[Can't begin to describe how weird that Obama/Lincoln mash-up is behind my miscegenated ass. Me thinks America is still very confused about mixed heritage people (and people of color in general). =T]

[Senbei - Chameleon (right-click and "save-target-as" to DL)]

Yes: I realize fully that to post a song I wrote myself as being “brilliant” and/or “resilient” is highly out-of-pocket, BUT I’m working on regaining trust in my own thinking and decision making after a year of questioning the sh*t out of everything I know about myself and the world. This is my latest attempt at reclaiming the once not-so-ellusive ability to think of myself as a strong, forward-thinking human being, capable of speaking to and for people like myself.

Choose a side u BZ!

I’ve been in relative limbo recently regarding my place in Hip-Hop this past year, with particular attention to emceeing and the role it plays as Hip-Hop’s literal voice. I’ve always viewed the aspect of emceeing as a vehicle for people who have been silenced. Emceeing to me, is for people who are working to combat internalized self-hatred and are working to author their own narrative of what the world has bestowed upon them, taken from them and done to shape their identity. Emceeing to me, is for people who strongly recognize and remember the roots of Hip-Hop culture and are able to juxtapose, as Tricia Rose states, “a rich alternative space for multicultural, male and female, culturally relevant, anti-racist community building,” versus a music industry that amplifies certain narratives and ignores others, in turn leaving young people (and white Americans who do not have interraction with people of color) with a vastly skewed and problematic view of Black and Brown men and women.

While their are hella ways I am able to see myself fitting into my own definitions of what an “authentic” emcee ought to be, I am fully aware that every Hip-Hopper in the world has differing opinions of what is, and is not “authentic” when it comes to Hip-Hop, particularly with respects to emceeing. It is not the least bit difficult for me to see why a person who has experienced explicit racism first-hand (ie: Police brutality and/or being called a name that brings one’s mind back to a time when some people were property and 3/5 of a human being…) could view a song about how “hard” it is being invisible and blending into the background, as “soft” and/or “emo” and therefore privileged and not “authentic.” On one hand, it has always been in my nature, due especially to my parents, to respect the opinions and life experiences of others, particularly when I have been privy to resources others may not have. On the other hand, acknowledging that other people struggle in different, and yes, many times more blatant ways than I, does not in my opinion at this time, justify the ending of my practice of rhyme-writing.

Amongst the various conclusions I am coming to these days, one was reached with the assistance of a comment left on this blog under the post Shikata Ga Naidadaimean. I have to give ridiculous props to a reader of ColinResponse named “Sheila,” who wrote me this back in late April, at 2:46AM…

Senbei,
So, I realize that I’m a little more than a month late since you first posted this, but I came across your blog via a link from Adriel Luis’ blog recently. I don’t have connections to either of you–really, just random clicks of my mouse–but I’m trying to muster the most heartfelt thanks that I can as some feeble offering, in response to the jewels that you both have provided to me! I know this is cliche, but it’s true…words can be so limiting sometimes, and I feel so frustrated by them, but…
I just watched your ‘Chameleon’ clip, and it ROCKED me, as in to the core. My interpretation of it is obviously subjective and may not be what you intended, but I know what truths I’ve found in that interpretation, regardless of how painfully harsh I find those truths to be. One thing I have in common with you is that I am also of mixed race–Filipino and Irish–and damn it, for 27 years, I have REALLY, REALLY struggled to find my place between those two lines, blurring them sometimes and feeling guilty for doing it. I realize that probably everyone struggles, but dayuummm…I wonder if others feel like a refugee in their own skin the way I sometimes do. Usually, I just ignore the shitstorm in my head and press on, but as the years roll by, avoidance gets tougher…and I feel like I’m shortchanging myself. I’m just now starting to realize that maybe I don’t need to neatly compartmentalize myself in the first place, because life isn’t so neat. And maybe I don’t need to duck my head in the sand so much. Which is why I love both of your blogs…I find semblances of myself and my issues (issues of not only being of mixed race, but of the crap endured by someone who’s not traditionally classified as being of Anglo origins)in them…regardless of whether these semblances have seen the light of day, or even, the light of consciousness. And it helps me through, it really, truly does…through my 9-5, through my marriage, my relationship with self and others, and just everything, in general. And I give you both serious props for being so open, and for being SO very honest. Exposing your true colors is terrifying and it makes me feel so…well, exposed, but you do it…effortlessly it seems, though I doubt it’s always so effortless. Thanks for inspiring me to drop that ‘refugee’ mentality and really confront the mountains that are not only automatically placed in my path, but that I’ve also created for myself.
Anyway, sorry, as I know I’m writing a freakin’ BOOK, and I hope you are able to follow…but I just had to say these things to explain that what you do IS APPRECIATED, IS ADMIRED, IS NOTICED, and IS, TO THE UTMOST, RESPECTED. I’m sure you hear this all of the time, but I wanted you to have an, albeit small, explanation behind my gratitude.

Sheila:
Our blurring racial lines is not a choice we get to make, but we do get to decide how we do it. Thank you for reminding me about that.

When “Keeping it Real,” Goes…Everywhere:

A few things happened this year that really jolted me to reexamine my positionality in Hip-Hop as an emcee, and in the world at large. The first was my reading the Master’s Thesis of an SFSU Africana Studies Major entitled Asian American’s Emulation of Black Masculinity Through Hip-Hop, about (to make a long story short) cultural appropriation of Hip-Hop by Chinese American Emcee, Jin and how he “emulated Black masculinity” through emceeing, to lessen his internalized and external emasculation as an Asian man, at the hands of racism. Upon first reading this, I honestly felt pretty offended by the word “emulation.” I felt that it implied in a condescending way, that Asian American men who emcee’d were being disingenuous or inauthentic, and also felt that it essentialized “Black masculinity” and “Hip-Hop,” to wearing fitted baseball caps, being mysoginistic, homophobic, hypersexual, etc.

Upon second, third and fourth read, I began to work at deconstructing why I might feel this way, and the fact that my Hip-Hop, masculinity and Asian American “authenticity” have all come into question in one way or another at different times. Due to my upward mobility, fair skin privilege, Japanese ancestry, Anglo ancestry, mixed heritage, working to be an ally to Queer folks and women, being raised working-class in Richmond, and a plethora of other choices (and non-choices); identity in each of these communities have come into conflict at different points, blurring and questioning others’ definitions of “Hip-Hoppers,” “manhood,” and “Asian/Japanese American.” While this has caused me to tend to question myself almost constantly, I try to view it as a enormous blessing and advantage in a country/world where most are unable or unwilling to examine their own positionality, privilege and oppression.

The second thing that rocked me this year was delivered via the internets from a brilliant, albeit (slightly) differing frame of reference in an essay by Kenyon Farrow. I stumbled upon “We Real Cool?: On Hip-Hop, Asian Americans, Black Folks and Appropriation” when researching “cultural appropriation” and looking for routes to deconstruct notions of “authenticity” in human interaction in general. My words cannot do justice to the eloquence of his voice, and as an out Gay, Black man, I am hard pressed to imagine the “pain + love = growth” that his life experience has afforded him. His points on people of African heritage sharing a history of not only never being able to “own” anything, but also at one time being the actual property of others, truly sent me into a deep space of questioning everything that could be problematic about my participation in Hip-Hop as an Asian American. I pondered whether I was “taking something” from people who have been not only been repeatedly stolen from, but histroically, literally stolen themselves. Needless to say, I began to ask (and continue to do so), “where is my place in all this?”.

It has been interesting to me, in my examining Hip-Hop and issues surrounding masculinity, that many of the Homo-Hoppers (Queer Hip-Hoppers) I have read works on and by, are some of the strongest proponents of maintaining Hip-Hop as a site specifically and only for African Americans. What interests me about this is that in most Hip-Hoppers’ (and outsiders’) heads today, Hip-Hop and rap music is viewed predominantly as a hypermasculinized, hypersexual, and heteronormative space. By XXL, The Source’s, and a long list of other famous rappers’ definitions, outwardly Gay emcees would be viewed as “inauthentic,” and not “real” Hip-Hop. In this instance, Queer Black Hip-Hoppers, not unlike Asian American Hip-Hoppers, are challenging (in both similar and vastly different ways) issues surrounding “authenticity” in regards to “common sense” understandings of what Hip-Hop identity actually is, and where it is going.

What I did not agree with in his essay, were the ways in which Kenyon Farrow seemed to repeatedly lump the entire “Asian American” experience as relatively similar to a white American one. The Hmong and Cambodian gangbagers I grew up around (who are still alive) would beg to differ, and even the experience of my being raised by a white mother was never able to save me from external and inernalized racism. PLEASE read the essay if you have time, and also scroll down to “Oliver’s” comment. Oliver Wang is a hero in the Asian American Studies Community for his thoughts on Hip-Hop and the his/hertories of our people. Both Oliver and Kenyon are absolute geniuses in their own right and it is my opinion that Hip-Hop nerds and social justice activistas alike, will appreciate their thinking.

Another thing that happened during this process was that I began to get a few (maybe repeat offenders) anonymous comments regarding some of my thoughts on Hip-Hop’s current state, from people or someone calling me a “model minority,” “queer,” “b*tch,” that “plays the violin.” While I’ve had to work internally for a long time to get to a place where I feel confident enough to wear my heart on my sleeve on this blog, I can recall very vividly, many of the young men of Richmond (who associated Asianness & whiteness with femininity, and femininity with weakness) assuming I was “that dude” you could f*ck with. Not getting my ass kicked was a full-time job and I used my brain to slowly become f*cking good at it. It has taken a long time and a lot of effort to let go of that job, and take off my “cool” armor.

These comments reminded me:
1. Why I used to wear it.
2. That if I truly am going to be an open and true ally to women/Queer folks I need to be ready to have my masculinity challenged (and be cool with that).
3. That I should change the settings on ColinResponse so that people need to be signed-in to comment and can’t leave a ig’nant comment anonymously.

wRAP it up B!

This time away from writing rhymes and confining my thought-process to theoretical essays for the last 6 months, has both opened my mind to a vast array of overflowing diabolical/intellectual craziness, as well as put a pain in my heart and soul. I am slowly beginning to realize that the release and therapeutic aspects of writing rhymes is sorely missed in my life, and while I still have yet to write a single rhyme since I finished Shikata Ga Nai vol. II, I am slowly gathering the strength to see where opening my notebook and putting on an instrumental will lead me.

When it comes to the music I’ve created over the last decade, I have found that there is no one more critical of it than myself. I usually tend to hate every song I’ve ever made 2-4 weeks after it has been completed (and find that many of my other artist friends go through this same process, regardless of their medium). To me, what’s been tough, as well as liberatory, has been acknowledging simultaneously, what is dope and groundbreaking about the music I’ve made, as well as the ways it could upset, frustrate and/or hurt people I respect and care about deeply.

One thing I DO know is that this journey has been well worth it, and when I finally do get around to mustering the strength to pick up a pen and pad again, I’ll do it with a rememberance that everything that I/we record is forever, and nothing can be taken back after that sh*t is laid down. While I will never f*ck with anybody who forgets about or ignores the roots and foundations of Hip-Hop, and will always work to be conscious of my own positionality; in the same way I find it impossible to imagine Hip-Hop as a solely hypermasculine, heteronormative, hypersexualized, cultural commodity, I find it impossible to imagine myself not finding identity within and through its practice. Hate it or love it: Hip-Hop saved my mixed heritage, Asian American, miscegenated, Richmond/El Cerrito, naive, scholarly ass. The least I can do is love it back.
_______
If you cared (or were bored =P) enough to read this, I deeply appreciate it. ALL my love and gratitude for the dozens of friends, fam, mentors, and loved ones who dialogued with me through this past year (especially my brilliant/resilient wifey). I’d be lost without yall!

Peace, Love, Blessings, Brilliance and Resilience,

Senbei

p.s. I’ll be away at camp as a counselor for the next 8 days with tomorrow’s leaders, letting them school me on how I’m stuck in my old, corny-ass ways and need to reevaluate mi vida. I’ll tell u all about it when I return. =P