In hip-hop’s gross materialism and misogyny, it is women who keep the industry in business. Women are the inspiration for some of the most popular and profane songs. Every song is written for women to dance to, and the lyrics either instruct on how to catch a woman or brag about the bling that attracts a woman.
A part of the learned mainstream American culture is sexism and misogyny. Hip-hop culture is frequently condemned for its misogynistic exploitation of women, but this misogyny has many female fans. Looking at 106 and Park on BET or looking at MTV each day, I don’t see men screaming for the songs by the latest finger-snapping rapper; instead, I see hoards of little girls.
In clubs each week when the DJ throws on the latest “bitch shake your ass” song, it isn’t men running to the dance floor waiting for the women to follow; instead, it is women, of all races and ages, dancing to the tracks. Last year, women at Spellman College united to boycott Nelly for his depiction of women in rap videos. The question I had then was: Where is the Spellman boycott and picketing of all the strip clubs (that inspired the Nelly video) in Atlanta, from Buckhead to College Park? Just as I criticize hip-hop, I feel a direct responsibility to critique my fellow men and to point to our duty to understand how representations of women can be damaging. Women need to be even more diligent in speaking up about the lady next to them.
Exploitation of women in hip-hop has become an accepted part of the culture for almost everyone involved. Women who go to clubs can almost predict that at some point they will be touched inappropriately when they are on the dance floor. Some women feel continually terrorized by predators who grab their butts or squeeze their arms in a pub or club. Other women simply shrug it off. It’s those — women who are indifferent to the blatant disrespect and objectification — whose inaction can be just as damaging to hip-hop as the continued celebration of the culture by males. Just as men should challenge their friends who cross the line, women should challenge their female friends when they start dancing to “back that ass up” or when they turn a blind eye to being spoken to or treated disrespectfully.
Black and Latino youth started hip-hop in New York City as an escape and a way to express themselves artistically. It now has been co-opted into commercials set to music, with booty-shaking, bling-blinging and a gun here or there. As fake as hip-hop has become, it remains incredibly powerful because it defines the way younger and older people alike interact with one another. Hip-hop culture is in many ways American culture. Though we all don’t listen to it, we all feel its effects every day in advertisements, movie soundtracks and even the exercise studio.
Women, we need you to save us from what hip-hop has become. Because of the music’s potential to change lives and communities and to create futures for many people, hip-hop’s misogyny is something women can’t wait for men to fix. When women take a stand and expect more than the latest “snap yo fingas” jam, the consciousness of hip-hop can be returned. You can critique your brothers, your sons and the men in your life when they step across the line of integrity and respect.
Decker Ngongang, a native of Charlotte, is a financial professional and committed citizen.
This article appears in May 31 – Jun 6, 2006.
