The task of defining a massive movement, such as hip hop feminism, in just a few words is difficult.
“In hip hop culture, where language bent and broken is art, insisting on a single label as a definitive moniker for a collective seems pointless… the name itself does not bring our causes to life” (Jeffries, 208).
In the book Home Girls Make Some Noise, Michael Jeffries critically analyzes and reconstructs the definition of hip hop feminism into two distinct points: to develop the concept of hip hop feminism and to present a variation of the hip hop feminist agenda. This essay will define the hip hop feminism movement based on my own lived experiences, a brother who has watched his little sisters grow up in a very imperative time for females in American. Hip hop feminism is a type of political movement, tradition, or philosophy that engages an audience through the medium of hip hop art and music.
The hip hop feminist agenda has been shifting ever since the origin of the movement, yet recently some feminists have migrated
“from one aimed primarily at critique to one of uplift, not of the music, but of segments of the population who consume it, specifically young African-American women and girls” (Peoples, 28).
The hip hop feminists once focused on the misogyny of male rappers and their brashness towards females, but they have since directed their attention towards making the females in the industry the subjects of discussion.
Hip hop feminism, in its simplest form, is the hybrid product that occurs when two major social movements collide. The hip hop culture embodies one of the largest art movements ever experienced in the United States; Meanwhile, feminism represents that same large scale movement ideology, focused on achieving equal rights for all people. Authors Durham, Cooper, and Morris argue that within the field of hip hop feminist studies, “hip-hop and feminism act as discrete but constitutive categories that share a dialogic relationship” (Durham, 722). The potential impact of such a massive effort is hardly fathomable, yet the goals are relatively apparent. In the journal written by Gwendolyn Pough, she claims that one of the premier goals of hip hop feminism is
“finding a way to combine feminism and hip-hop in politically meaningful ways” (Pough, 91).
The people who write and act under the label “hip hop feminist”, often do so with the goal of providing a political education and tools of critical analysis (Peoples, 29). These activists seem to be utilizing feminism as a means to analyze and
“critique the social, political, and economic structures that govern their lives and that give rise to the conditions that produce some of the violent and misogynist lyrics that dominate much of mainstream rap music” (Peoples, 29).
The hip hop feminist movement is empowering one of the most mistreated groups in America, black females, to take both a political and social stance against the inequality that is so prevalent in their lives.
Black and brown people have historically been treated as excessive to our society, this unjust notion has outright restricted
“how black and brown sexualities can be made intelligible in popular culture and academic discourse, both of which tend to represent women of color either as ladies and queens or as bitches and whores” (Durham, 725).
The underlying goal that comes from the hip hop feminism movement, is to redefine the images and depictions of females in one of the most misogynistic environments in our society, hip hop music.
The contradictions of hip hop feminism are by no means restricted to the women of the hip hop generation, as the this has been a longstanding issue amongst the feminism movement since its creation. The contradiction within the hip hop generation would be most evident in music videos, which for the most part, have essentially been a test of how many naked women can a director fit into a 3 minute long clip. There are few better examples of the phrase “sex sells” than in a hip hop music video, this is evident across the entire genre, from the most underground rap artists to the highest level of commercial hip hop. One major contradiction to hip hop feminism comes from an artist who is also at the forefront of this movement: Nicki Minaj. The Queen as she is often referred to, can be seen leading the charge for females place in this genre, yet at the same time, can be seen marketing her music with sex appeal. This example should not be taken as a knock against Nicki, but more as indicative of a larger issue within our patriarchal society. The fact that the biggest name amongst female rappers can be immediately associated with the sexy cover art on her albums demonstrates a fundamental problem in America. The cruel paradox that women experience throughout their life can also be seen from the other side, with artists like Noname struggling to gather mainstream attention because she doesn’t use her body in her marketing campaign. Our country as a whole needs to realize, if we keep buying sex from the media, they will continue to revamp it and sell it back to us.
In conclusion, the heart of the hip hop feminist movement lies in the hands of the audience, who must choose to either fuel this misogynistic culture, by streaming the music and videos that embody sexism, or give their support to artists that are trying to make a more profound statement. The reality is that the hip hop feminist agenda will continue to change alongside our society, yet its overall message can only be pushed by the choices of individuals in the audience. Each person must define hip hop feminism for themselves, determine the goals of this movement, and demonstrate the change that they want to see in the world.
The women of hip hop have been fighting an uphill battle ever since the movement gained traction in the South Bronx during the 1970s. The hyper sexualization of black women can be seen across the entire hip hop genre, particularly in music videos and raunchy lyrics from their male counterparts.
In the journal written by Aisha Durham, she references a time when a rap video sparked controversy by using a close-up shot of a girl’s behind; The Virginia Beach photoshoot “raised the collective awareness about the popular misrepresentation of black women in rap music, the marginal space we occupied in the hip hop imagination, the racist perception of some hip hop practitioners and participants, and the sexualized black body in the United States on a global scale” (Durham, 304). The issues that hip hop feminists face have not disappeared over the many decades since rap music’s fruition, in fact, Durham claims that nowadays there is less community outcry towards these issues than before. These pressing matters provoked the wave of hip hop feminism:
“a socio-cultural, intellectual, political movement grounded in the situated knowledge of women of color” (Durham, 306).
Hip hop has seen conventions take place around the country focused on various issues within the genre, most notably one aimed at squashing beef between the East and West Coasts. The dehumanization of women clearly signifies a pressing issue in the hip hop community, yet there have not been any largescale national movements dedicated to preventing this.
In order to keep hip hop feminism relevant for the future generations of females in America, they must continue to pose new questions that keep this conversation alive amongst the genre. The key question that has been floating around this topic for quite some time, pertains to the representation of black women in rap lyrics, but has been increasing its focus on the music videos. In today’s culture, hip hop music videos can be seen as “a kind of virtual sex tourism for the United States where rap music and the ideas about black sexuality that are enveloped within it serve as one of our leading cultural exports” (Durham, 309). The representation of our female youth in American pop culture promotes a toxic cycle that prevents “femcees” from achieving the level of popularity and artistic respect that seems practically automatic for their heteropatriarchal male colleagues.
The identity of females in the rap game has been an important aspect of their representation in the hip hop scene, author Cheryl Keyes established four categories to better understand and explain female MCs. “During the golden age of hip hop, Black women artists adopted a range of performance personae and their text/lyrics reflected various subject positions,” these became the defining characteristics that classified females in hip hop (Keyes, 313). The four categories described by Keyes are the Queen Mother, Fly Girl, Sista with Attitude, and Lesbian; Yet, these broad labels are highly subject to change as women rappers negotiate image, social values, political ideologies, and expectations of the music industry (Keyes, 313). While these tags provide a solid foundation for analyzing certain artists in this genre, there is still plenty of room for improvement. There are a lot more than four types of females in the world, however, they must present their personality to the world in order to establish their own unique style of hip hop. The hip hop feminist movement faces a tremendous number of obstacles and issues that prevent the artists from getting the recognition they deserve, yet that doesn’t mean it is time to give up; The only way to change the patriarchal culture of hip hop is to get involved, by increasing the number of female artists it allows for the audience to grow and develop the next generation of feminism.
The true origin of feminism traces back to the dawn of females, as the broad term encompasses a movement that takes place all around the world. In Joan Morgan’s book When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost she deconstructs the term down to simply the “f-word,” which later went on to characterize the hip hop movement as a type of “new black feminist movement.” Morgan continues on to provoke the concept of white feminist racism, particularly the role it played during the Women’s Liberation Movement of the 1960 and 70s.
“Feminism’s ivory tower elitism excludes the masses. And I was told that black women simply ‘didn’t have time for all that sh*t’” (Morgan, 53).
The author critiques this notion, she provides a long list of the struggles that black women actually don’t have time for, such as dying and suffering from exorbitant rates of solo parenting, domestic violence, and incarceration to name a few.
This demonstrates the excessive marginalization of non-white women during the Women’s Liberation Movement. The divide between these two groups led hip hop feminism to embody the spirit of an anti-racist branch of feminism. “White women’s racism and the Feminist Movement may explain the justifiable bad taste the f-word leaves in the mouths of women who are over thirty-five, but for my generation, they are abstractions drawn from someone else’s history” (Morgan, 53). The core of hip hop women’s ambivalence towards the f-word lies in black women’s historic tendency to instinctively defend any black man who comes onto the hot seat from white people – whether its men, women, media, or criminal justice system (Morgan, 54). Despite the possibility that their brothers could very well be guilty and deserve a fitting punishment; This is due to the centuries of being rendered helpless while racism, crime, poverty, and violence robbed them of their men – leaving the females to struggle with the repercussions (Morgan, 55).
Morgan still provokes the importance of who the feminists are as women, not victims; The idea of the Fem fatale, that claims that it’s not fatal to be a woman, nor is this movement about the victims. She begins to unveil her “very un-P.C., but very real questions” which begins with a crucial one:
“Can you be a good feminist and admit out loud that there are things you kinda dig about patriarchy?”
This prompted Joan Morgan to critically analyze hip hop feminism and everything it encompasses, including how it reflects the complexities and contradictions in hip hop culture. The two of these elements of hip hop accounts for the controversy and taboo that are so present in this community. Yet, the most apparent similarity appears in the vast forms of expressions for these movements; There is no distinct way to be a feminist, there is only feminism plural. There is no singularity present in either: no single group monopolizes feminism, just lie no single group monopolizes hip hop. Joan Morgan introduces the most significant notion from this book, the concept of functional feminism. This pushes for her audience to embrace a type of new type feminism,
“one that seeks empowerment on spiritual, material, physical, and emotional levels” (Morgan, 61).
Functional feminism encourages people to implement it into their lives, as we represent a unique generation that experiences the benefits from the Civil Rights Movements, such as Affirmative Action, government subsidized education, and social programs.
Joan Morgan provides an authentic analysis regarding the current state of hip hop in her “love letter” beginning on page 66. This note communicates, in genuine words, the pressing importance of females in this battle for equality; As they are the ones who must demonstrate that they are mothers and daughters, not merely bitches and hoes meant for entertainment in this patriarchal society.
The presence of the LGBTQIA+ community in hip hop has made exponential progress over the recent years, yet the transition has not been easy. In a hyper-masculine culture such as the hip hop movement, there has arguably been more resistance to queer folk’s presence in rap music than females. The LGBTQIA+ hip-hoppers face tremendous scrutiny throughout their entire careers in this industry, unfortunately, this discrimination reflects struggles that are all too familiar for the queer community; Aside from just hip hop, this bias against gay folk extends into the wider sphere of U.S. history, culture, politics, and society.
In the journal, Sista’ Outsider, authors Pritchard, and Bibbs provoke the question: When will the world be ready for a lesbian rapper? The hip hop culture continually “ignores the musical work of lesbian and bisexual women of color who refuse to court mainstream success by either denying or capitalizing on their sexuality” (Bibbs, 19). Andreana Clay drops a brutal line that puts an emphasis on the invisibility of black lesbians in the U.S.,
“As women who have sex with other women, Black lesbians have historically not been recognized as women in the Black community” (Clay, 151).
Those who critique the hip hop movement tend to write off the entire art form as misogynistic and prejudice based on the vulgar lyrics of mainstream rap. This assumption about hip hop is not entirely unwarranted, as the lyrical violence in the music directly attacks black women and the queer community. The destructive lyrics that appear in certain areas of hip hop
“only serve to mask male insecurity about issues of gender, power, and sexuality” (Bibbs, 19).
Pritchard and Bibbs begin to introduce this concept as a means of culturally condoned hate speech, which can be explained by how millennials will justify hip hop’s harsh lyrics with phrases like “it’s meaningless as long as its profitable.” In today’s connected world, the hip hop community is experiencing the importance of media coverage for spreading ideas and information. This also goes for the LGBT community, who have begun to use sites and blogs dedicated to communicating with one another, more importantly, they are creating an image for themselves.
The LGBT people represent a group that had long been rendered invisible by the mainstream, but the newfound media presence caused an embrace of queer style in the 2000s. The influence of queer styles in hip hop first took place in the music, with urban radio picking up on the electronic pop and dance styles from the 1980s. There was also an emerging remix culture taking place, as big-name commercial artists like Rihanna were remaking songs originally created by flamboyant and androgynous queers (Penney, 322).
The full hybrid between the isolated queer community and its mainstream hip hop counterpart can best be described with the example of Kanye West.
“West appeared in the video for his 2007 hit ‘stronger’ with a vintage denim vest, form-fitting jeans and T-shirt, and, most notably, large white ‘shutter-shade’” sunglasses, harking back to the excesses of early 1980s new wave fashion futurism” (Penney, 322-323).
The song Stronger also embodies this hybrid spirit, as its roots trace back to a Daft Punk track that made waves in the international gay club scene.
The Homo Hop movement is centered upon destroying and reconstituting identities that are
“fragmented and marginalized within a white hegemonic LGBTQ political movement and an anti-gay, anti-feminine, and heterosexist hip-hop social movement” (Wilson, 120).
While this battle is far from over, the past few decades in hip hop have been the foreground for monumental progress towards homosexuals in this industry; Being led by the goals and ideology of the homo hop movement, artists have begun using the medium of music as a platform for social justice and equality across the board.
Ever since the dawn of hip hop’s evolution, there has been something taboo about white artists contributing to the movement. In recent history, hip hop’s dominance can be seen on a global level, yet there is still a strong emphasis on the African-American roots within this genre. Despite the foundation of hip hop being built upon these traditions, there has still been a presence of white rappers in the music scene. This essay will analyze three critical components of Whiteness in hip hop: privilege, cultural appropriation, and participation.
The beauty of hip hop music, as well as an important characteristic that has led to its massive impact, is the inclusiveness of people from all walks of life. Since its early evolution in the Bronx, New York, the hip hop scene has welcomed contributions from various cultural groups, such as the Hispanics and lower/working classes in America. While the category of “white rappers” has existed since the fruition of hip hop, it has not necessarily been taken seriously. Hip hop represents a
“music form where credibility is often negotiated through an artist’s experiences of social struggle,”
this sense of validity makes it hard for socially privileged artists to establish themselves in the community (Hess, 372). Yet, the lack of an authentic social struggle amongst a large percentage of white people in America, has actually caused an increase in their presence as an audience. The white community’s curiosity about what life in the hood is like has led them to be one of the largest listeners of hip hop music; Due to their excessive privilege, white suburban kids in America do not know the struggles that truly fueled hip hop. Mickey Hess describes this sense of racelessness in his journal:
“White identity gets erased in white discourse as it becomes the default racial position; likewise, the social privilege that whiteness accords remain unspoken among white (Hess, 376).
The concept behind this unique interest, is that every other group in the U.S. has a sense of race except white people;
They are racially neutral, so they don’t embody race at all. Naturally, the lack of racial identity within the white community caused an epidemic of cultural appropriation to ensue. This issue of appropriation can be traced back to performers like Elvis Presley or Al Jolson who took black culture and tried to place it in the spotlight. Rodman provokes a strong comparison relating to this issue: that the characteristics of this musical segregation directly mirrors the social segregation of race in America (Rodman, 186). While slightly less controversial than the blackface trend, the most notable example of cultural appropriation within hip hop, would have to be Vanilla Ice. “This concept of white/black interaction has led white artists either to imitate the rags-to-riches narratives of black artists,” such as the exaggerated biography that Vanilla Ice released in the 1990s, “or to invert these narratives, as Eminem does to frame his whiteness as part of his struggle to succeed as a hip-hop artist” (Hess, 372). The difference in these two artists signifies the shift in importance from racial identity to racial authenticity. Alongside the shift in authenticity, “white artists have moved from immersing themselves in a nascent music culture to imitating an explicit model of the black authentic, to inverting the narratives of black artists to frame their whiteness as a career disadvantage in a form that remains dominated by black artists” (Hess, 375).
This leads to the importance of deconstructing these racial identities within hip hop, particularly in the refusal to ignore Whiteness and its privilege, which therefore exposes Whiteness to create racial identities moving beyond domination and toward liberation (Fraley, 40). The concepts regarding race stand as some of the most fundamental aspects of the hip hop movement, yet this foundation is not concrete as the existence of white rappers keep has been dynamically changing since the beginning.
References
Clay, A. (2012). I Used to Be Scared of the Dick: Queer Women of Color and Hip-Hop Masculinity. That’s The Joint!: The Hip-Hop Studies Reader (pp. 348-357).
Durham, A. (2007). Using [Living Hip-Hop] Feminism: Redefining an Answer (to) Rap. Home Girls Make Some Noise: Hip Hop Feminism Anthology (pp. 304-312).
Durham, A., Cooper, B. C., & Morris, S. M. (2013). The Stage Hip-Hop Feminism Built: A New Directions Essay. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 38(3), 722-737.
Forman, M., & Neal, M. A. (Eds.). (2012). That’s The Joint!: The Hip-Hop Studies Reader (2nd ed.). New York: Routledge.
Fraley, T. (2009). I Got a Natural Skill…: Hip-Hop, Authenticity, and Whiteness. Howard Journal of Communications, 20(1), 37-54.
Hess, M. (2005). Hip-hop Realness and the White Performer. Critical Studies in Media Communication, 22(5), 372-389.
Jefferies, M. (2007). Re: Definitions: The Name and Game of Hip-Hop Feminism. Home Girls Make Some Noise: Hip Hop Feminism Anthology (pp. 208-227).
Keyes, C. L. (2017). Ain’t Nuthin’ but a She Thang: Women in Hip Hop. Issues in African American Music, 306-328.
Morgan, J. (1999). When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost: A Hip-Hop Feminist Breaks It Down. New York: Simon & Schuster Paperbacks.
Neal, M. A., & Morgan, J. (2007). In Home Girls Make Some Noise: Hip Hop Feminism Anthology. Mira Loma, CA: Parker Pub.
Penney, J. (2012). “We Don’t Wear Tight Clothes”: Gay Panic and Queer Style in Contemporary Hip Hop. Popular Music and Society,35(3), 321-332.
Peoples, W. A. (2008). Under Construction: Identifying Foundations of Hip-Hop Feminism and Exploring Bridges between Black Second-Wave and Hip-Hop Feminisms. Meridians: Feminism, Race, Transnationalism,8(1), 19-52.
Pough, G. D. (2007). What It Do, Shorty?: Women, Hip-Hop, and a Feminist Agenda. Black Women, Gender Families,1(2), 78-99.
Pritchard, E. D., & Bibbs, M. L. (2007). Sista’ Outsider: Queer Women of Color and Hip Hop. In Home Girls Make Some Noise: Hip Hop Feminism Anthology (pp. 19-40).
Rodman, G. B. (2012). Race…and Other Four-Letter Words: Eminem and the Cultural Politics of Authenticity. In That’s The Joint!: The Hip-Hop Studies Reader (pp. 179-198).
Wilson, D. (2007). Post-Pomo Hip-Hop Homos: Hip-Hop Art, Gay Rappers, and Social Change. Social Justice, 34(1), 117-140.