Black Los Angeles

THE BRIDGE:
The Dis Factor

by Darryl James

Question posed to Queen Latifah: "What would the world be like without men?" Her answer: "A bunch of fat, happy women, and no crime."

They say it's in the music I love.

I suppose it¹s easy to find if you merely look at the lyrics of some of the art form¹s best and brightest artists.

We should be evolving, they say. After all, Queen Latifah admonished men for calling any woman a bitch or a Œho years ago.

But still, the lyrics blare through speakers all across the land, giving too many women the impression that rap music still sees them as bitches and hoes.

As a rap music advocate, it hurts, but sadly, the accusations are largely true. The problem is that too many women think that the music is representative of all Black men in reality.

They have been exposed to the lyrics of artists from NWA to Snoop and from Too Short to Ludacris, who rhyme quite nicely over bangin¹ beats, but don¹t have very many good things to say about women.

Mos Def and Common can¹t rhyme to the rescue fast enough to counteract all of the negative content being directed at young women.

Women are experiencing more at an earlier age, and with the help of modern media, particularly the music, they are becoming jaded earlier.

It doesn¹t help that those images in the media‹of gold-digging, sexually detached women portrayed as "independent"--have created a warped concept of relationships that causes a great deal of confusion and contradiction.

But it¹s not just the male rappers.

Joining Destiny¹s Child are many other R&B acts, such as TLC, who have released music with negative images of men‹"Scrubs," "Independent Women," and "Bills, Bills, Bills," being among the most popular, while Beyonce¹s "Me. Myself, and I," promotes hopelessness.

Female rappers like Trina, Khia or Lil¹ Kim rhyme about obtaining cash and gifts for sexual favors and tricking men the way they have seen men trick women.
It hurts me deeply because I know too many females who try to live that lie out in real life, believing it makes them free and independent.

It hurts also that too many brothers fail to show their softer side to the sisters who try to love them, and in the pain and anguish bestowed upon us by a world where everyone seems to hate us (including ourselves), we simply shove that pain onto the closest ones to us--the women who love us.

I could talk about the legacy of pain and self-devaluation passed on to us by centuries of psychological abuse, or the deterioration of the Black community fabric, or the lack of mentoring or poor parenting skills.

But there¹s no justification.
And yet, there¹s another side.

I use an equivocation of the Black experience in America. I find it hard to solely attack "the white man" for all of our ills, when we have too many Black faces demeaning our images willingly for pay.

The same is true for women. They should find conflict in solely attacking men for their negative encounters, when there are too many sisters demeaning their images willingly for pay.

I¹ll take the front of the line when sisters protest against video hoes, and I¹ll teach the first class at the charm school we create for the young teenage princesses who think that just because the body is young and nubile, it must be pushed up, pressed out and packaged to be shown to the world.

It hurts me when I hear sisters talk about how there aren¹t any good men out there. Some of them are choosing bad men, because the music has made "thugs" popular. It has confused both sides.

As Black consumers, we embraced the negativity with open arms, but there¹s a sad reality that we tend to overlook when it comes to rap music. The music belonged to us and was made by us for us until the turn of the decade of the 1990¹s, when more young white teens began to buy it.

Those young white teens don¹t care if the music disrespects Black women, or women in general. They only care if it¹s loud, perceived as cool amongst their new Black friends, and repulsive to their parents.

The brothers who make the negative music largely have no real concern for anything except making large amounts of cash, displaying the intrinsic attributes of a sellout. They purposely pander to the sensationalist appetites of the music industry.

However, as much as I detest the negative content in the music I love, I know that the rappers have a right to make it.

The same way I cringe when I hear young African Americans call each other "nigger," is the same way I cringe when I hear sisters call each other "bitch."
I¹d like to see more parents, big brothers and sisters dig in and work with little boys to teach them how to honor and respect themselves and our sisters. I¹d like to see the same parents, aunts, uncles dig in and work with little girls to teach them the same.

Colored girls who believe that the rainbow has long been enough, and have learned to honor and respect themselves would find encouragement in witnessing Common rhyme about how he used to love Hip Hop, because he found it difficult once the fake-gangsta emcees took over. They would find love in Hip Hop spirituals like "Retrospect for Life," in which Common lets sisters know that brothers suffer too, when an unborn child is sacrificed for the "freedom" of the unmarried parents. They would find it in the raw emotions he gives up in songs like "The Light."

They would look at the mission Will Smith is on to find one woman and commit to her. He loved his ex-wife and married her at a young age, moving beyond that relationship to another commitment to his new wife, Jada Pinkett, and the offspring they are creating.

And even if these shining examples were not enough in a world seemingly filled with hatred for brown girls, they could realize that the brothers who rhyme about bitches and hoes simply are not speaking about them anyway, and feel sorry for the sisters who really are depicted in the songs, as well as the boys who know no better.
This is the best answer I can come with.

Is it the right answer?
I wish I knew.

What I do know is that the focus should be on being positive and highlighting the goodness found in real people, even when the music fails.

I love Black women.
I use to love Rap music.
I wish they wouldn¹t dis each other.

What do you think about rap music? Click Here

Darryl James launched the only Black owned rap music publication, Rap Sheet in 1992. He is the author of "Bridging The Black Gender Gap," which is also the basis of a national seminar series. James was awarded the 2004 Non-fiction Award for his book on the Los Angeles Riots at the Seventh Annual Black History Month Book Fair and Conference in Chicago. He can be reached at djames@TheBlackGenderGap.com.




			THE BRIDGE: The Dis Factor by Darryl James Question posed to Queen Latifah: "What would the world be like without men?" Her answer: "A bunch of fat, happy women, and no crime." They say it's in the music I love. I suppose it¹s easy to find if you merely look at the lyrics of some of the art form¹s best and brightest artists. We should be evolving, they say. After all, Queen Latifah admonished men for calling any woman a bitch or a Œho years ago. But still, the lyrics blare through speakers all across the land, giving too many women the impression that rap music still sees them as bitches and hoes. As a rap music advocate, it hurts, but sadly, the accusations are largely true. The problem is that too many women think that the music is representative of all Black men in reality. They have been exposed to the lyrics of artists from NWA to Snoop and from Too Short to Ludacris, who rhyme quite nicely over bangin¹ beats, but don¹t have very many good things to say about women. Mos Def and Common can¹t rhyme to the rescue fast enough to counteract all of the negative content being directed at young women. Women are experiencing more at an earlier age, and with the help of modern media, particularly the music, they are becoming jaded earlier. It doesn¹t help that those images in the media‹of gold-digging, sexually detached women portrayed as "independent"--have created a warped concept of relationships that causes a great deal of confusion and contradiction. But it¹s not just the male rappers. Joining Destiny¹s Child are many other R&B acts, such as TLC, who have released music with negative images of men‹"Scrubs," "Independent Women," and "Bills, Bills, Bills," being among the most popular, while Beyonce¹s "Me. Myself, and I," promotes hopelessness. Female rappers like Trina, Khia or Lil¹ Kim rhyme about obtaining cash and gifts for sexual favors and tricking men the way they have seen men trick women. It hurts me deeply because I know too many females who try to live that lie out in real life, believing it makes them free and independent. It hurts also that too many brothers fail to show their softer side to the sisters who try to love them, and in the pain and anguish bestowed upon us by a world where everyone seems to hate us (including ourselves), we simply shove that pain onto the closest ones to us--the women who love us. I could talk about the legacy of pain and self-devaluation passed on to us by centuries of psychological abuse, or the deterioration of the Black community fabric, or the lack of mentoring or poor parenting skills. But there¹s no justification. And yet, there¹s another side. I use an equivocation of the Black experience in America. I find it hard to solely attack "the white man" for all of our ills, when we have too many Black faces demeaning our images willingly for pay. The same is true for women. They should find conflict in solely attacking men for their negative encounters, when there are too many sisters demeaning their images willingly for pay. I¹ll take the front of the line when sisters protest against video hoes, and I¹ll teach the first class at the charm school we create for the young teenage princesses who think that just because the body is young and nubile, it must be pushed up, pressed out and packaged to be shown to the world. It hurts me when I hear sisters talk about how there aren¹t any good men out there. Some of them are choosing bad men, because the music has made "thugs" popular. It has confused both sides. As Black consumers, we embraced the negativity with open arms, but there¹s a sad reality that we tend to overlook when it comes to rap music. The music belonged to us and was made by us for us until the turn of the decade of the 1990¹s, when more young white teens began to buy it. Those young white teens don¹t care if the music disrespects Black women, or women in general. They only care if it¹s loud, perceived as cool amongst their new Black friends, and repulsive to their parents. The brothers who make the negative music largely have no real concern for anything except making large amounts of cash, displaying the intrinsic attributes of a sellout. They purposely pander to the sensationalist appetites of the music industry. However, as much as I detest the negative content in the music I love, I know that the rappers have a right to make it. The same way I cringe when I hear young African Americans call each other "nigger," is the same way I cringe when I hear sisters call each other "bitch." I¹d like to see more parents, big brothers and sisters dig in and work with little boys to teach them how to honor and respect themselves and our sisters. I¹d like to see the same parents, aunts, uncles dig in and work with little girls to teach them the same. Colored girls who believe that the rainbow has long been enough, and have learned to honor and respect themselves would find encouragement in witnessing Common rhyme about how he used to love Hip Hop, because he found it difficult once the fake-gangsta emcees took over. They would find love in Hip Hop spirituals like "Retrospect for Life," in which Common lets sisters know that brothers suffer too, when an unborn child is sacrificed for the "freedom" of the unmarried parents. They would find it in the raw emotions he gives up in songs like "The Light." They would look at the mission Will Smith is on to find one woman and commit to her. He loved his ex-wife and married her at a young age, moving beyond that relationship to another commitment to his new wife, Jada Pinkett, and the offspring they are creating. And even if these shining examples were not enough in a world seemingly filled with hatred for brown girls, they could realize that the brothers who rhyme about bitches and hoes simply are not speaking about them anyway, and feel sorry for the sisters who really are depicted in the songs, as well as the boys who know no better. This is the best answer I can come with. Is it the right answer? I wish I knew. What I do know is that the focus should be on being positive and highlighting the goodness found in real people, even when the music fails. I love Black women. I use to love Rap music. I wish they wouldn¹t dis each other. What do you think about rap music? Click Here Darryl James launched the only Black owned rap music publication, Rap Sheet in 1992. He is the author of "Bridging The Black Gender Gap," which is also the basis of a national seminar series. James was awarded the 2004 Non-fiction Award for his book on the Los Angeles Riots at the Seventh Annual Black History Month Book Fair and Conference in Chicago. He can be reached at djames@TheBlackGenderGap.com.