Saturday morning I woke up to a text from a friend alerting me that the 2008 State of the Black Union was on. I rolled out of bed and flipped to C-Span, and proceeded to watch approximately six hours (two full panel discussions) of stimulating commentary on issues like welfare, education, campaign finance reform, foreign policy, employment, terrorism, racism, sexism, genocide and of course, Hillary and Barack. Hosted by the incomparable Tavis Smiley, the event was a phenomenal success; it culminated with an interview with democratic presidential hopeful Senator Clinton. Black intellectuals like Dr. Michael Eric Dyson, Dr. Cornell West, and Dr. Na’im Akbar (just to name a few) spoke alongside elected officials such as New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin and congressmen and women from both sides of the aisle. It was, simply put, awesome.

My wife and I were glued to the screen. Except for bathroom breaks, eating and the occasional side conversation I watched the whole thing start to finish. Despite the inclusion on the panels of two students, one an undergrad from Dillard and the other a high school student from Ohio, the phrase “Hip Hop” was not mentioned once.

Not one single time.

Sunday I attended a think-tank session at North Carolina A&T State University which served as the kick-off event for a week-long series of symposia centered around the Kerner Commission’s Report four decades ago. That session featured none other than Tavis Smiley and Cornell West. After hearing each man deliver a rousing lecture about the context of the Commission’s warning that America was headed for a stark racial divide, I seized my opportunity to alert Tavis to the previous day’s omission of Hip Hop despite its cultural and economic influence on America. I asked him (based on his extensive coverage of the candidates for the 2008 presidency) did he think that Hip Hop would ever have a political influence as well. His answer was a safe one. He replied that Hip Hop has the potential for political influence through the mobilizing of younger generations, vis-à-vis Hip Hop. He cited the Obama Campaign as one that has united and inspired millions of young people to get involved with the political process and take steps to control their own life situations though discourse about “the issues."

Wednesday night I went to hear Dr. Dyson lecture at the University of North Carolina Greensboro. That brother’s intellect and education are astounding (which I already knew) but for some reason his analysis of the multiple roles of Hip Hop in contemporary black culture and their implications for race relations in a post-civil rights era absolutely blew me away. Maybe it was an accumulation effect of hearing so many intellectuals weigh-in on so many different yet converging issues in such a small period of time (Saturday-Wednesday). Whatever it was, I was profoundly affected by his talk to say the least.

Fast forward to Friday night. A friend had asked me to videotape a super sweet-16 birthday party that he was deejaying, and I went. It was a mega-party, just like the ones you see on MTV where the spoiled princess gets to have everyone make a big fuss about her and her dress and her new car and the artist she had perform, etc. Everything was everything until a fight broke out and shots were fired in the parking lot.

My intellectually-induced high was completely gone. There are few better reminders of the fucked up state of black folks in this society than a birthday party for 16-year old kids being broken up by gun violence. On the final day of Black History Month, no less.

With these things in mind allow me to share with you my own answer to my above question for Mr. Smiley. And trust me, it’s anything but safe.

I’m an expert
I recently had an interesting discussion with a friend of mine about (among other things) whether or not Hip Hop should celebrate its pension for commercialism and big business. The conversation (like many of mine tend to do) gravitated towards Jay-Z. I argued passionately (if not convincingly) that Jay represents the capitalistic culmination of a rich artistic culture in which the marginalized are afforded not only a voice, but an investment in the ever-growing worldwide economy. If Hip Hop is a culture (which it is) then it cannot be divorced from the fiscal responsibility that drives each and every one of us to eat, work and live on a daily basis. My opponent argued the converse, that it is precisely corporate America’s capitalistic interest in the music industry that inherently perverts, subvents, commoditizes, and ultimately devalues not only Hip Hop, but jazz, the blues, and all artforms. In an emotional display of pure sincerity he declared that as a black man, he could not celebrate Hip Hop’s ascension into the boardroom because art, as a fundamental extension and therefore expression of the pain, suffering, humiliation, joy, birth, triumph, and eventual redemption of the black spirit is infinitely too valuable to put a price tag on.

At one point in the debate my Hip Hop credibility was questioned. If you know me, then you know that although I was raised in the hood, my upbringing was much more Will Smith than Todd Smith. I went to good schools, had a momma and a daddy who loved me (still do, I think), and was never told that I couldn’t be what I wanted to be or get what I wanted to get out of life. Born in 1979, I lived the first 18 years of my life outside of Hip Hop. Sure, I listened to some rap music on the radio, and I even had some cross colors, but I was not Hip Hop by any stretch of the imagination. It wasn’t until I got to black college America that I began to appreciate the essence of Hip Hop as rejection of social, economic, and political oppression in this country. Because of this time-delay, I missed albums like Pubic Enemy’s It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, Wu-Tang’s Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers), Nas’ Illmatic, Raekwon’s Only Built 4 Cuban Linx, N.W.A.’s Straight Outta Compton and a bunch of other Hip Hop classics. Of course, Since I found Hip Hop, or should I say since Hip Hop found me, I’ve begun to retro-actively digest albums (and events) that I did not experience in real time. Continued on page 2 »