I'll admit I'm a big hip-hop fan. I listened to "Whatta Man" repeatedly on cassette tape when I still thought boys had cooties. I was one of those kids who hid the parental advisory stickers from my parents and who tried to have a cool pose for every situation. I was a big Ja fan but when Curtis dropped "Get Rich or Die Tryin'," I switched sides. I'll be in attendance at Kellz' concert in a few weeks, and I could probably spit the lyrics to most songs that are currently played on 97.5.
I am most definitely a product of the hip-hop generation, but I often have to ask myself what this means. Does my love for hip-hop compromise my feminism or my desire for DuBois-style racial uplift?
As of late, a lot has been going on in the world of hip-hop. T.I. was arrested on firearms offenses, Bill Cosby and Alvin Poussaint assailed the hip-hop generation in their new book "Come on People: On the Path from Victims to Victors" and hip-hop's favorite female rap group, Salt-n-Pepa, debuted a new reality show on VH1. All of these events have sparked discussion about the state of hip-hop in America today. For people like me who love hip-hop, these discussions are absolutely integral to making the music better and more representative of the people who listen to it.
With the release of its "Hip-Hop vs. America" series, BET went against its traditional "black exploitation television" programming and offered the most thought-provoking and productive dialogue about hip-hop yet. Touré and Jeff Johnson, BET's newest television personalities, co-hosted the series, which featured T.I., Nelly, Michael Eric Dyson, Stanley Crouch, Karrine Steffans and other notable hip-hop names discussing the state of hip-hop today and the roles materialism, violence and sexism play in the music genre.
To open the discussion, Jeff Johnson asked, "Why is it that hip-hop continues to be attacked even though there are other genres of music that have had connections to the streets?"
"I feel like that someone just wants to have something to blame society's mistakes on and being that hip-hop is probably the youngest genre of music and the most popular, then we're the easiest people to blame," T.I. responded.
Hip-hop didn't create sexism, materialism or violence-these are traits common to American culture as a whole. But it is true that hip-hop perpetuates these negative aspects of American culture at extremely high rates to impressionable young children.
In each episode of "Hip-Hop vs. America," rappers, intellectuals, journalists and commentators all brought different perspectives to the discussion, causing bitter disagreements and raised voices all for the sake of making hip-hop better.
Rappers played their expected role, defending the music. Nelly, who has been attacked from all sides for his video "Tip Drill," responded to a question about how hip-hop music affects young girls with something along the lines of, "Well, my daughter is on the honor roll at school and she can pop, lock and drop it with the best of them." No need for another Nelly critique-the absurdity of this statement speaks for itself. As long as rappers like Nelly continue on this tradition of defense, standing up for the music and the choices that girls in videos make (i.e. the credit-card scene), it will be hard for hip-hop to progress.
But forums like "Hip-Hop vs. America," where rappers have to defend the music against people who can speak their language but who also critique hip-hop culture, force these rappers to think about the ways hip-hop can be improved. The goal isn't to uproot hip-hop from street culture but to make it about something beyond degrading, violent images.
T.I. is right: hip-hop culture is everywhere. You can go to a hip-hop club in Israel, and while I was in Ghana this summer, I listened to "Umbrella" on the radio in taxis. But there are times when I feel I have to protect myself from hip-hop culture because negative images and lyrics begin to seep into my brain and take over my thoughts. So I stopped watching videos, even though now when I'm in clubs I don't always know the correct dance moves.
I wish that I didn't have to take these precautions, though, and programs such as "Hip-Hop vs. America" could make that a reality. We have to keep the dialogue going; hip-hop has never been a static phenomenon. It's ever-changing, but this time around, we need to change it for the better.
Aria Branch is a Trinity junior. Her column runs every other Tuesday.
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