Educational Media Reviews Online

“…We fear that our culture becomes mimicked, mocked, exploited with no respect to what its foundation is really from.” -- M1, Dead Prez

Robert Clift’s (Stealing Home: The Case of Cuban Baseball) thought-provoking and balanced feature-length documentary tackles the controversial issue of race and identify in Hip-Hop culture. The film explores, among other themes, examples of cultural admiration, exploitation, white authenticity, and what Hip-Hop means to legions of white performers and fans who embrace the culture as their own.

Originating from the tough streets of the “Boogie-Down” Bronx, Hip-Hop is more than just music. It’s a culture that has its own art, dress, dance, language, MCs, DJs, and rappers. Words like break-beats, break-dancing, B-Boy/ B-Girl (break-boy or girl), and graffiti, are commonly used terms within the Hip-Hop culture. It is a business that grosses more than a billion dollars a year, and attracts legions of suburban white youth. Clive Campbell, aka DJ Kool Herc, is credited as being the Father of Hip-Hop. It is reported that he got his start playing “hard funk records typified by James Brown [by isolating, and extending break-beats] as an alternative both to the violent gang culture of the Bronx and to the nascent popularity of disco in the 1970s.” (Wikipedia). The genesis of the Hip-Hop movement was to provide a temporary form of entertainment, vis-à-vis block parties, to release the hardship and stress felt by so many Jamaican immigrants. DJ Herc notes that Hip-Hop is peace, love, colorless. Most followers of today’s Hip-Hop also credit legendary pioneers such as DJs Afrika Bambaataa (Zulu Nation), who in a different interview describes Hip Hop music as “stripped down funk,” Caz, Jazzy Jay, and countless others who catapulted and inspired Hip Hop to become a global phenomenon.

Defining admiration for a person, place, or thing is a subjective enigma. The filmmaker questions what is it about the mask of blackness that is so attractive, and what is it about Hip-hop that is so attractive to the white rapper or fan? The film provides excellent examples to answer these questions. For instance, archival footage of Al Jolson in blackface enforces negative stereotypes of Blacks as “mammies, bucks, and coons” as mimicked in early 20th vaudeville and song writing. However, a white scholar notes that in this twisted façade of blackface, Jolson’s mimicry and exploitation is a reverse admiration of Blacks. It is suggested that Jolson, while in blackface, is able to become the black man and emote the conditions and psychological racial stereotypes of the day. It should be noted that not many Blacks in the film would agree with this scholar’s analysis and definition of admiration. However, in contrast to the emotionally heart-felt Jolson, John Leland posits that the admiration or attractiveness for most white males today is that Hip-Hop provides a license to be masculine and macho. It gives white rappers carte blanche to call a woman demeaning names, and to use derogatory language not otherwise considered acceptable behavior in mainstream society.

Another issue facing white rappers and fans today is that of authenticity. White Hip-Hop followers agree that they are oftentimes the subject of ridicule as wanting to be Black, or “wiggers.” For example, during a Hip-Hop battle at a fraternity house at Indiana University, one white rapper points out that he forgets the color of his skin when being racially insulted by his opponent. He states that it is not necessary for him to dress the part of a B-Boy to be accepted as authentic. Similarly, residents of a northern Indiana town might remember the news story about two blonde-haired, blue-eyed sisters who are suspended for dressing like B-girls. Their style of dress is considered disruptive to other students, despite the daily taunts they receive from racist students who insist on calling them “n*gger lovers” and carving the letters KKK into their desktop. One sister states that she is not trying to be Black; she just wants to be “cool.” In contrast, Hip-Hop followers cannot forget the marketing media blitz surrounding Vanilla Ice’s fabricated story of growing up in the “Hood.”

Some white performers and fans pay homage to the Hip-Hop culture, while others intentionally and unintentionally exploit it. For example, the distinguish look of a B-Boy or B-Girl might include wearing a Kangol hat for men (visualize Run DMC, or L.L. Cool J.), a thick bandana wrapped around the forehead for women (visualize The Brat), large gold chain, baggy/loose-fitting clothes, and unlaced sneakers. Comedian Paul Mooney suggests that some of today’s white rappers perform “a minstrel [show] in blackface without the makeup.” Comedic white rappers of Crack’d Owt (New York) and Too White Crew are two acts who perform in gratuitous B-Boy dress to “play the part of being of the Hip-Hop culture.” Their stage acts are meant to provide comic relief, and are presented in a way which can only be described as clownish. Members of Crack’d Owt believe it to be reverse discrimination for anyone to suggest that they are racists. The filmmaker asks a predominately all-white audience to critique a Crack’d Owt performance. Most view the act as humorous without being minstrel, while one young man thought them to be literally “cracked-out” on drugs. One might infer there is a hidden message behind the group’s name to infer that most Blacks are on crack. Similarly, an all-white High School dance squad in southern Indiana uses the Hip-Hop dress as “props” to mimic the culture rather than embrace it. They innocently believe they are not mocking the culture by their over-the-top appearance.

Music critic George Nelson points out this generation is not taught to value the history or culture, but rather “to like and consume, and not really hear.” He points out that it is uncomfortable for Blacks to see whites imitating a culture in which they are oblivious to its historical origins. Blacks do not want to see whites on stage drinking Ole English 40 straight from the bottle, wearing a huge gold chain, or clock à la Flavor Flav style. These subversive acts invoke painful memories of minstrel show mentality, and are easily interpreted as fostering negative stereotypes.

In contrast, most white performers and fans agree that Hip-Hop is not a matter of color or race, but rather a lifestyle which best fits their identity. They embrace the culture as their own with a clear understanding of the history, racial attitude, and stereotype associated with Hip-Hop. Groups like “Empire Isis” are easily offended when questioned about their authenticity and love for Hip-Hop. They do not wish to be isolated into a box because of the color of their skin. They love Hip-Hop because it is who they are, or is it as the filmmaker asserts, “a desire to try on somebody else’s life.”

The film includes commentary from a host of prominent Hip-Hop figures, educators, and performers. They include: DJ Kool Herc, Russell Simmons, Chuck D., M1 of Dead Prez, DJ Wise, Grandmaster Caz, Paul Mooney, Amiri Baraka, Maurice Berger, Joe Ciollino, Vanilla Ice, Aesop Rock, Empire Isis, Eyedea, Blazek, Ed Greenbaum, and John Leland.

Blacking Up is an excellent documentary incorporating archival footage, an amazing soundtrack, and quality cinematography. If you like to learn more about Hip-Hop culture, I recommend Scratch (2001) and The Freshest Kids: The History of the B-Boy (2001). I highly recommend this film for classes to supplement African American and American History, and music studies. I highly recommend this title for school, public, and academic libraries.