The morning of March 5th, I threw on my big cammy fatigues that I used to wear for bombing* because of all the hidden pockets. Walking out the door, I grabbed a large papier mâché book, the title reading, “Books Not Bombs,” and headed toward Manhattan’s Hunter College for an interview with Good Day New York. The sky slowly took on an ambrosia haze as the rain beat down. On the corners and streets, people began to converge everywhere. Through the halls, kids in oversized pants swished and hollered, “Yo ma, Good Day New York, ‘Books Not Bombs!’” I smiled and looked on as a young African woman declared, fist in air, “It’s time for a revolution!” She had not worked so long and hard to go to school just to get her tuition raised!

In her pause, I felt the thumping of a familiar beat and saw a small crowd collecting around the corner. There it was, the ghetto-blaster and young men in velour “breaking.” I couldn’t believe it. I felt so nostalgic. (Breaking is a style of dance made popular in the 1980s.) I thought I had gone through a time warp. But then again I had that same feeling about going to war with Iraq. I had that same feeling when a Bush came into the presidency. I got that same feeling when I looked out at my students and saw that same sense of disparity as they were newly required to say the pledge of allegiance.

Listening to people accuse today’s generation of being devoid of culture or out of touch with today’s politics, I can’t help but immediately think of hip hop culture and question how they missed it. Today’s political and economic climate is so similar to that of the height of hip hop, I’ve been kind of bracing myself to see what working-class subculture will grow from it. Now I realize it’s actually hip hop reborn.

In her newly released book, New York Ricans From the Hip Hop Zone, Raquel Z. Rivera points out the economic conditions that caused hip hop to arise. She writes: Early Puerto Rican and Afro-Caribbean and Black American hip hop artists transformed obsolete vocational skills from marginal occupations into raw materials for creativity and resistance…. Hip hop culture was born out of material deprivation, in the midst of dwindling income, educational access and job opportunities. Rivera discusses not only the Puerto Rican presence in hip hop but also touches upon its power to get young working-class people to unite. One reason I am so nostalgic about hip hop is because it caused a sense of awareness among African Americans, preaching educational and nationalistic rhymes. I also saw another way to fight or settle disputes through “battling” – what better way to take out your aggressions than dance or graffiti art?

New York Ricans From the Hip Hop Zone primarily focuses on the Puerto Rican presence in hip hop since its inception. Often hip hop is associated strictly with African Americans and ignores the African diaspora in its entirety. Rivera points out the socio-economic commonalities among African Americans and darker-skinned Puerto Ricans especially in the South Bronx (the birthplace of American hip hop). Not only did they speak the same slang, live in the same neighborhood, undergo the same discrimination from the cops, but their roots reflect the same rhythms in their music and dance. However, it was Puerto Ricans that often got charged with “trying to be Black.”

Even the music was characterized by the features that both Puerto Ricans and Black Americans are often charged with. The mass marketing of hip hop has had much to do with the exoticization of dark ghetto “virility” as a temporary distraction rom “white” suburban monotony. The ways in which breaking tended to be described (“natural,” “instinctive,” “vibrant,” “gritty,” “dynamic” and “exciting”) bring to mind cliché exoticizations of the ghetto, particularly Black ghetto as primeval, exciting, dangerous, mysterious and cool. Breaking’s magic resided in its purported primitive simplicity.

Aside from addressing obvious class and economic issues that are/were prevalent in society, one of the most important features of this book is that it was initially written as a thesis and discusses hip hop from an educational perspective, legitimizing hip hop as an academic subject. As an educator and a student, I find this a significant step toward advancement for struggling students. One of the most enowned educational philosophers, Paulo Freire, explains the importance of teaching in terms that others can grasp or relate to. Freire articulates that “the raising of critical consciousness in people who have been oppressed is a first step in helping them to obtain critical literacy and, ultimately, liberation from oppressive ideologies.” I myself have had 14 to 17-year-old students who performed at or below a second-grade level, never read a book in their lives, but witnessed their capacity to read Vibe magazine from cover to cover.

I’ll never forget walking into a classroom of 20 or so juvenile offenders in Van Nuys, California. They were screaming, throwing paper, laughing, intimidating each other and trying to intimidate me, but waiting to see what I was going to do. I took a deep breath, turned to the chalkboard and wrote “Hip Hop,” then I asked, “Who can tell me what the nine elements of hip hop are?” Suddenly a dozen kids who usually used school as an excuse to fight, sleep or otherwise cause trouble because they were either overwhelmed or patronized by the curriculum, were vying for a chance to be called upon.

Today several post-secondary schools across the nation do teach hip hop as a subject. Now, Rivera proceeds to advance this trend by introducing it as more formal academia among university students and professors, making her book an invaluable contribution both to the Puerto Rican community as well as the academic community.

--Melissa Chadburn is a law student from California. *bombing refers to doing graffiti art.