Bullet Proof Soul

I remember getting my first taste of Hip Hop while I was away at boarding school. My parents were strict about secular music, so I was sheltered from radio, a LOT of television, as well as secular magazines. By the time I got hip to it, there had already been notable artists, exploding on the scene in NY.

I was amazed, fascinated, and overwhelmed. It was so cool to see young, black kids expressing themselves with their rhyme skills, telling their stories with sheer honesty. Real. Raw. Intense.

It was poetry over music.

It was beautiful.

There was no need to take piano lessons (my parents still bug me about dropping piano). There was no high priced instrument to buy. Hip Hop was genuine talent and it was the TRUTH. Cats like KRS1, Public Enemy, Eric B & Rakim, Tribe Called Quest, and many others literally opened my eyes to things my parents had been TRYING to buffer my whole life. For me, discovering Hip Hop was an awakening of sorts. One that I welcomed and found completely irresistible.

I was in LOVE. Completely sprung. As a teenager, with raging hormones, and very few brown boys in my school, I especially fixated on all the B boys, and hip hop artists who I thought were FINE. LL Cool J (still fine!), Doug E Fresh (he still makes me giddy to this day) and plenty of others. It was true admiration and adoration. They seemed larger than life to me.

I felt connected now. Hip Hop was my husband. I loved Hip Hop and Hip Hop loved me.

As Hip Hop emerged, it began to encompass more than music. Art, graffiti, and clothing became an extension of the collective consciousness of Hip Hop artists. It became a more influential powerhouse.

Hip Hop culture evolved and the rap game evolved with it. Or did it?

I saw the hip hop game transform from a medium for black men to express their pain to the same medium they used to inflict it.... on us... their sisters, mothers, mothers of their children, aunties, cousins, lovers, and wives.

What happened to joints that talked about us making it through together?

When did the lost/low self-esteem having/in need of fathers, uncles, and brothers -girl turn into a gold-digging/ho/bitch/ or slut, that is only good for shaking her phat booty and displaying her breasts?

At what point did we become faceless, emotionless, mindless bodies that bend over while someone swipes a credit card through the crack of our asses?

Honestly? I think women bear some responsibility for contributing to this mentality as the rappers that write those songs. Our attitudes, behaviors, mentalities, or simple support of the misogynistic messages (financial and verbal) makes us just as culpable for the perceptions that are formed about women. So does our silence.

I get conflicted when I hear songs with hot beats that I could "drop it like it's hot" to on the dance floor, but after hearing the lyrics that include name calling or something disrespectful, that dehumanizes, and dishonors women, I recoil.

If I shake my butt to these kinds of songs, isn't that condoning the message in the lyrics?

I don't think I would be running to the dance floor if I heard a hot beat from Maroon 5 or Maxwell if they used derogatory names or offensive lyrics, so why is it easier for me to do it when those words come from my beloved hip hop artists?

I compare it to the same mentality one has in an abusive relationship: I excuse the behavior. Love the offender, and continue to subject myself to the abuse. I overlook the bitches and hoes that are peppered through songs. I get mildly aroused hearing the Whisper Song (I hate admitting that shit). I imagine this to be a by-product of my early love affair with hip hop and its powerful impact on me.

But where do I draw the line?

When will I call Game Over on the rap game's continued theme of misogyny and negativity towards women? Should I disconnect altogether or is it possible to change the landscape of hip hop?

Most times I don’t even feel the same connection to hip hop music, and sometimes an even lesser bond with some of the hip hop culture (Hip Hop opulence irks me sometimes). I know it's because the dynamics of the rap game changed and I didn't change with it.

But how many black eyes will it take for me to fall out of love with hip hop?

Well, thankfully, all hip hop isn't misogynistic. There are hip hop artists who don't perpetuate stereotypes or hypersexualize black women. I have many artists I can listen to who still rhyme about black love. Artists that promote, praise, and uplift black women, instead of tearing them down. Even if they aren't wife'n us.



I still love and respect what they bring to the Hip Hop game.


Speaking of changing the landscape in hip hop, I am SO proud of Fresh! Not only did she win a Black Weblog award (much deserved) but her outstanding comment was published in a hip hop publication. She represented women well (especially Hip Hop lovers) and gave us a voice. Check that out!