Dedication
This book is dedicated to Skateworks as they continue to inspire passion in young kids through skating.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to Andrew Langi for letting us follow him around and sharing his stories.
Preface
When we first started this project, I was so set on making a documentary about the loaded debate topic of science versus religion. Thankfully, I was dissuaded from that idea when I found out we had to work in partners for film, and my idea was simply too complex for anyone to want to tackle it with me. My current film partner, Rebecca Pristavok, asked me if I wanted to join her with interviewing a semi-pro skater. And that’s when it popped into my mind: I could take this opportunity to explore in depth hip-hop culture, a religion that has blossomed into a curse upon our generation. Not to mention, interviewing a skater meant getting some really cool action shots for our film documentary.
I was immediately infatuated with the whitewashing of hip-hop and dove right into books and extensive academic journals on the topic. But that’s when I ran into my first problem. I was so focused on hip-hop as a culture, I forgot that I was interviewing a skater for the documentary. How was I going to incorporate skateboarding into my project?
It turns out, all I needed to solve that problem was a little more research. Skateboarding and hip-hop turned out to be linked in a lot more ways than I thought, and the popularization of hip-hop brought skateboarding right along with it. Once I figured that out, the rest fell into place and organized itself.
One of the biggest problems Becca and I ran into while making our film was availability. There were a lot of weeks where one of us was sick or out of town, and a lot of times when our interviewee, Andrew Langi, couldn’t make it. This made meeting deadlines for interviews a challenge. However, we learned from our mistakes and started planning our interviews way ahead of time and asking for extensions before the due date, and eventually got all of them done.
Overall, this project has taught me how to push my limits. It taught me that just because a deadline is staring you in the face doesn’t mean you need to sacrifice quality to get the final product out. And this project has taught me that to get the final product out, you need to be able to pull inspiration out of your work, and you cannot just sit around waiting for it to come to you. Out of all the projects I have done in my life, this has by far been my favorite and the most rewarding.
I have been interested in culture for as long as I can remember, and this project gave me the opportunity to explore hip-hop without without restrictions. So I encourage you, as you read this book, to put yourself in the shoes of the people described – of the people that had their lives changed by hip-hop for the better.
Introduction
When we think back and try to differentiate the decades, a key difference that always stands out to us is style. From flappers in the 20s to A-lines in the 50s and leg warmers in the 80s, we can count on fashion to tell us the year. Now, in our modern decade, we have been introduced to a new style of fashion that defines America’s youth — something that adequately illustrates the ideals and priorities of teenagers today: Thrasher.
And Vans and Supreme and Brixton.
Although hip-hop started off as something rebellious and prided itself as staying away from “mainstream” culture, the growing popularity of hip-hop culture has integrated itself into our everyday lives. Now, you can’t turn on the radio without hearing rap music, drive through a city without seeing graffiti, or walk through a mall without seeing skating apparel.
What caused skating apparel to be the signature style of the hip-hop generation? Surely it must be because skateboarding, just like DJing and graffiti, was born out of hip-hop culture. However, skateboarding’s roots can be traced further back than hip-hop. While hip-hop originated in the Bronx in the 1970s, skateboarding’s lineage can be traced all the way back to the 50s, which means skating apparel existed long before its acclimation into hip-hop.
And what is hip-hop? From rasta to gangsta, hip-hop has gone through drastic changes from the time of its origin in the South Bronx to what we know in our modern society. The hip-hop we know is about the cool factor — the excess, the power, the girls. What it is today is no indicator of what it was originally meant to be. A safe haven created for the rejects of mainstream society, hip-hop was supposed to be about community. Born out of nothing, made into something.
Skaters were always the odd ones out, once made fun of for the rag-tag style that plagues teens today. The culture was born out of rebellion — a street style unique to itself that was wrongly assumed as a manifestation of hip-hop so much that over time, skating became just another factor to being “gangsta.” But skating planted its roots in a place of passion — the true desire to do something, which was frowned upon by others.
The whitewashing of hip-hop culture threatened the traditions and roots of skateboarding. The once isolated community became widespread as more and more people wanted to be a part of this outcast culture without passion or desire to defy the mainstream, but instead become a part of it.
The mainstream. The society that hip-hop was created to oppose is now rapidly engulfing it. Even this traditionally outcast culture succumbed to the allures of capitalism, allowing the ignorant rich and wealthy teens of our century to adopt the “ghetto” lifestyle without any clue or care to what it means. How much more whitewashing can this culture take before its roots shrivel up completely?
Chapter 1: Rasta to Gangsta
It was just another hot summer night in the South Bronx. Bright lights cut through the old warehouse but had left corners in the shadows. Breakdancers clear huge areas of the floor to show off their moves while everyone cheers, hearts thumping to the rhythm of the music created on the turntables of Grandmaster Flash. Suddenly, the lights are out. The music comes to a screeching halt. The cheers of excitement turned into screams of panic. It was a blackout in the South Bronx, and one that greatly affect the new widespread culture of hip-hop. “It was a hell of a night,” says Nelson George, a South Bronx native.
“It was festive on one level. On the other hand, there was a sense of total wildness. We
were fortunate because we lived next to this crazy family of boys that kept us safe
because nobody wanted to fuck with them… The blackout had a huge impact on
hip-hop… After the riot, there were suddenly a million crews with stolen turntables” (Lynskey).
In a community as poor as the South Bronx, turntables were not something that could easily be replaced. However, the bounce back from such an unfortunate disaster is the definition of hip-hop– sticking together no matter what and persevering even when you have nothing. But where did such a nurturing culture come from, and how did it fit in with an area overrun by gangs and corruption?
Hip-hop’s seeds were planted in the Rastafarian culture that was widespread in Jamaica during the mid 1900s. According to Jeff Chang, the author of Can’t Stop Won’t Stop: A History of the Hip-Hop Generation, “Rastafarianism was an indigenous fusion of messianism and millenarianism, anticolonialism and Black nationalism, and it gave the cause of ‘Black supremacy’ spiritual, political, and social dimensions” (24 Chang). During a time of extreme violence in Jamaica, the music spurred by the Rastafari culture is what kept black pride intact and helped stirred hope in the people that they would be able to make it through the rough times as a community.
This traditional culture was brought to the South Bronx in 1970s by Jamaican native Clive Campbell, more commonly known as DJ Kool Herc: the father of hip-hop. During this time, the South Bronx was considered an “urban catastrophe.” Due to severe poverty, many landlords would burn down their own buildings just to collect their insurance check and hope it came with enough money to get out of this city. By the end of the 70s, the city had lost over 40% of its population. A local health official even called it a “‘necropolis– a city of death’” (Lynskey). Needless to say, the situation in the South Bronx was considered pretty hopeless. Many natives of the surrounding boroughs pitied the natives and deemed their lives as nothing more than depressing and unfulfilling.
But while the economic situation had crumbled along with the buildings into a pile of rubble, the culture blossomed, creating a beautiful, nurturing social community. This society was also the birthplace of superstar DJ Grandmaster Flash. While remembering his adolescence, Flash recalled, “‘It was wonderful. It was like a village. Everybody there knew each other. One of our biggest pastimes was flying kites on the roof. Where the gangs lived, that’s where the rubble was. You didn’t go there. But for me,’ he grins, ‘it was a great place to live’” (Lynskey). When looking at the Bronx, outsiders aren’t able to see past the heaps of rubble and corruption and steered far away from this dilapidated borough. But to the inner city population, there was no place like home.
DJ Kool Herc created a family in the “ghettos” of the South Bronx. Although hip-hop was a primarily black and latino culture (due to the demographic of the South Bronx in the 70s) is was welcoming to anyone suffering from social injustices or rejected by the mainstream society. Change observed this aspect of the culture when he wrote, “…I think hip-hop has bridged the culture gap. It brings white kids together with black kids, brown kids with yellow kids. They all have something in common that they love. It gets past the stereotypes and people hating each other because of those stereotypes” (Chang 291). Hip-hop culture was invented to move away from the judgemental, patronizing aura of the mainstream by including everyone with shared life experiences and giving them a medium by which they were able to express their emotions. Children of hip-hop bond over similar feelings of social injustice and first hand violence, themes that clearly define the next stages of hip-hop after Rastafarianism: Gangsta.
After the development of hip-hop into a gangsta culture, people began to lose sight of the traditions and core values of this once all inclusive culture. DJ Kool Herc sums up the meaning of hip-hop culture when he says,
“To me, hip-hop says, ‘Come as you are.’ We are a family. It ain’t about security. it ain’t about the bling-bling. It ain’t about how much your gun can shoot. It ain’t about $200 sneakers. it is not about me being better than you or you being better than me. It’s about you and me, connecting one to one. That’s why it has universal appeal. It has given young people a way to understand their world, whether they are from the suburbs or the city or wherever” (Chang xi).
When the 70s in the South Bronx came to a close, the economic situation started to look up. The 80s brought along more enforced laws and quelled the roar that sparked hip-hop culture. “Without lax policing there is no hip-hop,” says Nelson George. “There are no parties in the park. There were no quality-of-life crimes in New York back then so the police didn’t give a damn. There was a lot of room to do whatever you wanted.” Now, after decades of regeneration, the South Bronx has been raised from the slums and is now again a livable place (Lynskey). But nothing can erase the fact that the new cityscape was planted upon layers of neglect– neglect that fostered the growth of the most influential culture of our time.
Hip-hop arose out of pain. It was born to give a voice of hope to an area that had none. It created a reason for them to keep going– an identity of their own when the mainstream society branded them as nothing. But hip-hop has evolved since the era of the South Bronx. Now, with its introduction into the lives of the modern teen, the cries against injustice have turned into chants for fame and wealth. The very idea of hip-hop has made a 180, and has now spiraled into something nearly unrecognizable.
Chapter 2: Surfin’ the Sidewalk
Hip-hop is often considered the birthplace of counterculture, which in many cases it was. However, a different kind of rebel lifestyle was already in full swing while hip-hop was still planting its roots: skateboarding.
Skateboarding first originated in 1950s California when a group of surfers were disappointed with the lack of “gnarly waves” and decided to try surfing the concrete instead. By the time the 60s rolled around, skateboarding was all the rage. The culture skyrocketed in popularity as skating competitions arose and the path was paved for skateboarding to become a real sport. However, the initial hype died almost instantaneously in the mid-60s, something that was thought to have been due to the danger of rickety old boards and clay wheels. Skateboarding picked up again in the 70s due to the invention of the urethane wheel which allowed smoother riding and reduced some of the risks (Skatemag). However, skateboarding was and remains to this day a dangerous sport. But it is that danger that embodies skating culture as a whole.
After the 70s, skateboarding only rose in popularity. It established its own unique culture
in the 80s and 90s during a time when skaters were outcasts – the street rats who wore “girl’s clothing.”
“Skating culture is like no other, I would say in that it is super nurturing,” says Jason Strubing manager of Skateworks, a small skating store in Los Altos.
“It’s super uncompetitive, and it’s just sorta like, I guess it sounds cliche to say a brotherhood of man, but it is really kind of a unifying thing, a unifying love I guess and that’s why you could travel just about anywhere in the world and go to a skatepark or see some other skaters, and just sorta be like ‘hey what’s up’” (Strubing).
According to an article by the Huffington Post, once you’re in, you are forever part of the growing, nurturing community. In fact, Laura Beth Nielsen, a journalist for the Post, wrote, “Skateboarders have a unique community; they teach, coach, learn, practice, and regulate their practice area silently but effectively.” Although the community is more exclusive than hip-hop, newcomers are encouraged and taught the unspoken rules of being a part of the skateboarding community. Despite the age, race, or socioeconomic background, everyone on the ramp in considered equal. This is reinforced by Nielsen when she writes,
“When newer skaters show up who don’t yet know the arrangement, they are gently guided, then chided about how to assess the park and determine whose turn is next. Better skaters coach weaker skaters saying things like, ‘your weight needs to be forward,’ ‘bend your knees more,’ or just, ‘try man.’ No one thinks twice if the more advanced skater is 8 years old and the skater getting the advice is 45.”
A challenge that many skateboarders run into is the law. Many cities ban skateboarding on the streets, causing skaters to get in trouble with authority. However, this is just another part of the appeal. It is just another part of the rebellious culture that builds bridges between two people, based solely on their appetite for danger (Nielsen).
The skating culture is nurturing to skateboarders – to people who pour their blood, sweat, and tears into the sport despite being hated on by the mainstream. According to Nielsen, “Skateboarders are dedicated; they show up to practice, rain, shine, or snow without a schedule.” Unlike hip-hop culture which welcomes everyone in with open arms, a certain level of dedication is needed to become a part of skating culture. Because in skateparks, there’s no room posers only passion. Over time, skateboarding has slowly been fused into hip-hop and mainstream media, causing a lot of wannabe teenage “gangsters” to flood skateparks, ripping off the “edgy” style, pretending they’re ethnic instead of guilty of cultural appropriation.
Skateworks, a chain of small skating stores, is dedicated to teaching young kids how to skate. At the Los Altos location, semi-pro skater Andrew Langi teaches kids and encourages them to always follow their passions.
“If I were to tell anybody, younger generation, how to follow their passion… first you gotta find your passion, you know? Find what you love and let it kill you pretty much” (Langi)
When skateboarding is taught at a young age, it isn’t because of the stereotypes associated with it. Young kids are neither aware nor care about the “cool factor” and all the other #sk8ter tags that come along with it. Andrew was someone who started skating from a young age during a time when skateboarding was unpopular. However, despite all the harsh words and general opposition towards the sport, Andrew stuck with it, because it is his one true passion.
“Skateboarding… it’s something I found and stumbled upon cause I thought it was cool and it looked fun and I never let that slip away from my grasp. Once I first started skateboarding, how much fun I had, I made sure that I held on to that fun and never let anything come in between. It’s the one thing that I really love to do and it’s one thing that I would never not do” (Langi).
During the time that Andrew grew up, skateboarding was a culture of passion. It was the idea of being someone society considered a reject because they would become anyone to keep doing the thing they love to do most. Skateworks is a place that fosters this wealth of passion– that teaches kids not only how to ride a skateboard but about another way to view life. However, just like hip-hop skateboarding became about the “cool factor” as passion is no longer the force that drives it.
Chapter 3: Cultural Fusion
Born and developed on the streets hip-hop and skateboarding have historically shared many parallels. Hip-hop originated as an outcast religion, something far from the mainstream, built from the ground up on nothing more than community and heart. Skateboarding became an escape for many teens in the 80s and 90s who, despite the criticism from their peers, continued to follow their passion with the sport they loved.
With similar attitudes and values, it only makes sense that these two cultures would have fused over time. “Skateboarding has crossed boundaries to make appearances in less traditional places,” says Jeff Ihaza, author of the article “Skateboarding, hip-hop foster artistic expression similarly.” “It makes sense though,” says Ihaza as he breaks down the history of the two cultures. “As skateboarders, we wore tight pants and listened to weird music. We snuck out of class using the same escape routes as the so-called gangsters and ‘future rappers.’ It was only a matter of time until the groups would cross paths on the road leading farthest from authority figures.”
The integration of skateboarding into hip-hop culture was inevitable. The two distinct cultures were born away from the mainstream, and eventually intersected. Rappers started picking up skateboarding for a means of transportation and as skaters started to listen to more and more rap music while skating. The similarly reckless cultures lended themselves to each other and created a community, away from the monotony of rules, structure, and a 9 to 5 job. Together, they created a community of rebellion, going against popular thought and specific views on how life was supposed to be, and turned life into something worth living (Ihaza).
“I think skaters come off as lazy just simply because we do what we want, when we want, wherever we want, how we want,” says Langi, addressing common conceptions of skateboarders as lazy. “And I think, to some people who work a 9 to 5 job, it probably comes off as jealousy. They see people doing what they want and I think that makes them really envious.” Similar conceptions are made about people in the hip-hop industry. On the outside, it looks like a ragtag group of slackers unable to make it in the real world banding together and trying to create something out of themselves. But what people don’t care to see is what’s going on in their hearts.
Hip-hop wasn’t something you chose — it was something you were born into. In the “ghettos” of the South Bronx, hip-hop was cultivated from situation and gave people an outlet, the same kind of escape Langi said skateboarding gives him. But while people mistaken that as an escape from the “real world,” it is an escape from the unfortunate life they were born into. And that is what truly connects skateboarding and hip-hop at the foundation. Langi opens up about growing up in less fortunate circumstances than many others.
“I was raised by my mom, my father was absent, he was an alcoholic… My mom raised me and my sister on sectionate housing, welfare, so we didn’t have a very comfortable life growing up, you know, we were eating cereal with water or orange juice because we didn’t have milk, or we didn’t have basic necessities to, you know, have a good breakfast. So, it was rough growing up, definitely skateboarding was a good outlet for me to escape from that kinda lifestyle because it’s not fun…”
Families in the South Bronx were living in similar situations during the rise of hip-hop. They bonded through coming from a place of nothing, already branded as outcasts from society, and working to turn their life into something meaningful. Hip-hop and skateboarding were used as a medium to speak out against the violence, the political issues, the social issues, and every obstacle mainstream society threw in their way, impeding their success. Skateboarding and hip-hop found each other away from the prying eyes of mainstream culture, and grew together into an all-powerful counterculture, capable of anything.
Chapter 4: Riches to Rags
Growing up on the streets of the South Bronx, fashion was the last thing on the natives’ minds as they were burdened with the daily struggle of making ends meet. However, it was here that hip-hop formed, without a clear style but with a loud message. So why is fashion such an important part of hip-hop culture today?
After the increase in security and police in the South Bronx during the 80s, the development of the anti-authority culture in the Bronx came to a halt. But that was not before its influence had been spread throughout New York (Lynskey). The music even made it as far as LA where it started to spread as they created their new styles of gangsta rap. The more hip-hop spread across the nation the more people wanted to be a part of it. Which should be fine, right, since hip-hop is supposed to be welcoming to everybody?
Let’s start off with style. Before the commercialization of hip-hop, the style was traditionally just whatever people could afford living in the “ghettos” of the South Bronx. However, once hip-hop hit the big screen, it became all about the “bling-bling.” Thick, gold chains hung off the necks of hip-hop artists complementing their newest pair of $200 sneakers. People that were a part of this “culture” wore tracksuits, bomber jackets, large glasses, bucket hats, and shell–toe sneakers. The most popular brands that people would shop at were Adidas and Kangol. Everything became about flexing wealth and prosperity. If you take a look at the slightly older generation of rappers now (late 30s, 40s) this style is often seen. However, take a look at the 18 year olds we have on our stage today and things are completely different.
Unlike hip-hop, skating fashion was generated for a reason. The traditional wear was and still is skinny jeans and bro-tanks. The skinny jeans were worn so that skaters didn’t get cuts and bruises on their legs, and baggy pants wouldn’t exactly be the most ideal for a sport like skateboarding. However, skating in the summer resulted in a lot of skaters overheating due to these long pants, and so in order to cancel it out they wore tank-tops. It was this style in the 80s and 90s that the mainstream culture laughed upon (Castro).
“I got made fun of a lot,” says Andrew as he reflected on how he was made fun of as a skateboarder in the 90s. “Like ‘oh you’re wearing skinny jeans those are for girls,’ you know, ‘oh cool shoes skater boy,’ like, you know, in a joking way…” (Langi). Andrew draws from his personal experiences with skateboarding style and brings to light how this style only added to the unique outcast society of skateboarding. However, this style didn’t remain unpopular for long.
When hip-hop became the mainstream, it wasn’t long before skateboarding went right along with it. The first step was the style. Teenagers everywhere started ripping off skateboarding style without any clue as to why or how these clothing combinations came to be. All they knew was that ripped skinny jeans and bro-tanks were the new gold chains and bomber jackets. Non-skateboarders now flex marked up street clothing, causing the heart of skateboarding culture to slowly melt away into the shadows. This is an outrage to many skaters who have stuck with this sport even when it caused them to be ridiculed. Andrew speaks his opinions of the growing popularity of skating style when he says, “…back when I first started, it wasn’t something that everybody wanted to wear, you know, we actually got made fun of a lot… everybody wears skateboard stuff now, it’s become so popular, and my personal opinion is I don’t want you guys to wear it” (Langi).
Style is only one of the ways hip-hop and skating culture lost its traditional values along with its integration into popular culture. Not only have these cultures been stripped of its roots, but the outcasts societies have left teens desensitized and prone to reckless behavior due to the ideals ingrained in these cultures.
Chapter 5: Whitewashing
A culture as accepting and rebellious as hip-hop was never meant to be confined to the “ghettos” of big cities. Eventually, it reached a diverse audience, many from different backgrounds than those for which hip-hop was created. However, once it branched out from ethnic to popular culture, the loose boundaries that hip-hop once prided itself on were taken advantage of as the once tight-knit community was stretched in a way it became almost unrecognizable.
Hip-hop started spreading in the South Bronx in the 1970s due to the popularization of block parties in primarily black neighborhoods. People from all over New York City would come for the DJs, break dancers, and rappers, a style of music and partying that had never been seen before. And when the Bronx went on lockdown in the 80s these block parties continued, carrying the soul of the black communities with it. So it wasn’t long before rap artists like Grandmaster Flash got signed by labels, yearning to commercialize the spirit of the Bronx. As soon as poor, “ghetto” kids like Flash got signed, it gave hope to the impoverished people of the South Bronx that money could be made along with the appropriation of the culture that once took them in (BMXE).
Hip-hop was such an innate culture to the South Bronx that once it spread, people who were well off living in rich suburban areas didn’t understand the roots of the culture. All they cared about was the beat of the music, the lyrics to which had no significant meaning. Because the culture was created as a form of expression to people growing up in those conditions – for people who suffered the brunt of gang violence, the rejection from mainstream society. Hip-hop is accepting of everyone, but you can’t just be anyone to understand it. To anyone not living in similar circumstances, they were nothing more than words set to a catchy rhythm.
Because of this, it wasn’t long before lyrics lost meaning completely. Rap artists would cater their tracks to the public, writing what they wanted to hear so that they could make the most money. The invention of autotune has devalued the “realness” and honesty of rap, making it something fake for monetary gain. Even people from “ghettos” like the South Bronx thought of the commercialization of hip-hop as a way to make a fortune and escape the dreary realities of living in poverty. Even though hip-hop has suffered from cultural appropriation, it’s still spreading hope.
Today, the definition of hip-hop has become unclear. The path of consumerism it has taken from its days of struggle in “the hood” to its popularity amongst rich, white teens who think it’s cool to act “ghetto” has rendered it nothing more than a shadow of itself. Therefore, many people believe it’s important to make a distinction between the two. The differentiation between old and new hip-hop is argued in many online forums, one of them being the online community on HipHopDX.
“Hip hop is for a culture that is unique to the 80s through mid 90s. Rap music is for a culture that is unique from 2000 through present time… Hip hop focused more on creativity, lyricism, positivity, consciousness, and was definitely an art. Rap music is driven by song hooks with WAY less emphasis on lyrical prowess, little positivity, and minimum, creativity… People who grew up on hip hop mostly relate to the hip hop culture because that stuff was… well relatable to everyday life. People who grew up in the rap era love the hooks and these silly rap dances because that is all they can mostly decipher from the song” (The Ice Cold Phenom).
This was the opinion of The Ice Cold Phenom old vs. modern hip-hop as he wrote on the forum. Similarly, someone with the username AR wrote,
“The audience changed. Hip hop is now mostly made up of kids who grew up in the rich suburbs and go to high class schools during their teen years. Obviously they’re not gonna relate to the music that artistically captures the life of inner city everyday people… Today’s rap is all about partying, selling drugs, and fantasizing about a celebrity life that you’re never gonna have” (AR).
While these are just the opinions of two people arguing the difference of old and modern hip-hop on a forum, the key points they made are trends observable with most teens. Hip-hop was appealing because it was different. Because it was rebellious. Because it was designed as an alternate path when the mainstream society wouldn’t accept you. But it is also defined by circumstance. By the hardships that people in the “ghettos” face, that the rich, white “gangstas” of our time cannot even imagine. Instead, they use hip-hop as a way to look cool. As a way to flip off the rest of the world and avoid responsibilities, when in reality it was created as a ray of hope. Therefore, modern day “hip-hop” cannot be considered the same culture it once was in the South Bronx. Because what happened to the breakdancing, the graffiti, the “come as you are” attitude? All that was left behind on the streets as hip-hop devolved into rap, the mantra of the modern teen that stresses binge drinking and excessive spending.
So where does skateboarding fit in all this? The whitewashing of hip-hop took the exclusive sport down right along with it. Skateboarding was grouped into hip-hop and to the public eye, the two cultures were one and the same. Wannabe rappers started skating, sagging marked up skating apparel to display “Supreme” titled across their ass. The once exclusive culture became overrun with fakes who skated not for the love of the sport but for the need to be popular. Skateboarding transformed from a sport that used to be made fun of to something everyone wants to be a part of. And not enough credit goes to the people like Andrew, who stuck by their sport when it was considered stupid, not because of fame, not because it made them “cool”, but because it was their passion.
Whitewashing has commercialized street terms and popularized sayings like “in the hood,” which is used as a reference to impoverished, majority black neighborhoods of urban areas. “Ghetto” is another word that has become commercialized and stripped of all cultural meaning. Throughout history, “ghettos” were used to mark urban neighborhoods whose demographics consisted of mainly a minority ethnic group. Now, it’s used as an adjective to describe anything that might come across as “sketchy”, poor, or decrepit. “Sketchy” is another such term now used to describe places or objects that come across as dangerous, poor, or just all in all, something different than what we know. Something is “sketchy” because we aren’t sure what it is, and our ignorance deems these things suspicious.
Chapter 6: Desensitization
The transition from old hip-hop to rap was due to the change in audience to the modern day teen. But why should people care? Because hip-hop has an alarming effect on the next generation: the desensitization to violence.
Violence became intertwined with hip-hop because it was what people faced in their everyday lives in the 19070s South Bronx. They rapped about it because it was their way of speaking out against the injustice that they faced – that they were getting shot at and killed without the rest of society caring. But that message got lost along the way as the reasons behind hip-hop’s innate violence became murky. Now, it is something that can be seen in all rap songs. Lyrics like, “So now they both dead, and you slash your own throat / So now it’s a double homicide and suicide with no note,” from Eminem’s “Kim,” and “I used to live her, too bad I had to put a slug through her/Dumped her body in the trash like I never knew her,” from Esham’s
“Ex Girlfriend.” Such violent lyrics have been set as the background music for life in the modern generation (XXL). With death threats and the abundance of domestic abuse, violence has become something that teens have accepted as an innate part of society. But how can we know that just listening to violent lyrics can develop a perverse view of our world in teens? A study done on the effects of violent movies on teens helps to shed light on that subject:
“Desensitization to violence has been primarily studied in lab-based experimental studies that exposed college students to violent movies and video games. For instance, viewing of violent movies led to increased depressive and anxiety symptoms that diminished with repeated exposure as well as less empathy and sympathy for the depicted victims. Behavioral measures of desensitization also showed slower helping responses in children, college students, and adults after exposure to violent videos or video games” (Mrung, et al.).
This study shows that violence in media has serious effects on the ability of teens to empathize with each other because they are immersed in a world where empathy takes second to brutality. Hip-hop is just another one of these mediums that makes violence just another part of the “cool factor,” glorifying domestic abuse and murder.
In a society where our fear is being overrun by excessive gun violence, hearing kids joke about shooting up schools and fake planning mass murders gets to be extremely concerning. For the most part, we laugh those nerves away and keep telling ourselves they’re just jokes, it’s nothing real. But the fact that we think it’s okay to joke about such horrific attacks proves the desensitization we have towards brutality. At the end of the day, jokes are just one dimension away from reality.
As hip-hop evolves, it becomes more and more violent. And the more teenagers are exposed to it, the more desensitized we get. The more desensitized we get, the closer we come to blurring the lines between jokes and reality. Away from its hearth, hip-hop breeds a society of people with a defiantly careless attitude who forget the emotionally damaging aspects of violence and think that because it’s something omnipresent in media, it is something that is okay.
It is because of this desensitization that adults are wary about their children buying into hip-hop culture. With the violence, drugs, and recklessness, it’s a reasonable stance for parents to take. But hip-hop is everywhere. Without us even realizing it, the ideals are ingrained in our society. It’s the idea people are too uptight if they care too much about school or a structural system. That the only way to seem cool is to not care. But where do indifference and apathy lead teens?
Conclusion
Hip-hop and skateboarding were the countercultures of the late 20th century. But all countercultures eventually disappear or become the mainstream. In the case of hip-hop, its integration into the mainstream culture not only diluted the culture but also took the exclusive skateboarding culture along with it. These two cultures have become nothing more than a manifestation of “cool” in the teenage mind, as its ideals warp and twist into something more appealing to our youth.
Kids in the rich parts of town flex Armani jackets, Gucci belts, and Yeezy shoes, casually dropping f–, s–, and n–bombs while conversing with their bros. Due to this obvious lack of understanding of the roots of hip-hop culture, many parents and adults blame hip-hop for “desensitizing teenagers to the effects of guns, drugs, and gangs,” something that can be observed in the general high school culture today. Meanwhile, kids in “the hood” are more true to the origins of the culture and write raps about “thug life” and their lyrics revolve around death and violence. Cornel West, a professor of Religions and Afro-American studies, writes, “For many poor inner-city youth, the gun, which has has a central role in the lyrics of many gangsta rappers, represents a way to empower oneself and gain respect within continuing cycles of racial and economic prejudice.” While there are still people who “keep it real” with their lyrics, the industry has become all about what sells rather than what’s right. DJ Kool Herc says it best: “not enough people are using hip-hop as a way to deal with serious issues, as a way to try to change things before tragedy strikes” (Chang xi).
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