Hip-hop Matters
I wrote this paper when I was a freshman at George Washington. It is titled "Hip-Hop and Jazz: White Assimilation in Two Eras of Black Culture." Feedback is encouraged for anyone willing to criticize. Please criticize!!! I intended for this blog to be interactive with its viewers and I have yet to get any comments on my entries. Please forgive the format, blogger apparently doesn't allow you to post Word files.
Shea Kelly
American Literature, Sect. 11
5-10-06
Hip-Hop and Jazz: White Assimilation in Two Eras of Black Culture
In today’s America, no culture is more prevalent and influential than hip-hop culture, an expansive institution encompassing music, fashion, dance, attitude, and politics. In 1998, rap, once a genre of music relegated to the fringes of society, outsold country (the reigning U.S. format) for the first time (Scott). Ironically, 70 percent of the albums were purchased by whites (Scott). Though hip-hop is an inherently black culture since its beginnings in the 1970s it is now being widely adhered to by whites. This phenomenon of whites assimilating to black culture is not new, as it can be traced back to the jazz age of the 1950s, as young white “hipsters” and “beatniks” devoted themselves to the black music scene:
“Jazz, rock n’ roll, soul, and R&B each have large devoted white audience members, many of whom share traits with Norman Mailer’s “white negroes,” young white listeners trying to perfect a model of correct white hipness, coolness, and style by adopting the latest black style and image. Young white listeners’ genuine pleasure and commitment to black music are necessarily affected by dominant racial discourses regarding African-Americans, the politics of racial segregation, and cultural difference in the United States” (Rose, 5).
In On The Road, Sal and Dean fit this image particularly well and lead the reader to inquire about the driving forces behind their obsession with the jazz scene. Likewise, the same inquiries arise when observing the modern trend of young suburban white kids associating themselves with the hip-hop world. There are certainly similarities between the motivations of these two generations, and the social and racial circumstances which surround their actions.
From a basic standpoint, there are two definite shared origins for Sal and Dean’s attraction to jazz and contemporary white youths’ affinity to hip-hop: girls (and sexism, misogyny) and homophobia. In On The Road, Sal, and Dean in particular, frequently partake in womanizing to the point of borderline misogyny. They are obsessed with women and are greatly exhilarated by the idea of going out on the town to jazz clubs with girls: “The girls came down and we started out on our big night, once more pushing the car down the street. “Wheeoo! Let’s go!” cried Dean, and we jumped in the back seat and clanked to the little Harlem on Folsom Street” (pg. 197). In today’s hip-hop world, misogyny and the exploitation of women is abundant, as “bitch” is used excessively in lyrics and strippers or otherwise scantily clad women (aka “video hoes”) frequent rap videos. This image of male dominance is enticing to young men, especially whites, as they are the furthest removed from the imagery and thus perceive it in a fantastic nature.
Homophobia is also an issue which Sal and Dean identify with in relation to the jazz clubs. Sal and Dean ridicule gays in several instances, especially when they hitch a ride from a “tall, thin fag” and proceed to call his car a “fag Plymouth” (pg. 207). This homophobic tone is echoed by some of the black jazz musicians in the story, as on page 200 when a “white hipster fairy” asks to play drums with a group of musicians and they regard him suspiciously and proceed to mock his playing. Homophobia is also deeply grounded in rap, and is especially prevalent in the lyrics of Eminem (who often uses it for satirical purposes), who white listeners strongly identify with. Since homophobia is most blatantly practiced (whether genuinely or not) by hip-hop’s only successful white artist, white male audiences are naturally drawn in by the music and its sentiments, as it is a testament to their manliness.
Psychologically, there are also some shared motivations between Sal and Dean’s and present-day white kids’ adherence to their respective black cultures. In On The Road, jazz music and clubs provide Sal and Dean with a sense of escape from the monotony of their relatively uneventful lives. Experiencing the thrill of live jazz gives them a sense rebellion, as jazz music is of a rebellious nature. The same can be said of white kids who listen to hardcore rap like Public Enemy:
“Black people used to wonder how a problack nationalist group like P.E. garnered a large, loyal, white fan base. It was simple: Public Enemy rocked and rebelled, literally, against the status quo. There is an endearing part of the white American mind that as teenagers (and less often as adults) detests the outward manifestations of this nation’s mainstream culture” (George, 66).
Sal and Dean were also attracted by the spirituality of free jazz and the pure energy and liveliness it exudes. The excitement Sal and Dean derided from experiencing jazz clubs can be seen in their adamant wails of “Blow! Blow! Blow!” In the same sense, hip-hop draws in white listeners with its energetic, rapid flow of words and beats, especially with lyrically-gifted artists such as Talib Kweli, Blackalicious, and Outkast (whose listeners are primarily white).
The famous “I wish I were a Negro” passage (pg. 179) reveals a lot about Sal’s reasons for wanting to be a part of black society. As he is walking through the “dark mysterious streets” he yearns to be a minority and expresses a tone of admiration as he observes the lower-class neighborhood around him. White devotees to hip-hop have quite similar feelings as they can only live vicariously through the lives of rappers and have an admiration for their (supposedly) tough upbringings. As social theorist William Wimsatt argues, white youths “suspect they wouldn’t make it through what inner-city blacks do, so there’s an embedded admiration that’s almost visceral” (qtd. in Watkins, 97). The sense of danger surrounding the (usually former) lives of hip-hop artists portrays black society as a “more “authentic” underclass than the hated “yuppies” or “boomers” who run society” (Ozersky). In many ways, Sal and the young white people of today are attracted to black culture because they can never genuinely be included in it, which gives the lifestyle a sense of mystery worth pursuing.
The integration of white people into black culture is naturally going to result in social and racial tension and complication. Anytime a minority attempts to incorporate itself into a majority, the integrity and authenticity of the majority comes into question. In this situation, much of the difficulty revolves around the motives of the white individuals attempting to include themselves in the black culture. These motives can be observed and analyzed in terms of their social impact in both On The Road and in the current infusion of hip-hop culture. Sal and Dean generally seem to be sincere in their experiences listening to jazz and attending jazz clubs. Their enthusiasm and astute knowledge of the music is clearly defined, and they appreciate and connect with the musicians:
“Dean was directly in front of him with his face lowered to the bell of the horn, clapping his hands, pouring sweat on the man’s keys, and the man noticed and laughed in his horn a long quivering crazy laugh, and everybody else laughed and they rocked and rocked; and finally the tenorman decided to blow his top and crouched down and held a note in high C for a long time as everything else crashed along and the cries increased and I thought the cops would come swarming from the nearest precinct” (pg. 198).
Conversely, Sal seems to have an inherently racist disposition which can often be seen in his language. He always refers to blacks in the narrative as “Negroes,” an archaic and insensitive term, and often describes jazz musicians as “crazy” or “madmen.” On page 199, he depicts a black tenorman as a “Negro Hassel.” All of these terms tend to portray some of the black characters Sal encounters as comical, forming an unfair caricature of blacks in the 1950s reminiscent of minstrel show stereotypes. There are also many contemporary theories behind the questionable motives of white people who assimilate to hip-hop culture. Some would argue that white kids are merely appropriating black culture, and in doing so exercising a sort of “white supremacy.” Sociologist Bill Yousman argues this act of appropriation emulates that of white minstrel performers:
“White youth adoption of black cultural forms in the 21st century is also a performance, one that allows whites to contain their fears and animosities toward blacks through rituals not of ridicule, as in previous eras, but of adoration. Thus, although the motives behind their performance may initially appear to be different, the act is still a manifestation of white supremacy that is in crisis and disarray, rifle with confusion and contradiction” (qtd. in Kitwana, 103).
Although this viewpoint is quite radical and pessimistic, it provides the interesting notion that the racist institutions of our society’s past can still have subconscious effects on our current relations, which is why “wiggers” (as Sal and Dean may have been) are met with such skepticism in contemporary America.
White involvement in black culture, whether directly (as rap artists, record producers, dancers, etc.) or indirectly (emulation), has been met with both positive and negative reactions from all reaches of society. In On The Road, the “white hipster fairy” on page 200 who asks to play (active acceptance and participation in a black pastime) with the black jazz musicians is met with suspicion, but the musicians allow him to join them. They end up sardonically mocking him: ““What that man doing?” he said. “Play the music!” he said. “What in hell!” he said. “Shh-ee-eet!” and looked away disgusted.”” So although the odd white guy is accepted by the jazz players, he is only tolerated to a certain extent. Many current hip-hop artists view white participants in their culture with comparable suspicions. Tricia Rose notes, “some rappers have equated white participation with a process of dilution and subsequent theft of black culture” (Rose, 5). These thoughts are echoed by artists like Dead Prez in their song “It’s Bigger Than Hip-Hop,” Common in The Roots’ track “Act Too…The Love of My Life,” and Mos Def with “Rock ‘N’ Roll” (in which he asserts, “Elvis Presley ain’t got no soul / Chuck Berry is rock n’ rock). When the hip-hop industry’s most powerful artist, and arguably most talented – Eminem - is white, then a backlash is inevitable. Although Eminem is well-liked and highly respected within most of the hip-hop community, he is also the target of many criticisms and accusations. His racial tolerance was brought into question in 2003 when The Source magazine (whose owner Dave Mays and associate Ray Benzino had long-time personal vendettas with Eminem) released rare tapes from Eminem’s early days which featured sexist and racist lyrics against black women. Mays and Benzino, along with other hip-hop “purists,” have expressed the belief that Eminem is well on his way to becoming hip-hop’s Elvis, referring to how Elvis became the face of rock n’ roll, essentially stealing the identity of a black American creation. The concern that hip-hop is losing its true identity is rightly justified, as the same phenomenon happened to rock n’ roll (and jazz to a lesser extent, i.e. Kenny G), and will be a continual issue as hip-hop becomes more homogenized.
One aspect of white involvement in black culture, specifically music, which has been beneficial (but at the same time compromising) is that it promoted the movement to be accepted by the masses. Beginning in the 1930s, jazz began to progress from an esoteric music form to one of commercial relevance.
“As it did [moved into recording studios], it was picked up not only by black artists – Cab Calloway, Count Basie, and Lionel Hampton – but by white band leaders as well – Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, and Artie Shaw. In this mixed jazz culture, the music became hybridized and, to simplify the point, was changed so that people could dance to it” (Bernard-Donals, 127).
The social aspect introduced to jazz can repeatedly be observed in On The Road, as Sal and Dean often dance to jazz with their girls (whoever they may be at the time). Just as white jazz band leaders were able to make jazz more accessible in the 1930s, white producers and musicians were able to make rock n’ roll a part of popular culture in the ‘50s. In 1953, Sun Records (home of Elvis, Johnny Cash, and Roy Orbison) producer Sam Phillips had a tremendous business idea: “If I could get me a white boy with that black sound, I could make a million dollars” (qtd. in Ozersky). Although recent adoptions of the same philosophy have brought gimmicky acts like Vanilla Ice, House of Pain, and Kid Rock to the hip-hop industry, they have also produced lucrative results. In the last two decades, the majority of hip-hop labels and companies have been owned and operated by white businessmen, and this has not necessarily had negative repercussions on the hip-hop community. As Nelson George, renowned African-American cultural author explains:
“On the owner front, I’d argue that without white entrepreneurial involvement hip-hop culture wouldn’t have survived its first half decade on vinyl. It is indisputable that black-owned independents like Sugar Hill, Enjoy, and Winley cultivated and supported hip-hop from 1979 to 1981. But it was white small-businesspeople who nurtured it next” (George, 57).
From a commercial standpoint, white involvement in black culture has been entirely fruitful, although the concept of popularizing a tradition that is inherently exclusive and thus fragile to overexposure may deaden the successes gained by hip-hop culture’s ascension into the mainstream. Ultimately, the role white involvement played in the progression of black culture into the status quo is delicately balanced between promotion and exploitation.
The assimilation of whites into black culture is a social phenomenon that has occurred throughout the majority of the 20th century and into the 21st. Young white people have always gravitated towards black culture. Whether this attraction is caused by a genuine appreciation of the lifestyle, misplaced infatuation, or even an attempt to appropriate the culture due to subconscious racism, there will continue to be complicated social dynamics surrounding this issue. Hip-hop has become imbedded in the social fabric of America, and is constantly influencing the actions of American youth. As hip-hop pioneer and Def Jam Records founder Russell Simmons observed, “I see hip-hop culture as the new American mainstream. We don’t change for you; you adapt to us” (qtd. in Williams).
Works Cited
1. Bernard-Donals, Michael. “Jazz, Rock ‘n’ Roll, Rap and Politics.” Journal of Popular
Culture 28 (1994): 127-138. Academic Search Premier. EBSCO. Gelman Library. 5 May 2006..
2. George, Nelson. Hip hop America. New York: Viking, 1998.
3. Kitwana, Bakari. Why White Kids Love Hip-Hop. New York: Basic Civitas Books,
2005.
4. Ozersky, Josh. “The White Negro Revisited.” Tikkun 15.5 (2000): 61-63. Academic
Search Premier. EBSCO. Gelman Library. 2 April 2006..
5. Rose, Tricia. Black Noise. Hanover, NH: Wesleyan University Press, 1994.
6. Scott, Cathy. “Rap goes from urban streets to Main Street.” Christian Science Monitor
91.63 (1999): 1-3. Academic Search Premier. EBSCO. Gelman Library. 2 April 2006..
7. Watkins, S. Craig. Hip hop matters: politics, pop culture, and the struggle for the soul
of a movement. Boston: Beacon Press, 2005.
8. Williams, Armstrong. “Hip hop.” New York Amsterdam News 97 (2006): 13-15.
Academic Search Premier. EBSCO. Gelman Library. 5 May 2006..
Shea Kelly
American Literature, Sect. 11
5-10-06
Hip-Hop and Jazz: White Assimilation in Two Eras of Black Culture
In today’s America, no culture is more prevalent and influential than hip-hop culture, an expansive institution encompassing music, fashion, dance, attitude, and politics. In 1998, rap, once a genre of music relegated to the fringes of society, outsold country (the reigning U.S. format) for the first time (Scott). Ironically, 70 percent of the albums were purchased by whites (Scott). Though hip-hop is an inherently black culture since its beginnings in the 1970s it is now being widely adhered to by whites. This phenomenon of whites assimilating to black culture is not new, as it can be traced back to the jazz age of the 1950s, as young white “hipsters” and “beatniks” devoted themselves to the black music scene:
“Jazz, rock n’ roll, soul, and R&B each have large devoted white audience members, many of whom share traits with Norman Mailer’s “white negroes,” young white listeners trying to perfect a model of correct white hipness, coolness, and style by adopting the latest black style and image. Young white listeners’ genuine pleasure and commitment to black music are necessarily affected by dominant racial discourses regarding African-Americans, the politics of racial segregation, and cultural difference in the United States” (Rose, 5).
In On The Road, Sal and Dean fit this image particularly well and lead the reader to inquire about the driving forces behind their obsession with the jazz scene. Likewise, the same inquiries arise when observing the modern trend of young suburban white kids associating themselves with the hip-hop world. There are certainly similarities between the motivations of these two generations, and the social and racial circumstances which surround their actions.
From a basic standpoint, there are two definite shared origins for Sal and Dean’s attraction to jazz and contemporary white youths’ affinity to hip-hop: girls (and sexism, misogyny) and homophobia. In On The Road, Sal, and Dean in particular, frequently partake in womanizing to the point of borderline misogyny. They are obsessed with women and are greatly exhilarated by the idea of going out on the town to jazz clubs with girls: “The girls came down and we started out on our big night, once more pushing the car down the street. “Wheeoo! Let’s go!” cried Dean, and we jumped in the back seat and clanked to the little Harlem on Folsom Street” (pg. 197). In today’s hip-hop world, misogyny and the exploitation of women is abundant, as “bitch” is used excessively in lyrics and strippers or otherwise scantily clad women (aka “video hoes”) frequent rap videos. This image of male dominance is enticing to young men, especially whites, as they are the furthest removed from the imagery and thus perceive it in a fantastic nature.
Homophobia is also an issue which Sal and Dean identify with in relation to the jazz clubs. Sal and Dean ridicule gays in several instances, especially when they hitch a ride from a “tall, thin fag” and proceed to call his car a “fag Plymouth” (pg. 207). This homophobic tone is echoed by some of the black jazz musicians in the story, as on page 200 when a “white hipster fairy” asks to play drums with a group of musicians and they regard him suspiciously and proceed to mock his playing. Homophobia is also deeply grounded in rap, and is especially prevalent in the lyrics of Eminem (who often uses it for satirical purposes), who white listeners strongly identify with. Since homophobia is most blatantly practiced (whether genuinely or not) by hip-hop’s only successful white artist, white male audiences are naturally drawn in by the music and its sentiments, as it is a testament to their manliness.
Psychologically, there are also some shared motivations between Sal and Dean’s and present-day white kids’ adherence to their respective black cultures. In On The Road, jazz music and clubs provide Sal and Dean with a sense of escape from the monotony of their relatively uneventful lives. Experiencing the thrill of live jazz gives them a sense rebellion, as jazz music is of a rebellious nature. The same can be said of white kids who listen to hardcore rap like Public Enemy:
“Black people used to wonder how a problack nationalist group like P.E. garnered a large, loyal, white fan base. It was simple: Public Enemy rocked and rebelled, literally, against the status quo. There is an endearing part of the white American mind that as teenagers (and less often as adults) detests the outward manifestations of this nation’s mainstream culture” (George, 66).
Sal and Dean were also attracted by the spirituality of free jazz and the pure energy and liveliness it exudes. The excitement Sal and Dean derided from experiencing jazz clubs can be seen in their adamant wails of “Blow! Blow! Blow!” In the same sense, hip-hop draws in white listeners with its energetic, rapid flow of words and beats, especially with lyrically-gifted artists such as Talib Kweli, Blackalicious, and Outkast (whose listeners are primarily white).
The famous “I wish I were a Negro” passage (pg. 179) reveals a lot about Sal’s reasons for wanting to be a part of black society. As he is walking through the “dark mysterious streets” he yearns to be a minority and expresses a tone of admiration as he observes the lower-class neighborhood around him. White devotees to hip-hop have quite similar feelings as they can only live vicariously through the lives of rappers and have an admiration for their (supposedly) tough upbringings. As social theorist William Wimsatt argues, white youths “suspect they wouldn’t make it through what inner-city blacks do, so there’s an embedded admiration that’s almost visceral” (qtd. in Watkins, 97). The sense of danger surrounding the (usually former) lives of hip-hop artists portrays black society as a “more “authentic” underclass than the hated “yuppies” or “boomers” who run society” (Ozersky). In many ways, Sal and the young white people of today are attracted to black culture because they can never genuinely be included in it, which gives the lifestyle a sense of mystery worth pursuing.
The integration of white people into black culture is naturally going to result in social and racial tension and complication. Anytime a minority attempts to incorporate itself into a majority, the integrity and authenticity of the majority comes into question. In this situation, much of the difficulty revolves around the motives of the white individuals attempting to include themselves in the black culture. These motives can be observed and analyzed in terms of their social impact in both On The Road and in the current infusion of hip-hop culture. Sal and Dean generally seem to be sincere in their experiences listening to jazz and attending jazz clubs. Their enthusiasm and astute knowledge of the music is clearly defined, and they appreciate and connect with the musicians:
“Dean was directly in front of him with his face lowered to the bell of the horn, clapping his hands, pouring sweat on the man’s keys, and the man noticed and laughed in his horn a long quivering crazy laugh, and everybody else laughed and they rocked and rocked; and finally the tenorman decided to blow his top and crouched down and held a note in high C for a long time as everything else crashed along and the cries increased and I thought the cops would come swarming from the nearest precinct” (pg. 198).
Conversely, Sal seems to have an inherently racist disposition which can often be seen in his language. He always refers to blacks in the narrative as “Negroes,” an archaic and insensitive term, and often describes jazz musicians as “crazy” or “madmen.” On page 199, he depicts a black tenorman as a “Negro Hassel.” All of these terms tend to portray some of the black characters Sal encounters as comical, forming an unfair caricature of blacks in the 1950s reminiscent of minstrel show stereotypes. There are also many contemporary theories behind the questionable motives of white people who assimilate to hip-hop culture. Some would argue that white kids are merely appropriating black culture, and in doing so exercising a sort of “white supremacy.” Sociologist Bill Yousman argues this act of appropriation emulates that of white minstrel performers:
“White youth adoption of black cultural forms in the 21st century is also a performance, one that allows whites to contain their fears and animosities toward blacks through rituals not of ridicule, as in previous eras, but of adoration. Thus, although the motives behind their performance may initially appear to be different, the act is still a manifestation of white supremacy that is in crisis and disarray, rifle with confusion and contradiction” (qtd. in Kitwana, 103).
Although this viewpoint is quite radical and pessimistic, it provides the interesting notion that the racist institutions of our society’s past can still have subconscious effects on our current relations, which is why “wiggers” (as Sal and Dean may have been) are met with such skepticism in contemporary America.
White involvement in black culture, whether directly (as rap artists, record producers, dancers, etc.) or indirectly (emulation), has been met with both positive and negative reactions from all reaches of society. In On The Road, the “white hipster fairy” on page 200 who asks to play (active acceptance and participation in a black pastime) with the black jazz musicians is met with suspicion, but the musicians allow him to join them. They end up sardonically mocking him: ““What that man doing?” he said. “Play the music!” he said. “What in hell!” he said. “Shh-ee-eet!” and looked away disgusted.”” So although the odd white guy is accepted by the jazz players, he is only tolerated to a certain extent. Many current hip-hop artists view white participants in their culture with comparable suspicions. Tricia Rose notes, “some rappers have equated white participation with a process of dilution and subsequent theft of black culture” (Rose, 5). These thoughts are echoed by artists like Dead Prez in their song “It’s Bigger Than Hip-Hop,” Common in The Roots’ track “Act Too…The Love of My Life,” and Mos Def with “Rock ‘N’ Roll” (in which he asserts, “Elvis Presley ain’t got no soul / Chuck Berry is rock n’ rock). When the hip-hop industry’s most powerful artist, and arguably most talented – Eminem - is white, then a backlash is inevitable. Although Eminem is well-liked and highly respected within most of the hip-hop community, he is also the target of many criticisms and accusations. His racial tolerance was brought into question in 2003 when The Source magazine (whose owner Dave Mays and associate Ray Benzino had long-time personal vendettas with Eminem) released rare tapes from Eminem’s early days which featured sexist and racist lyrics against black women. Mays and Benzino, along with other hip-hop “purists,” have expressed the belief that Eminem is well on his way to becoming hip-hop’s Elvis, referring to how Elvis became the face of rock n’ roll, essentially stealing the identity of a black American creation. The concern that hip-hop is losing its true identity is rightly justified, as the same phenomenon happened to rock n’ roll (and jazz to a lesser extent, i.e. Kenny G), and will be a continual issue as hip-hop becomes more homogenized.
One aspect of white involvement in black culture, specifically music, which has been beneficial (but at the same time compromising) is that it promoted the movement to be accepted by the masses. Beginning in the 1930s, jazz began to progress from an esoteric music form to one of commercial relevance.
“As it did [moved into recording studios], it was picked up not only by black artists – Cab Calloway, Count Basie, and Lionel Hampton – but by white band leaders as well – Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, and Artie Shaw. In this mixed jazz culture, the music became hybridized and, to simplify the point, was changed so that people could dance to it” (Bernard-Donals, 127).
The social aspect introduced to jazz can repeatedly be observed in On The Road, as Sal and Dean often dance to jazz with their girls (whoever they may be at the time). Just as white jazz band leaders were able to make jazz more accessible in the 1930s, white producers and musicians were able to make rock n’ roll a part of popular culture in the ‘50s. In 1953, Sun Records (home of Elvis, Johnny Cash, and Roy Orbison) producer Sam Phillips had a tremendous business idea: “If I could get me a white boy with that black sound, I could make a million dollars” (qtd. in Ozersky). Although recent adoptions of the same philosophy have brought gimmicky acts like Vanilla Ice, House of Pain, and Kid Rock to the hip-hop industry, they have also produced lucrative results. In the last two decades, the majority of hip-hop labels and companies have been owned and operated by white businessmen, and this has not necessarily had negative repercussions on the hip-hop community. As Nelson George, renowned African-American cultural author explains:
“On the owner front, I’d argue that without white entrepreneurial involvement hip-hop culture wouldn’t have survived its first half decade on vinyl. It is indisputable that black-owned independents like Sugar Hill, Enjoy, and Winley cultivated and supported hip-hop from 1979 to 1981. But it was white small-businesspeople who nurtured it next” (George, 57).
From a commercial standpoint, white involvement in black culture has been entirely fruitful, although the concept of popularizing a tradition that is inherently exclusive and thus fragile to overexposure may deaden the successes gained by hip-hop culture’s ascension into the mainstream. Ultimately, the role white involvement played in the progression of black culture into the status quo is delicately balanced between promotion and exploitation.
The assimilation of whites into black culture is a social phenomenon that has occurred throughout the majority of the 20th century and into the 21st. Young white people have always gravitated towards black culture. Whether this attraction is caused by a genuine appreciation of the lifestyle, misplaced infatuation, or even an attempt to appropriate the culture due to subconscious racism, there will continue to be complicated social dynamics surrounding this issue. Hip-hop has become imbedded in the social fabric of America, and is constantly influencing the actions of American youth. As hip-hop pioneer and Def Jam Records founder Russell Simmons observed, “I see hip-hop culture as the new American mainstream. We don’t change for you; you adapt to us” (qtd. in Williams).
Works Cited
1. Bernard-Donals, Michael. “Jazz, Rock ‘n’ Roll, Rap and Politics.” Journal of Popular
Culture 28 (1994): 127-138. Academic Search Premier. EBSCO. Gelman Library. 5 May 2006.
2. George, Nelson. Hip hop America. New York: Viking, 1998.
3. Kitwana, Bakari. Why White Kids Love Hip-Hop. New York: Basic Civitas Books,
2005.
4. Ozersky, Josh. “The White Negro Revisited.” Tikkun 15.5 (2000): 61-63. Academic
Search Premier. EBSCO. Gelman Library. 2 April 2006.
5. Rose, Tricia. Black Noise. Hanover, NH: Wesleyan University Press, 1994.
6. Scott, Cathy. “Rap goes from urban streets to Main Street.” Christian Science Monitor
91.63 (1999): 1-3. Academic Search Premier. EBSCO. Gelman Library. 2 April 2006.
7. Watkins, S. Craig. Hip hop matters: politics, pop culture, and the struggle for the soul
of a movement. Boston: Beacon Press, 2005.
8. Williams, Armstrong. “Hip hop.” New York Amsterdam News 97 (2006): 13-15.
Academic Search Premier. EBSCO. Gelman Library. 5 May 2006.
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