will “pull up quick to retreive them,” he presents himself as the pursuer in a potential relationship and not taking what he wants. In this, the women then can make a decision to return Mix’s advances or not. Mix not only affirmed her beauty, but he also did not reduce her to an object without agency; she remains the subject.
Conclusion
            In this paper, I maintained that Sir Mix-a-Lot’s Baby Got back should be read as not only a critique of normative mediated beauty standards but also a (re) affirmation of black female beauty. While others have hinted at this reading as well, I suggested that Mix-a-Lot’s reading in a hip hop context will carry further weight for everyday women and men than many of our position papers and articles presented at conferences and workshops. What we have to do as scholars is to be more aware of the intepretive lens that others use in affirmation. Mix-a-Lot’s Baby Got Back did that for a host of women—whom many told was too fat or did not measure up to the mediated image of what beauty was suppose to be.

How Fox News Uses 'Big, Scary Hip-Hop' to Race-Bait its Viewers

Last week, Fox News’ Sean Hannity tried to create a controversy over the rapper Common’s invitation to a White House poetry event. Citing a lyric in which Common criticized President Bush for lying to the American people and leading the nation into an unjust war, Hannity tried to paint the rapper as dangerous and "controversial,” the kind of person the Secret Service needed to vet. The lyric in question: "Burn a Bush ‘cause for peace he no push no button/ Killing over oil and grease/no weapons of destruction."
Drawing upon the concepts of metaphor and allusion many of us learned in seventh-grade English class, we can surmise that Common did not literally mean to "burn" Bush, and that he was making a reference to the biblical concept of the burning bush. In hip-hop, as in literature, this is called wordplay. And clearly the more important point of the refrain is "no weapons of destruction," referring to the lie that Saddam Hussein possessed WMD.
Read more here

How Hip-Hop Is Keeping Malcolm X Alive

With today being the birthday of El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz, better known as Malcolm X, I figured it would be a good tribute to throw up a collection of various hip-hop projects and media built from th influence of one of the African-American community's most influential leaders. Samples of his speeches, shoutouts, and tributes aren't difficult to find throughout the hip-hop spectrum, and artists speaking openly of Malcolm X outside of their music only further proves his lasting influence on the genre.
Below is a collection of tracks featuring bars about Malcolm or clips of his speeches, as well as some various videos and interviews demonstrating emcees showing their support of the human rights activist whose efforts at attaining equality resonate 46 years after his death. Had he not been assassinated, Malcolm X would be 86-years-old today.
Read more here

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Common and hip hop are as American as apple pie

On Wednesday, May 11, one of my all time favorite Chicago hip-hop artists, Common, was featured at the White House after being invited by First Lady Michelle Obama to take part in an event celebrating poetry and music.
"I woke up with the sunshine, a sunshine I had never seen," Common recited to a piano accompaniment during his spoken word. "There was light at the end of it, reminding me to forever dream. I was dreaming I walked into the White House with love on my sleeve and love for each and every one of you, reminding you to believe."
Lonnie Rashid Lynn, Jr., known by his stage name Common, grew up on the south side of Chicago and came onto the hip-hop scene during the 1990s. He's respected as a socially conscious rapper that has championed issues such as African American history, women's rights, spiritualism, fatherhood, immigrant rights and local and national politics.
Despite Common's notable record as one of hip hop's most positive artists, conservative media pundits and Republican extremists deliberately used Common's invitation by the White House to condemn the Obama administration.
Read the rest here