Hip-hop pedagogy as anti-racist pedagogy, part III

In part I and part II of this series, I talked about the importance of actually talking about race in the classroom. I also discussed the importance of counter-storytelling and provided some examples of how it can be used in the classroom. Both are anti-racist content. In this post, we'll see what an anti-racist pedagogy--a way of teaching that content--might look like.

I want to take a moment to acknowledge one aspect of teaching hip-hop classes--particularly those that aim to do anti-racist work--that often goes unremarked, and that is considering the demographics of the student body. Conversations about race, equity, and social justice tend to go one way at a predominantly white institution (PWI; that is, a school where the majority of the students are white), and they tend to go very differently at Minority-Serving Institutions (MSI; a school where the majority of students are not white). I'll have much more to say about this down the road, but at this stage of my exposition, it's important to note that not only must our pedagogy take this audience (i.e., the student body) into consideration, but our research--and the ways in which we read the research of others--must take it into account as well.

PWIs exist in large part because their chief role has been to uphold the value of whiteness. Cheryl Harris's work on whiteness as property provides a convenient lens through which to explore this. Harris argues that whiteness is more than a racial category; it is inextricably bound up with ideas about property. Not only has it determined who can own property (as in the case of, say, racial restrictive covenants), but it has become a property all its own: those who possess the property of whiteness are entitled to do things that those who do not possess the property cannot. And, conveniently, those who possess the property of whiteness also get to determine who else does or does not possess the property, and they get to make the rules that govern those who do not possess the property of whiteness.

Whiteness is thus defined by exclusion, and the more exclusive it is, the higher its value. Excluding people requires erecting barriers or borders and implementing methods for enforcing them. Some of these borders and barriers are apparent: we have immigration laws and trespassing laws, for instance. Others are less apparent (more on this momentarily). These barriers regularly shift: in the early 20th century, Irish and Italian immigrants were not considered white, but at some point, they were assimilated into whiteness. Such advances typically only occur when those in power realize that it is in their best interest to include other groups. Today, white supremacy encompasses not only those who are phenotypically white, but anyone whose actions uphold the values of whiteness.

In an article that laid the groundwork for the field of Critical Race Theory, Derrick Bell proposes the theory of interest convergence, which suggests that advances in civil rights only take place when the interests of marginalized communities align with the interests of white America. The inclusion of people of color into the white supremacist capitalist patriarchy (to borrow bell hooks’ formulation) allows those in power to dodge accusations of racism. Robin James proposes the acronym MrWASP--Multi-racial White Supremacist Patriarchy--to represent this new formulation. She notes the “Mr.” highlights the patriarchy, and “WASP” echoes its earlier use when it stood for “White Anglo-Saxon Protestant.” Arguably, the fact that hip-hop studies has managed to enter the academy is an example of Bell’s interest convergence hypothesis, or perhaps MrWASP, in action. Its inclusion naturally raises the question, “If hip hop is being taught in universities, who is benefiting from its inclusion and how?”

In their important article “Decolonization is not a Metaphor,” Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang claim that the purpose of a liberal arts education is to convince the settler that they are indigenous, that their culture and history is the only culture and history. This is a primary way that the educational system upholds the value of whiteness. Consider how many of our courses and degree programs are named: music theory, music history, music composition, music performance. These labels have long implied that the music we analyze, contextualize, compose, and play is most likely Western art music. Furthermore, Western art music is largely composed by white men: the programs and courses are in some sense doubly exclusive. Diversifying the canon of Western art music is certainly important work, but we need to consider the ways in which our curricula exclude music that does not conform to the ideals of Western art music (consider the work that the term “non-Western music” does in this regard). The disciplines and their pedagogies have roots that are patriarchal, capitalist, imperialist, and racist. Because whiteness has operated silently in the background for so long it is important to name it whenever possible: a popular meme suggests that white supremacy isn’t the shark, it’s the water.

Hip-hop pedagogy as anti-racist pedagogy, part IV

Hip-hop Pedagogy as Anti-Racist Pedagogy, part II