MORE ADVANCE PRAISE FOR A GUEST IN THE HOUSE OF HIP HOP
“… an entertaining and richly informative instruction manual for both seasoned and budding allies.”—Kirkus Reviews
“It’s often said that much of the power of white supremacy lies in the invisibility of whiteness, thus making whiteness visible is key to dismantling white supremacy. A Guest in the House of Hip Hop places a sharp new spotlight on whiteness, showing us previously unseen facets of racism and classism. This is a bold and necessary work.” —Rion Amilcar Scott, author of Insurrections, Winner of the 2017 PEN/Robert W. Bingham Prize for Debut Fiction
“Mickey Hess’s brilliantly insightful book challenges us to think deeply about what is required of us, both individually and collectively, as we face the challenges of our racial history with greater courage and empathy. A Guest in the House of Hip Hop is an important, timely book, as well as a terrifically entertaining read.” —Paul Edwards, author of How to Rap 1 and 2 and The Concise Guide to Hip-Hop Music
“So many people go out of their way to try and prove that they are ‘down,’ but with Mickey you know immediately that he loves, respects, and studies this culture with every fiber of his being. I rock with him for being a brilliant and caring teacher, but even more so for just being a good man who is clearly invested in the art form that he is teaching. Very rare, but oh so needed.”
—Reef the Lost Cauze, hip hop artist
“In this fascinating and timely book, Mickey Hess combines personal honesty with a razor-sharp critical perspective, addressing the urgent need for racial learning and unlearning and exploring how hip hop knowledge can influence our understanding of US culture and improve the ways we co-exist.”
—Murray Forman, co-editor of That’s The Joint: The Hip-Hop Studies Reader
“The story of our country, how it came to be, how it came to thrive, is as complex as it is fascinating. To understand this story, it is essential that the issue of race is opened and explored with the brutal honesty that is necessary to induce dialogue, build bridges, and find real answers. I find A Guest In The House of Hip Hop to be a courageous and sincere effort and I salute Dr. Hess for his dedication to the art form that I have devoted my own life to expanding and preserving.” —David “Traum Diggs” Shanks, hip hop artist
A GUEST in the HOUSE of HIP HOP
How Rap Music Taught a Kid from Kentucky What a White Ally Should Be
Mickey Hess
Copyright © 2018 by Mickey Hess
All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher. Please direct inquires to:
Ig Publishing
Box 2547
New York, NY 10163
ISBN: 978-1-632460-78-3 (ebook)
To Danielle Hess, for her bravery in the face of injustice, and for always pushing me to be a better person.
And to Wanda Hess, for teaching me what was right.
Contents
Foreword by Masta Ace
Introduction: What Should a White Ally Do?
Two: Why White Kids Should Listen to Hip-Hop
Three: “It’s About Class, Not Race” (No It’s Not)
Five: Political Correctness and White Identity
Eight: “Where We Are Is Who We Are”
Nine: Sit Down—Censorship, Grandstanding, and Shutting Your Mouth
Ten: Who Will Tell Hip-Hop’s Story?
Twelve: Education Is the Apology
FOREWORD
I have a good friend named John. Like me, he grew up in the heyday of hip-hop when biting wasn’t allowed, anything good was either “FRESH” or “FLY,” and every kid in the neighborhood was an aspiring DJ, rapper, break dancer, or graffiti artist. Some of us did, or attempted to do, all of the above. John gravitated toward DJing when he was young and to this day has a turntable setup in his basement, where he retreats after a long day to decompress over two copies of a classic breakbeat. He dated his share of “around the way girls,” with their big door-knocker earrings and brightly colored 54/11 Reebok Aerobic sneakers, and was fully immersed in the culture like most of us were back then. He even dabbled in the drug game as a young man and found himself behind bars for a short stint. His Cocaine Cowboy days are behind him now.
With his fiftieth birthday on the horizon, I’m sure he looks back and wonders what happened to that bright-eyed kid that spun records for local parties for little to no money. Life is very different now. He’s a husband with children. He and his attractive, dark brown-skinned wife, who he’s known since high school, have been married for over a decade. His participation in hip-hop culture, which went from turntablist and party DJ to independent label owner and tour DJ, has now given way to working a “regular” job while he remains a fan of the music from a distance. But he still loves hip-hop. His love for his favorite rapper, Rakim, is only rivaled by his enthusiasm for his favorite rock band, The Grateful Dead. He considers himself a true “Dead Head” and he sometimes flies to other states to meet like-minded buddies for concerts and festivals.
Hip-hop has always been, with limitations, a culture celebrated in the spirit of inclusion. A twenty-something-year-old German kid from Berlin can feel the same urge to bob his head and make “the ugly face” when he hears the undeniable boom bap of a DJ Premier beat blasting through refrigerator-sized speakers as a black kid who was born and raised in the