by Kyle "El Guante" Myhre 1/14/2009

Yet these actions and many more are often termed “hip-hop activism,” both by observers and active participants. It’s not a huge, important deal—people can use whatever labels they feel comfortable using—but it does point to some deeper issues regarding the nature of the relationship between the hip-hop community (a similarly problematic term, but that’s the subject for another article) and activism.

In short, there’s a lot of “hip-hop activism” out there, but there’s a big difference between effective community organizing that has hip-hop elements to it and less-effective actions that wave the hip-hop banner but don’t really do anything. For every activist or action that is the former, we have a lot of the latter, and as a community, we could be doing so much more.

The key word is “sustainability.” We all like to throw the livest shows, organize the biggest events and get the most famous speakers/performers to take part in our conferences. But how can we create real, sustainable, effective, long-lasting change in our communities? Concerts and big events are great, and can be perfect kick-off points for more sustained campaigns, but it seems like a lot of events these days are events for events’ sake.

For example, I’ve been a part of a number of events that have featured graffiti walls. This gives local writers a space to showcase their talent and be recognized as the great artists they are. This is definitely a positive thing… for a weekend. But I never really stopped to think about how we could make this sort of thing sustainable once the event was over. Or why there aren’t more graf walls 365 days a year in the city. Or why arts funding in the schools consistently gets cut. Or why there aren’t more after-school opportunities for young visual artists to hone their skills. It’s the whole “give a man a fish” deal. And this is just one example; hip-hop activism as a whole seems to be event-oriented rather than campaign-oriented. This needs to shift if we are to realize our full potential as a force for real change.And again, there’s nothing wrong with a big concert or a one-time event. In fact, they can be amazing and effective. But we need to start going further. Change comes from sustained community organizing—people coming together around a specific problem and figuring out for themselves how to fix it on an institutional level. No Band-Aids. No rhetoric. Real solutions.

Don’t get me wrong—there is some amazing work being done under the banner of hip-hop activism, even here in the Twin Cities. I’ve seen youth from YO! The Movement organizing discussion groups on racism and white privilege, artists like Kristoff Krane, Big Quarters, I Self Divine and my people in the Minnesota Spoken-Word Association using hip-hop in schools and community centers to teach leadership skills on top of artistic skills, countless artists donating their time and talent to fundraisers and benefits for progressive organizations, and much more. It’s happening, and the potential for more great work to be done is boundless.

I think a large part of the answer is cooperation. Activists shouldn’t blindly try to shoehorn hip-hop into their work, and hip-hop artists who don’t have experience in the activist world shouldn’t feel that it’s their responsibility to save the universe. Instead, we can all work together, recognizing one another’s strengths and building something real. A few simple ideas:

1. Rather than just playing benefits, fundraisers, rallies or other activist events, we as artists can take an active role in planning them. Our experience in event planning, stage management and promotion can be invaluable for activists who lack that same experience. Our connections to the community can bring a new audience into the activist world.
   
2. Related to that, one of our biggest strengths in the hip-hop community is networking—email lists, Facebook, MySpace, blogs, hand-to-hand promo, contact sheets, etc. If we join forces with a particular campaign or movement, we can really make a big difference. Sharing and combining networks, especially on the internet, is the next frontier of mass movements.
   
3. We can also utilize performance space as activist space. We all have merch tables; at shows, we can have info sheets, petitions, event announcements and more from whatever causes we support next to our CDs and stickers. We can let a representative from an organization we support jump on the mic for 30 seconds to promote the next meeting. It’s about building community.
   
4. As artists, we can strive to challenge our audiences. Odds are, if you start chanting “fuck the police,” the whole crowd will gladly follow you. Try saying something that isn’t so easy to follow, that will transcend preaching to the choir and actually get people thinking. If art is elevated language, we should have elevated ideas to reflect that.
   
5. This is a more abstract one, but I think it’s important that artists understand that doing this sort of work doesn’t have to be out of altruism. We have a lot to gain by allying ourselves with activist organizations or campaigns, and there’s nothing wrong with that—it’s just synergy. By helping out in whatever ways we can, we gain access to a new audience, high profile opportunities, increased credibility and much more. No one wants to be an opportunist, obviously, but that doesn’t mean we can’t work out mutually-beneficial relationships.

With Obama in the White House, some might be tempted to relax a little. But the opposite needs to happen. Relatively progressive elected leaders are, if anything, more susceptible to the demands of social movements than ridiculously conservative ones; Obama isn’t going to change anything if we’re not pressuring him.

And we are in position to apply real pressure. I would argue that our power as a community doesn’t come from some abstract, mythical life-energy called “hip-hop”; it comes from the simple facts that we know lots of people, are good at organizing things, have experience communicating a message and all the other little things that are just as important to activists as they are to rappers. I wouldn’t call it “hip-hop activism.” I’d just call it acknowledging our strengths, getting involved, staying active, and working for effective, sustainable change.

Kyle “El Guante” Myhre is an emcee and social justice activist. Contact him at guantemail@yahoo.com

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