In a recent interview with Hip-Hop DX, a hoodie-clad Nas exhibited an understandable amount of despair at the case of African American youth Trayvon Martin, the shot dead by George Zimmerman while walking home from the shops in Florida in February.
The US hip hop artist said: āYou never want to hear that kind of news. When it happens, you remember how many Trayvon incidents happen everyday all over the world...
āIt doesnāt seem like the race problem will ever get solved. I like to be optimistic, but it doesnāt seem like itāll ever get solved.ā
And yet, later in the interview, speaking of the same 17-year-old high school football player gunned down for walking while Black, some of that optimism seemed to peek through.
āMaybe he thought in football heād have a legacy,ā said the widely respected rapper. āBut now his legacy can become something that helps change things, hopefully.ā
With that, Nas exhibited the ongoing battle between pain and promise that hip-hop, at its best, has long tapped. The killing of Martin, and the wave of outrage itās provoked, has once again put this struggle at centre stage.
This is far from the first time that the hip-hop community has been moved to speak out on the flagrant racism of the US criminal injustice system. Incidents like Martinās are so shamefully frequent that Chuck Dās famous quip, ārap is CNN for Black peopleā, seems cliche by now.
Something about this feels different, however.
Numbers of protest attendees alone donāt do justice, but they do give you an idea. Thousands in New York, 5000 in Minneapolis, 1500 in Rochester, about 2000 at three different actions in as many days in Chicago, 1000 in Denver, and countless smaller actions from Maine to San Diego.
All on top of high school walkouts across the state of Florida, and the thousands who have descended upon Sanford in several marches.
Comparisons to the 1955 murder of Emmett Till, which some consider an opening shot in the civil rights movement, have abounded. Like Tillās death, Martinās murder has pulled the lid off a long-simmering anger at the persistent racist bile that continues to run through US society.
And as before, itās opened the way for so many who might otherwise remain silent to stand and be counted ā even MCās not normally considered āpolitical.ā
Among those is Young Jeezy from USDA: āHe looks like an innocent kid. I understand the situation as far as dude wanting to be [on] neighborhood watch, but everybody thatās black and young aināt āup to no good.āā
Rapper The Game has similarly been moved to dismay in a recent interview: āFor some reason, people donāt think that they need any excuse to kill us, beat us, hit us, run us over, disrespect us or anything like that.ā
As always, however, the most moving responses have come from artists more in touch with hip-hopās grassroots.
Mos Def has teamed up with hip hop duo dead prez to record a tribute track for Martin. Immortal Technique has pointed out that vigilante violence is a regular occurrence on the US-Mexico border.
RodStarz of radical Bronx duo Rebel Diaz, appearing on Davey Dās radio show, was quick to draw comparisons to Ramarley Graham, another Black teen gunned down by the New York police a few weeks before Martinās killing.
One of the countless local artists to write tracks dedicated to Martin is Washington DCās Slimm Goines. Though this isnāt the first political song heās written, it seems that this murder has hit Slimm, like so many others, in a very deep place.
When I ask him why he wrote āMy Hoodie Weighs a Ton,ā he responds ānot sure. I just needed to say something. I havenāt written anything overtly political in a while. I just felt I had to.ā
Slimm points out that the hip-hop response to cases like Martinās is, of course, nothing new: "Hip-hop has always been quick to take up cases like this. Be it Yusef Hawkins in Bensonhurst back in ā89, the beating of Rodney King, Amadou Diallo, Abner Louima, Sean Bell, the hip-hop world has always been at or near the forefront in speaking out against the senseless violence against young black men that seems to be excused in this society.
āMost hip-hop folks, being young and non-white, have intimate experience with being racially profiled, harassed, and in some cases, assaulted for being in the āwrong place at the wrong time'."
The sense that weāve been here before poignantly runs through most of the tracks dedicated to Martin.
Mistah FAB, the Bay Area MC who first popped up on many fansā radars for his track dedicated to Oscar Grant, released his song āGod Donāt Love Meā on March 21.
Itās a simple, bare-bones track connecting the dots between Trayvonās death and African Americaās daily degradation at the hands of the criminal injustice system:
āThe whole world wanna talk about Kony
But aināt nobody speaking on the little homie
So many Trayvons over the years
Left so many Black minds puzzled, in tears
We kill them weāre in a cell doing life
They kill us they post some bail ācuz theyāre whiteā
Pittburgh rapper Jasiri X takes a different direction. The acclaimed activist MC, who, over the years, has responded in this same manner to the cases of the Jena Six, Troy Davis and others like them, does his best to put himself in Trayvonās shoes:
"Trayvon never gave his cousin [sic] the Skittles
Mr. All-Star Game didnāt see another dribble
And George Zimmerman wasnāt even arrested
The message is white life is only protected in America!"
Indeed. We most certainly have been here before. Far too many times. But it seems every time that the issue of race is brought up in the US, itās brushed aside in favor of rhetoric of the āpost-racial societyā.
What has made hip-hop in particular both so durable and controversial over the past 30 years, however, is that itās been one of the few bastions in popular culture where post-racialism is called out as a sham.
Itās been one of the few art forms that has dared to speak up and say that the civil rights movement of yesteryear left a lot of unfinished business in its wake.
Perhaps that might be changing. It may be painful to acknowledge that itās taken the death of yet another young Black man to finally provoke a modern movement for Black liberation.
Thereās no doubt, however, that such a movement is needed. The increased attention and mobilisation around cases similar to that of Martin in the past few weeks ā Ramarley Graham, Rekia Boyd ā may signify that the time has at long last arrived.
āThe world is changing pretty fast,ā says Slimm. āFrom the Arab Spring to the Occupy movement, ordinary people are standing up. Weāre less willing to accept the excuses that the people in power try to offer in situations like this.
āThat nonsense about āwaiting until all the facts are inā is no longer good enough for us. The facts on the surface were enough for most folks to say, āYouāve gone too far this time.ā
āAnd, you know what? As the facts come in, we continue to be proven correct.ā
Thatās what it all comes down to. The countless thousands now marching for Trayvon, Ramarley and Rekia, who have hit the pavement for Sean, Oscar and Troy, the MCs who have dared to speak out from the street corners to the recording studios, were correct to do so.
Theyāve known what the disdainful shills for Zimmerman and his ilk have never quite grasped: that hungry people donāt stay hungry for long.
[First published at . Alexander Billet maintains the website.]