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Kanye West Rewrites Hip-Hop’s Gay Record<br>
by Kenyon Farrow<br><br>
Last week Roc-A-Fella recording artist and producer extraordinaire
Kanye<br>
West did something most would think to be career suicide for a Black
hip-hop<br>
artist, and just days before dropping his sophomore effort,
"Late<br>
Registration."<br>
During an August 18 MTV interview, Kanye spoke candidly about the impact
of<br>
homophobia on his own life. He touchingly recounted his own insecurities
as<br>
a not-masculine-enough youth and challenged hip-hop artists to end
the<br>
homophobic content of their music. “I wanna just come on TV and just tell
my<br>
rappers,” West said, “just tell my friends, ‘Yo, stop it fam.’”<br><br>
Kanye’s astounding interview is being talked about all over the world
right<br>
now, but the impact is really yet to be fully seen. I certainly hope
his<br>
remarks will help bring about the day when I have to hear less of the
words<br>
“faggot” or “chi-chi man” every time I turn on the radio or go out to
dance.<br>
But Kanye’s story may be more important for what it demonstrates about
the<br>
process of social change than any particular outcome that
follows.<br><br>
Kanye’s remarks are making such a seismic impact because no part of
the<br>
explosion of media images dealing with LGBT people in recent years has
come<br>
from or been targeted at the Black community. Despite all of the talk
about<br>
how easily gay people have integrated into pop culture, as Kanye West
points<br>
out, “the exact opposite word of ‘hip-hop,' I think, is ‘gay’” --
which<br>
makes it the opposite of a defining part of young, Black life and
culture.<br><br>
Black people must see other Black people confront homophobia, and must
see<br>
LGBT people as Black people as well, if we are ever going to make
real<br>
progress shifting attitudes. Kanye, bravely and boldly, has realized
this<br>
fact. And his testimony couldn’t have come at a more apt time, in the
midst<br>
of a summer in which we have once again heard startling news about
HIV’s<br>
rampage among Black gay men -- a reality that, in no small part, is
driven<br>
by the Black community’s failure to embrace and support us.<br><br>
Kanye opened his story on MTV by talking about his close relationship
with<br>
his mother, which is captured in a song on his new CD entitled “Hey
Mama.”<br>
He explained that growing up with his mother meant that he also took on
some<br>
of her mannerisms. When he got to high school, this fact meant he was
often<br>
ridiculed for being a “fag.” And, in turn, he became very
homophobic.<br><br>
But when Kanye learned through one of his cousins that another cousin in
the<br>
family was gay, he began to rethink his stance. "It was kind of like
a<br>
turning point,” he told MTV VJ Sway, “when I was like, `Yo, this is
my<br>
cousin. I love him and I've been discriminating against
gays.'"<br><br>
And there it was, the cycle of homophobia broken.<br><br>
Kanye’s seeing his cousin as gay helped to humanize Black LGBT people in
his<br>
eyes and prompted him to in turn abandon the sort of knee-jerk
attitudes<br>
that prevent people like his cousin from being able to come out in the
first<br>
place. As Kanye so articulately explained in describing the roots of his
own<br>
homophobia, “If you see something and you don't want to be that
because<br>
there's such a negative connotation toward it, you try to separate
yourself<br>
from it so much that it made me homophobic by the time I was through
high<br>
school. Anybody that was gay I was like, ‘Yo, get away from
me.’”<br><br>
It is often assumed that the Black community is more homophobic than
the<br>
white gay community. But while there is certainly homophobia in the
Black<br>
community, the buzz surrounding Kanye’s remarks shows the real issue may
be<br>
how rarely the topic is actually addressed substantively and
humanly.<br><br>
Black people still rely most heavily on indigenous sources for
information<br>
about the world around them, particularly about issues like sexuality
and<br>
health. Several studies have reminded us of this fact, and of its impact
on<br>
the way we’ve responded to the AIDS epidemic our griots, from media
mavens<br>
to ministers, too often chose silence or disdain over education and<br>
communication. Not until mothers of dying gay men began to organize
AIDS<br>
ministries in congregations did ministers begin to speak on the
issue.<br><br>
And still today, as AIDS becomes a growing concern of mainstream
Black<br>
organizations, we hear a deafening silence about what the epidemic means
for<br>
Black gay and bisexual men in particular the group of people most
impacted<br>
by the epidemic. Black media, from entertainment to news, has
largely<br>
ignored this aspect of the epidemic.<br><br>
Recent years have certainly seen an unprecedented increase in the amount
of<br>
news coverage, TV programming and public relations efforts by white
gay<br>
advocates and celebrities that has put a “face” on the gay and
lesbian<br>
community. But when it comes to health and sexuality, the rising tide
truly<br>
does not lift all boats equally.<br><br>
Black LGBT faces have been made invisible by this media blitzkrieg of
white<br>
middle-class gays. While Black folks may watch "Queer Eye" or
"Will &<br>
Grace," the white gay images they project do little to sensitize
straight<br>
Black viewers to the needs, issues, and concerns of Black LGBT
community.<br><br>
And that’s what makes Kanye West’s bold statements so remarkable, and
gives<br>
them such potential as a catalyst for healthier discussions around
gender<br>
and sexuality in the Black community. He is a cultural icon who has
a<br>
reputation for breaking molds and taking on issues in his music that
people<br>
thought could not be broached in hip-hop -- all while still selling<br>
millions. He also has “street cred” among Black youth, and even Black
people<br>
disgruntled with the hyper-consumerism, sexism and homophobia in
hip-hop<br>
respect Kanye for his work.<br><br>
Most importantly, he has access to the sort of mass media that can carry
his<br>
message far and wide.<br><br>
But change cannot begin or end with Kanye West. It was really Kanye’s
seeing<br>
his cousin as gay that caused his shift his thinking. While public
education<br>
campaigns and more visible opposition to homophobia in the Black
community<br>
is key, it is ultimately the work that we, Black LGBT people do in
our<br>
families and in our communities that will make the difference.<br><br>
This summer may go down in history as a huge turning point for the
Black<br>
lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community, and for our
relationship<br>
to the Black community at large. On one hand, we have seen great
setbacks:<br>
the down-low craze continues to demonize us; new research suggested half
of<br>
us in major cities may already be positive.<br><br>
But on the other hand, we are engaging the community with renewed<br>
determination and hope. A few weeks ago Rev. Al Sharpton announced that
he<br>
was launching a public education campaign to combat homophobia in the
Black<br>
community. In early July, the Black LGBT community in the nation’s
capital<br>
publicly challenged Rev. Willie Wilson’s homophobic remarks. The New
York<br>
State Black Gay Network's July REVIVAL! was a direct call to challenge
the<br>
spiritual violence of Black clergy, and to affirm the lives of Black
LGBT<br>
people of faith. And in June, The Souls A-Fire! Conference in
Chicago<br>
brought together activists, academics and artists to discuss sexuality
and<br>
the Black church.<br><br>
Maybe we have finally reached the “sick and tired of being sick and
tired”<br>
point. Everyday, I’m sensing greater resolve in the voices of weblogs,
at<br>
community planning meetings and even in social spaces that suggests
a<br>
collective statement: I am fed up. But I am ready to fight. Maybe it is
now,<br>
when our backs are against the wall and we have nothing more to lose,
that<br>
we can begin to see that what we have to everything to gain.<br><br>
But in order gain, we must be willing to tell our stories to our
families,<br>
our neighbors, and our communities. And we must support (and continue
to<br>
challenge, as we must also deal with how Black women are depicted in<br>
hip-hop) brothers and sisters like Kanye, who take great risks to get
our<br>
backs.<br><br>
==========<br><br>
Kenyon Farrow is co-editor of the anthology “Letters from Young
Activists:<br>
Today’s Rebels Speak Out,” due out this November with Nation Books, and
the<br>
communications and public education coordinator for New York State Black
Gay<br>
Network. This piece originally appeared on BlackAIDS.org.<br><br>
<br>
August 25, 2005<br>
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