Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Hip Hop (In Social Application)

Part 1 of Hip Hop (In Social Application); Part 2 of Hip Hop



You really are on your own...maybe?
In the social sciences, the clearest demarkation in cultures is how women are treated in society. So I thought I'd begin with that part in examining the social applications of Hip-Hop.

“I used to be clean in my Expedition. A girl see me and she'll be wishin'. That I'd stop and spit some pimpin'. It's mackin' in me baby, I just thought I would mention.” - Crunchy Black


The evident themes here to me are commercialism, materialism, capitalism really, and some misogyny as well. Lyrics like these point to in my mind two very different social stimuli that have been reinforced in males and females. Firstly, in males, that misogyny and really playing the field really are not only acceptable but expected. It intimates that there is no love here. Secondly, for females, that they are supposed to want a suitor for his material possessions and that they are expected to be seduced by “things” and by what Aaliyah would term as “loose rap.” 

If these two social theories are true, then that’s pretty sad. It also shows that women are complicit in their objectification. If the reason why a woman is attracted to a man is for the sole purpose of security, then she has abdicated her free will and ceded it to that man who holds her “security” in his hand and at his discretion. Intriguingly though, the women’s power surge of the 90’s and into the 00’s has caused a role reversal or shift which allows men to seek out women who are going to take care of them “just like they momma did,” as evidenced by songs like "She Got Her Own." I find any doctrine that preaches anything other than self-reliance to be a troublesome one (Yes, even religion and reliance on God.). It's funny how, as I kind of bring up later, even though we uplift Black women and praise them for being there. They are always the first to be turned on. (Sorry ladies) Instead of looking internally to solve problems, we move externally to create them for others.

Beverly Peele-graced 250+ magazine covers...
Getting back to this whole notion of Hip-Hop going soft from the original note, I was watching the new Jadakiss video the other day, entitled By My Sidefeaturing Ne-Yo. If that’s not soft, then I definitely don’t know what is. He spends the entire video chasing this one girl and pouring out all these platitudes about sincerity and wanting to support her and needing her in his life. Anywho, maybe this is just my troublemaker side, but I noticed that the young lady he spent the video chasing, happened to be very light-skinned. And I wondered to myself, “Hmmm…has this light-skinned obsession gone away?” And then I peeped the rest of the videos on the list Mr. Johnson, Jr. posted on his list and it appears as though the answer is no. I’m still trying to understand the basis for these colorisms in the Black community, particularly in entertainment and the arts. After the early 90’s/late 80’s Black model boom, the well dried up in haute couture. There has always been a lack of darker-skinned “video vixens”; however, before I go pointing fingers of blame at some deep-seated intra-racial hatred, this could be attributed also quite simply to a lack of interest. Women have always complained about the way in which they are depicted in these videos, maybe more darker-skinned women feeling excluded, unwanted or not interested, just stopped showing up to shoots. It’s really just something to think about.

The diversity of my musical interests often leaves me seated at a variety of tables engaging in a variety of discussions. One thing that has always boggled my mind is the discussion of Jazz as the only true American art form. First off, how is that possible when its roots are African? Secondly, even if you are claiming the proliferation of jazz as the reason why it’s the only true American art form, why is it that the history of Congo Square in New Orleans is underemphasized in the public discussion of jazz’s origins and the fact that the overwhelming of the greatest jazz musicians were people of color. I also find it interesting how even in the Black community, jazz like pretty much all achievements of people of color has been co-opted into being a White thing. What I would love to know is why are Black people always so willing to peremptorily give others credit without any further thought or investigation. “Is it good? The White man did it.” And beyond that, why is it that Hip-Hop is never included in the discussion of musical art, or as the only truly American art form, which it truly is?

Cultural Awareness?
To the earlier point, I think some of us are familiar, at least in passing with the term, “Black Wall Street.” I had heard it before but knew a little about it, mainly that it was in Tulsa, OK and was destroyed in the midst of race riots; but, I had never really researched it and still haven’t fully. One day, it was an early Sunday afternoon in November before the games had started, like right after 12, I just got on wikipedia and had an itch to look up “Black Wall Street,” what I found was that the term not only applied to financially profitable neighborhoods in Tulsa but in Durham, NC and Richmond, VA. These neighborhoods, sad to say, no longer exist in their previous condition are kept alive by small memorials of the impact which they once had. This also serves as the name of The Game’s record label, The Black Wall Street Records. That in and of itself shows how much Hip-Hop has taken on the role of being a socio-cultural guardian of history. 

To me, Hip-Hop, at its essence, is firmly rooted in the Sankofa principle of “go back and fetch it,” simply utilizing the past as an impetus to propel you forward. Hip-Hop finds its greatest universal appeal and success when that issue becomes prescient in the music. The most notable way of doing that is sampling. A good sample, done the right way, pays homage to that artist and to the music industry as a whole. A bad sample subverts the best of that former work into a greedy grab for commercial capital. When I think of good samples or even slight remakes, the song that pops out in my head is Gangsta’s Paradise sampled from Stevie Wonder’s Pastime Paradise. In examining both songs, Pastime Paradise is a call for people to wake up from the ignorant stupor in which they had been living and asks the question “What are we living for?” Coolio responds by saying “still nothing.” Gangsta’s Paradise sets up the paradoxical reality, basically that “I wanna do right; but, wrong is all around me.” 

DANGER: BEWARE OF SCATTERED PIECES OF MASCULINITY AND FAMILY BONDS
I think that’s still the situation that a lot of young urban people are still facing today when all the institutions of society which are supposed to give their lives structure readily crack and crumble all around them. The common idiom these days is “Kids raising kids” or “Babies raising babies”; and, I believe that’s true but not in the sense that it’s intended. The institution of family is supposed to be the basis for our understanding of and introduction to the world. What kind of message are we sending when kids walk into a “broken” home? That the world is full of brokenness and incompleteness and people who aren’t there to love, care and support you? That’s what it sounds like. 

“I dropped the D because I’m a Jr.,” Wayne explained to the CBS anchor. “My father is living and he’s not in my life. He’s never been in my life. I don’t want to be 'Dwayne', I’d rather be 'Wayne'.” Couric then asked Wayne if his father knows that. “He knows now.”- Lil Wayne



Before your ABCs?
A lot of my friends, particularly those younger than me, don’t feel as though they were really raised by their parents; but essentially by their friends. You have this original family unit which is broken and shattered by whatever problems came before this child’s entrance into the world, which is suddenly thrust upon this child and the world they have been thrown into. So this child who has been emotionally abandoned by his immediate family, who often times seek to coddle him/her with toys and trinkets and the fly flashy clothes, is left to find another social unit to replace the foundation which he or she has lost. The ability of people to gravitate to those who are similar to themselves in age and status allows kids to grab on to kids and form social networks of friends, each of whom take the tidbit of adultness that they see around them and try to instill it into each other. This phenomena, thusly creates a network of kids raising kids- kids teaching kids to be something that they have never been, adults. So quickly, the problem is evident. This is where you see gang activity often. How can you lead successfully lead someone down a road you have never been on?

There seems to be a high level of parent-child disconnect in the Black community from earlier and earlier ages. Some blame the crack boom in the inner city for creating a nation of “latch-key kids” who in turn produced more latch-key kids, who are left to find for themselves while their parents do whatever it is that they do. Those are the kind of stories that you hear most often in Hip-Hop, on the rap side at least- these tales of brokenness and incompleteness, these lives of lack. Most artists who took to the drug game before trying this newly opened commercial market known as Hip-Hop did so with regret and remorse not for sport or for fun but because they felt and really saw that at the time, it was the most viable option to produce income. When you effectively box in the majority of the legal ways to go about doing something essential to survival, you take extralegal means to do so. 

Now ain't nobody tell us it was fair
No love from my daddy cause the coward wasn't there
He passed away and I didn't cry, cause my anger
wouldn't let me feel for a stranger
They say I'm wrong and I'm heartless, but all along
I was lookin for a father he was gone
I hung around with the Thugs, and even though they sold drugs
They showed a young brother love
I moved out and started really hangin
I needed money of my own so I started slangin
I ain't guilty cause, even though I sell rocks
It feels good puttin money in your mailbox
I love payin rent when the rent's due
I hope ya got the diamond necklace that I sent to you
Cause when I was low you was there for me
And never left me alone because you cared for me
And I could see you comin home after work late
You're in the kitchen tryin to fix us a hot plate
Ya just workin with the scraps you was given
And mama made miracles every Thanksgivin
But now the road got rough, you're alone
You're tryin to raise two bad kids on your own
And there's no way I can pay you back
But my plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated- 2Pac "Dear Mama"



Where are you gonna go?
It’s like having to pee with no bathroom around; what do you do? You make one. You could simply wait around for something to happen; but when it comes to the point that that need becomes urgent enough you will do what you have to do. Conversely though, after someone does put a bathroom near you, are you going to stop peeing where you've become accustomed to doing so? A bit graphic of an analogy, I know, but analogous all the same. When you've been trained to perform a certain way through social expectations, will you ever be able to break that habit of performing those expectations, even when given opportunities to exceed and excel far beyond the limits of those expectations. It's like taking the blinders of a horse really. That, however, in no way obviates our personal responsibility to better ourselves individually. However, it is imperative that when it comes to placing judgment that we do not seek to condemn but, merely offer alternatives.

While I appreciate and can respect the entrepreneurial ingenuity it takes to be a successful drug dealer, it is something that I would never glorify to my children. This is mainly because I had an intervening force in my life that showed me a legal and legitimate way to do the things I needed to do to live everyday. My father, and at one point my mother also, would get up everyday early in the morning, get ready for work, get me ready for school, go to work, and come home everyday. There was always food on the table and love in the family. I saw from an early age that a positive work ethic can get you all the things you need in life. But maybe, I’m the exception and not the rule. And that in and of itself is sad enough...

When I was young me and my mama had beef
Seventeen years old kicked out on the streets
Though back at the time, I never thought I'd see her face
Ain't a woman alive that could take my mama's place
Suspended from school; and scared to go home, I was a fool
with the big boys, breakin all the rules
I shed tears with my baby sister
Over the years we was poorer than the other little kids
And even though we had different daddy's, the same drama
When things went wrong we'd blame mama
I reminice on the stress I caused, it was hell
Huggin on my mama from a jail cell
And who'd think in elementary?
Heeey! I see the penitentiary, one day
And runnin from the police, that's right
Mama catch me, put a whoopin to my backside
And even as a crack fiend, mama
You always was a black queen, mama
I finally understand
for a woman it ain't easy tryin to raise a man
You always was committed
A poor single mother on welfare, tell me how ya did it
There's no way I can pay you back
But the plan is to show you that I understand
You are appreciated -2Pac "Dear Mama"

''Our parents were always working, so we were latch-key kids, I guess,'' he remembers. ''The gang life had a strong pull on young kids. These were the people we looked up to; they had the jewelry and the girls.''- Donell Jones