Thinking Forward—A Hip Hop History Lesson with Dr. Francesca

Episode 37 | Aired on September 26, 2020

The Hip Hop Education Program at Hart House is heading into its second year and will be exploring the landscape of Canadian Hip Hop, both past and present. Jessica Rayne and Zoe Dille from the Hart House Programming team are co-hosting the show this week as they discuss all things Hip Hop with Dr. Francesca D'Amico-Cutherbert. Dr. D'Amico-Cuthbert is currently doing a Postdoctoral Fellowship at Jackman Humanities Institute at U of T. Expanding on her previous research which focused on Hip-hop culture, identity and Anti-Black practices and systems of power. Her current project will explore the history of the music industry and how it shaped the collective agency of people who are part of the Hip-hop community in Toronto. We are so delighted to engage with Dr. D'Amico Cuthbert again as part of the Hart House Hip Hop Education program.

Read Transcript

Jessica
Hello and welcome to The West Meeting Room. We are broadcasting from Hart House and you're listening to CiUT 89.5 FM and we're grateful to be taking up space on Dish With One Spoon Territory. I'm Jessica Rayne, Program Associate at Hart House and I'll be your host for today's show along with my colleague Zoe Dille. Today we'll be discussing all things Hip-hop and social justice with Hip-hop Historian Dr. Francesca D’Amico-Cuthbert. Dr. D'Amico-Cuthbert is currently doing a Postdoctoral Fellowship at Jackman Humanities Institute at U of T. Expanding on her previous research which focused on Hip-hop culture, identity and Anti-Black practices and systems of power. Her current project will explore the history of the music industry, and how it shaped the collective agency of people who are part of the Hip-hop community in Toronto. We are so delighted to engage with Dr. D'Amico-Cuthbert again as part of the Hart House Hip-hop Education program. So please check out harthouse.ca to learn more about the many Hip-hop Education programs and events that we have for this year. You can also follow us on social media @harthouseuoft.

Zoe
Alright, so I want to thank Dr. Francesca D'Amico Cuthbert and I wanted to start out with a few introductory questions and get us all up to speed. So my first question for you is tell us a little bit about what does it mean to be a Jackman Humanities Fellow? And what's your sort of area of research and a little bit about the work that you'll be doing as a Fellow this year at U of T?

Francesca
Sure. So the Jackman Humanities Institute, I was invited for the 2020-2021 cohort to look at their general theme which focuses on collectives. And so a lot of people are thinking about collectives in a variety of ways. But in terms of my work, I was invited as part of a role where we're engaged with the community. And so the community of my choice was the Toronto Hip-hop community. And so I guess a little bit about the research that I'm doing there - At the end, close to the end, of my doctoral project, I started thinking about, you know, how I would like to kind of shift the focus of my research, and where my new interests lied. And I found that I was increasingly interested in the nature of systems of power, and how systemic inequalities have taken shape across various historical periods, particularly in relation to Anti-Black practices in various systems of power. 

And so my current Postdoctoral project at the institute expands on research that I had already been doing about the Toronto Hip-hop community, which to date had really been focused on the role of Canadian rappers in articulating a very specific set of ways of thinking through Black Canadian-ness, and particularly how rappers engaged complex dialogues about the politics of nationhood, citizenship, and what it meant to belong to Canada and what it meant to be Canadian. And so when I started thinking about how to shift my research interests, I decided that I wanted to explore, in greater depth, the history of the racial economy of Toronto’s music industry, and in particular, how it's shaped the collective agency of people who are part of the Hip-hop community in Toronto. And in particular, what it meant to be a practitioner and to have access to resources and revenue streams and also exposure in the marketplace, which historically, for people who are Hip-hop practitioners in Toronto, it has been a very uneven infrastructural support system for the homegrown set of artists here. And so I'm really interested in thinking through why it is the market looks the way it does and why, in some ways, you know, when we look south of the border, there's a really deep and elaborate and profitable American music industry in relation to Hip-hop. And so you know, some of my major questions are Why does the Canadian market not look the same way when we have great talent, and we've had a long history in Toronto Hip-hop culture dating back to the 70s and 80s. 

Zoe
Wow. So that is a whole lot to unpack.

[laughter]

Francesca
Sure, yes.

Zoe
And actually, luckily enough for us, we do have, throughout the course of this interview, we do have a few questions that kind of circle back to some of the themes you brought up, particularly around this kind of dynamics of power, Canadian national identity. And, and just kind of unpacking a little bit this kind of critical, social and racial justice moment that we're at. But to bring it back to the beginning, let's say, you touched on your PhD research... I want to just flip it over to Jessica to kind of sort of ask you to get into a bit of your early years, like maybe pre or during your PhD years,

Jessica
Yeah, Francesca - So I think, you know, we're really so interested in the work that you're doing. Especially as we look at Hip-hop Education, as you know, a way to engage students at Hart House and at U of T. But I wanted to ask you really about that journey, because I think it's very unique and very interesting. So I want to bring it to the beginning and kind of ask you about what was that first introduction to Hip-hop? What was that connection that kind of led you to now pursuing an entire career, an academic career at that? So going through your PhD, getting that PhD, and then also making that career of research around Hip-hop. So you can take it back just to share your journey. What was it that connected you to Hip-hop to make it, you know, kind of like your career calling? 

Francesca
Sure. I think there's a couple of things. So interestingly enough, though I consider myself a scholar of Hip-hop, my interest in Black music, and Black music that’s oriented towards social justice, actually began with Janet Jackson. For those of us, you know, not to date myself, but it's my most favorite album,

[laughter]

Zoe
I'm laughing.

Jessica
Yes! My sister’s obsessed with Janet Jackson. 

Francesca
I'm obsessed. I think the first time I really got into social justice music by Black artists was with Janet Jackson's 1989 album Rhythm Nation 1814. And at the time I was - so I have an artist background, I think is the first thing that really drew me towards culture. Period. So at the time, I was taking dance lessons. And I remember our dance teacher for the year decided that we were, our end, you know, our final piece for the year would be choreographed to Rhythm Nation. And I remember seeing Janet, you know, on television, on Much Music. And I was enthralled, you know, by her talent, but especially by the lyrics in that album. And I know, I wouldn't learn until much later that Janet was inspired by a lot of the news cycle on CNN, you know, when she was writing that album. Things like school shootings across the country that were happening, but also like a lot of R&B Artists at the time, they were looking at the power of Hip-hop culture. You know, ‘89 is also the same year that Public Enemy released Fight the Power. 

So there was a lot of social consciousness stirring in Black music in the United States as a whole. But Hip-hop was really a source of interest for artists outside of the genre. And so I think my love of Janet and the social consciousness that was a huge part of that album was also paired with the fact that I remember, you know, watching much music as a child and seeing Maestro Fresh Wes on television. And it, you know, at first I didn't realize he was Canadian. And I think, you know, part of what made him so interesting is that within the Hip-hop aesthetic, he really set himself apart in the way that he was dressed. You know, he was dressed as an orchestra conductor, which I think, again, you know, as a young person, you don't always think about how powerful these images are until you begin to deconstruct them in your older years. 

But even seeing Maestro in that aesthetic was really powerful because it challenged the aesthetics, the Eurocentric aesthetics I should say, of what we imagined an orchestra director to look like - Or sorry, conductor. And so beyond those early years of being a dancer, I also eventually would become a musician and I would go to art school as a high school student. And so I was really immersed in music and dance and theater. And so once I went to university, I also paired that with a love for history, because I'm a trained historian. And so, once, I had dreams of also being a lawyer. I mean, like every young person, you know, what you hope to be shifts and transforms over time. So I was always interested in social justice and culture. And when I decided to apply for my graduate degree, I really wanted to find a way to marry those passions together. And of course, loving Hip-hop as being a part of the Hip-hop generation. I initially did my master's degree, with a focus on the music that came out of the Civil Rights and Black Power movement. So soul and funk in particular. And once I decided to pursue a PhD, I decided that I wanted my years to be focused on Hip-hop, both in the United States, and I've done some work, obviously, on Canada. And then I increasingly became an interested in Hip-hop Education. So I mean, I think that over time, my interests have shifted ever so slightly, but I've always been consistently interested in thinking about the role of culture in social justice movements.

Zoe
So I have to say, you've made me rethink Janet Jackson in all new ways. And I'll have to go back to Rhythm Nation. I mean, it was great. I remember that video was just killing it back when, you know, Much Music was the thing and MTV and all of that. And, you know, from a choreographical standpoint, like she's amazing and stuff. But I have never really looked at her as a continuum of a kind of social justice movement, you know. So that's interesting. But the other piece I, and this is kind of what you've just said, kind of leads into the next few questions that we have... So you mentioned you're a trained historian and I feel, and I just kind of wrote this, I wrote down that phrase “trained historian” because I feel, in some ways, that is kind of the role and purpose of Hip-hop as well. Like it's a repository of histories and voices and narratives. And so I just thought that was an interesting, parallel. But to go back to a bit about what you just said about Maestro and seeing him and what he challenged for you visually and not even knowing or kind of immediately assuming, or not assuming that he was Canadian. It kind of leads into this question that I have for you, which is how do you feel that Canadian Hip-hop is both part of the overall Hip-hop narrative? And more specifically, how does it inform the Canadian identity? Specifically, if you feel that it does -  well, I think you do - but in what ways do you see, you know, those relationships?

Francesca
I think being part of a larger Hip-hop canon - of course, the early pioneers in Toronto were looking south of the border to places like New York City, and thinking about how they were going to contribute to the culture and construct also a unique narrative. If we look at the early generation, the you know, the architects of Toronto Hip-hop, I think that they were trying in their own way to contribute to the culture. So as to be accepted inside of that Hip-hop narrative. And it's not really until we get to, in some ways, the what was called the second generation, you know, of Hip-hop practitioners in Toronto, where we start to see musicians in particular carving out a very unique narrative. So we think about artists like Kardinal Offishall, who on his song Bacardi slang really tries to set apart Toronto, and into some degrees, Canada more broadly - but Toronto specifically from their American counterparts. 

So as to just suggest that there's something unique happening in Toronto and Hip-hop being very much a trans local art form, meaning that it's connected, you know, these very various local spaces, you know, Toronto, New York City, Los Angeles, Atlanta - all of these places are connected through Hip-hop culture and the pillars of Hip-hop. But they also have very unique stories to tell based on the places that these artists come from. And so, I think that in a lot of ways, while Toronto artists were trying to be a part of that culture by practicing the forms within Hip-hop, whether it be breakdancing or emceeing, or graffiti writing, or DJing, I think they were also trying to find ways where they could represent themselves and their city. You know, claim their city, first off. First, we know Toronto, of course as the Tdot or the T dot O, and later, you know, become “the six” through Hip-hop culture. And so trying to claim that local space, but also trying to articulate their own identity. So within a larger framework of multiculturalism, I think Hip-hop, which in its early days in Toronto had an incredible amount of Caribbean inflections, whether it be the use of instrumentals, or the vocabulary, you know, used in Hip-hop, a Toronto Hip-hop, or the vernacular even.

Zoe
Which is common, sorry to interject but you're just - On that point, I mean, that is really going strong today, because those cultures, Hip-hop and Dancehall have blended. So, almost you know, seamlessly in a lot of ways, right? And you hear, as you say, those particular inflections, or you hear specific words, or you see a lot in here, a lot of patois. You see in here, a lot of Dancehall kind of beats, and it's really interesting to have seen how that has just strengthened, you know, from the early stages that you just referenced up to now where it's completely normalized to have somebody who is not of any kind of Caribbean descent or anything, have some kind of word, some kind of rhythm or be participating or partnering with someone who is from the Dancehall world. It’s completely acceptable now.

Francesca
Right. And I think, of course, you know, it's interesting how so many people who, let's say are the younger generation, or who are not familiar with Toronto, imagine that to be the way Toronto speaks. And I think that's an interesting phenomenon. I think, too, for those of us who teach the history of Hip-hop, or engage in Hip-hop education, there's also a potential danger in that because it tends to erase the contributions of Caribbean Canadian artists and to identify the fact that the inflections are in fact, from, you know, routed through the Caribbean. And it's not - it has come to be known as the way Toronto identifies or, you know, speaks, for example. But I think that if we don't do the work to continually remind people that this is a Caribbean contribution to Canadian Hip-hop identity, I think there's a danger of erasing that unique element of, you know, what really sets us apart from other places in the Hip-hop, you know, globally to say, right? 

Even though places like New York City have comparable, you know, demographics in terms of having large communities from the Caribbean who have migrated to New York City, there's something unique that's happened here in Toronto, where it becomes the forefront of our Hip-hop culture in a way that I think has not necessarily come to be in the same way in New York City. Even though certainly, you know, we could think about a number of Caribbean American artists. You know, whether they be Phife Dawg, you know, from A Tribe Called Quest or Busta Rhymes. They certainly are, they're, you know, they're in that Hip-hop community, but it hasn't been as much as in the forefront as the collective Toronto community. 

Zoe
Interesting. So Jessica, hope you're taking note of that with Drake because...

Francesca
He’s certainly, you know, a controversial character for some folks.

Zoe
Well, yeah, he definitely does exactly what you just said. I mean, he goes to Jamaica a lot, as many artists do and he's collaborated with various artists. And he also has that inflection, he uses that vernacular, etc, etc. Right? And so for the biggest selling artists, not just Canadian, but like worldwide like that, What is that? What does that say? Just to your point, Francesca. So when you meet up with him, Jess, you need to have that conversation.

[laughter]

Jessica
Definitely. I have a lot of questions myself for him.

Zoe
Yeah, I know. But just so so much there again. And you know, just trying to make sure we do justice to all these points that you've brought up - you were you were speaking about Michie Mee earlier and about Maestro and I know you have a lot of love for Eternia as it were. And I wondered if you wanted to just kind of say a few words about who she is? And how, why do you think she's important? How she kind of fits in with the narrative of those, those other artists that you've referenced?

Francesca
I think, you know, one of the reasons, one of the things I find so incredible about Toronto, is the way that female talent has been not just at the onset of Hip-hop culture - you know, we think about artists like Michie Mee, right? You know, she in a lot of ways represents that, you know, the famous Hip-hop recording, Ladies First. You know, the first of our talent is female. Which I think is a unique attribute of our Hip-hop story in Toronto. The fact that the first artists to really gain traction, it was a woman. And that sets us apart from many other Hip-hop spaces. And I think, you know, whether we think about, you know, artists like Michie Mee or Eternia, or you know, more recently, the ladies of The Sorority - Toronto has always been a city where female rappers in particular have been incredibly strong in terms of their contributions, lyrical or otherwise. And they've always been supported. 

You know, one of the things that I've loved watching as I've interviewed a lot of architects of the Toronto sound has been the way that male rappers really support female rappers in this city. And just watching that camaraderie is a beautiful thing. And, you know, very specifically when I think about an artist like Eternia, I - one of the things that I really appreciate about her and I certainly tried to model in my work as an academic who's a guest, you know, in Black studies and Hip-hop Studies. In particular, is the way she shows a deeper appreciation for the culture. You know, she always gives artists who set the template, Black artists in particular who set the template, she always gives them their respect and their due and I think she's a great representation of what it means to be a guest in the house of Hip-hop. And it's certainly one of the, she's one of the people that I certainly look to in the culture and try to replicate that way of being.

Zoe
Definitely. And, you know, we have to respect people like her and many others and, you know, recognize that we have this incredible talent pool and these incredible voices right in our own backyard, so to speak. And so, given, you know, what you just said there, and all the work that you've done, both your kind of personal journey and now being a fellow at Jackman, why is it you feel that it's important to bring Hip-hop and to bring the areas of research that you're currently involved in into the academic environment? And how do you think that reframes Hip-hop as a culture? Or does it reframe Hip-hop as a culture within the academy?

Francesca
I think, yeah, I absolutely do think that it reframes Hip-hop, both in the academy, but in in the broader cultural conversation. I think, for me, studying Hip-hop is important for a variety of reasons. I think, you know, first and foremost, it's important to think through the way that artists experience systems of power. You know, because oftentimes, when we think about musicians or you know, celebrities more broadly, we see them as people of privilege. In particular, the way that we imagine celebrities. And I think it's important to remember that they too are experiencing systems of power, particularly when they're so visible in the public eye. 

And so for me, it's been really important to look at Hip-hop culture and think through the ways in which they, the practitioners I should say, have engaged with the culture industry, and how the structures and mechanisms of power within culture industries, whether we're talking about the US or Canada, have supported the art that these practitioners have put forward or fail to support, and have even challenged these artists in terms of their politics and their identities and what that looks like. Because that's often being done in the public eye for us to see. 

I think in particular, in the Canadian context - and one of the reasons you know, that I've been driven to focus on my upcoming work on the music industry, in particular I think historically, when we think about the academic work about the Black music tradition in Canada, so much of the attention in the literature, whether we're thinking about a discipline like history or other fields, such as you know, communications, or music studies even, there has tended to be a focus on rock music in particular. And I think one of the reasons for that is because it tends to be considered a trope of Canadian-ness in a way that other forms of culture have not. 

And so, you know, one of the things that I'm interested in, is thinking about Hip-hop culture. And how studying this community and their contributions to Canadian culture more broadly, can tell us a lot more about the history of broadcasting in this country and the protection strategies that have been used to protect a you know, “Canadian culture”, you know, what exactly does that look like? Especially in the strategies that have been implemented by institutions like the Canadian Radio Television and Telecommunications Commission, which is also known to us as the CRTC. And in particular, strategies, like CanCon, you know. So I'm really trying to think through what CanCon means to the nation. And I think when we look at Black music, in particular in Hip-hop, and Hip-hop especially, what we see is that these protectionist strategies have have failed really to incorporate that important contribution to the country. And they have, those strategies have uniquely affected the work of Black artists and their ability to generate a thriving platform that showcases their artistic contributions.

Zoe
I feel like what you said, it just struck a nerve there so much, because we do look at - we are kind of told in many different ways through you know, dominant culture that classical and rock n’ roll are the things that, you know, define what Canadian culture is. And yet, you're so right about Black voices. I would also add Indigenous voices, obviously, to that, and a really interesting and informative, you know, Hip-hop cultural scene within the Indigenous communities. But that both of those communities, what they're talking about is actually, you know, the alternate or the underlying kind of history of all of Canada, right? 

Franscesca 

Absolutely. 

Zoe 

And the one that you don't get in the textbook. And the one that now at this particular moment in time, there's a lot of push back on like, whose stories are being told? What truths  and you know? And just yeah, it's just really interesting to look at it through the prism of like, Ken Coleman, and through the prism of like CanCon and what culture is promoted and what isn't and what's excluded. 

Francesca
And I think too, you know, what we also need to remember, that’s not specific necessarily to any type of geography, but it's that Hip-hop culture as a whole - and, you know, I look primarily at Rap music - but Hip-hop as a whole is a way to create and project forward a counter narrative. And so, you know, in my early dissertation work, when I was completing my doctorate, I was very interested in thinking through what is the story that Hip-hop tells us about the United States, because my early work was on the US. And when we look at Hip-hop, we start to see the nation in very different ways. We start to see systems of power in different ways because Hip-hop is a story of people who are disempowered at very many intersections, whether we're talking about race, class, gender, sexuality, you know, different geographical spaces. 

And so I think if we incorporate the stories of Hip-hop into larger narratives about broadcasting history, or the Canadian culture industry, what we are going to see are these stories that are exacerbated by different forms of oppression. You know, it's one of the reasons why, you know, in the last month or so we've seen the introduction of groups such as Advance, which is a Black music collective that is trying to address a number of Anti-Black, systemic issues that are in the music industry. And so when we archive the stories of Hip-hop in the broader Canadian culture industry, we will be able to see that this isn't just part of the present or the contemporary moment. This has a historical trajectory dating back, you know, in the Canadian culture industry for many decades. 

And so I think it's important to do that work because so often when we're talking about systems of power in particular relation to Anti-Blackness, there seems to be this continuing narrative that circulates that these are new instances. When in fact those of us who have been studying and for people who have experienced systemic oppression, they will tell you that this is not new at all. And so doing that archival work is really important, too. Educating the public about the long history of Anti-Black racism in Canada. And the way of course it appears with anti-Indigenous racism in the settler colonial context.

Jessica
I'm just here listening to both you and Zoe go at it. [laughter]  

And I think it's a great conversation. Sorry, but I have all these questions to ask. It all sounds just so amazing. And like, the way you're articulating this. It's just bringing it all to, like home. So, Francesca, the question that I have, in particular is around when you mentioned Eternia and you know, we really respect Eternia as well and love working with her. But you talked about how she, you know, recognizes that she's a guest in the space. And I wanted to talk about the kind of the research that you do and entering a space that you necessarily, you know, are not affiliated with, in a sense of being a musician, or you are a musician, but I mean, Hip-hop artists, or being a part of that kind of experience. So I wanted to ask around, like, how that is for you and your position, and the powers that you hold as an academic and being, you know, visibly white, highly educated? How is it for you to navigate these spaces, build trust, and negotiate these relationships to tell the stories of the people that you are interacting with?

Francesca
That's a great question. I think - so when I began doing my doctoral research, which was primarily focused on the ways in which rappers articulated their identities. So not just being musicians, of course, but also, you know, my full focus of my research was really on Black rappers in particular, and those who identified with urban spaces and working class identities in particular, and working poor identities. And so one of the ways in which I try to address, you know, the fact of course that I am not American, you know, first and foremost - I, as a visibly white person, I do not share the Black experience, you know, certainly not the Black American experience. And so, I think one of the most important things to do as a researcher who may be an insider, in some ways - you know, the fact that I'm a musician - but you know, I am an outsider in a lot of other ways. 

And so one of the important ways to rectify or address this head on for me was to always center the voices of the artist. And so their voices, whether it was in interviews, whether it was in the music, whether it was in various other archival sources, was to put their voices front and center and to recognize that as an academic, you are also always collaborating. You, as a historian, I should say, you're always collaborating with those in your study. And so I wanted to center their voices. But I also wanted to do a lot of listening. And I think in general, that's how we can move beyond, you know, outside of the Academy. 

I think that's one of the important elements of being part of any social movement. You know you have to know when to speak, and you have to know when to sit down and listen. And so a lot of my work, of course, centers around recordings, and I had to do a lot of listening. I spent a year and a half just doing archival work, listening to records between you know, the mid 1970s through to the mid 1990s. And just listening to what the artists were saying, what were their central concerns? How are they articulating themselves? What exactly were they articulating? You know, what were the social and political ideologies that emerged from that work? And what I found was that through their voices, rappers were using culture and Hip-hop culture, in particular, as a politically useful battleground to unmask persistent forms of coloniality in the afterlife of American slavery. 

And so I wanted to think about Hip-hop culture, not just in the moment of the late 20th century, but I wanted to think about how these artists were part of a long Black music tradition that connected back to the period of enslavement because I saw that there were patterns that were beginning to emerge, in terms of what they were saying, and how their commentary was connected to the commentary of their musical predecessors. And what I found was that as rappers began to embolden their consciousness in a variety of formats, whether it was about class and capitalism, or gender representation, or the life that they were experiencing as a racialized person in the United States - I found that Rap became a place where they were able as artists to transform dispositions of power by narrating to the American public through Rap music, in particular, that Blackness in the United States had been continuously framed in discourse as terrifying. Even while at the same time, Black people and Black communities broadly, were continuously subjected to not just racism, I, you know, in my work, I call it Anti-Black terrorism in the form of things such as police brutality, or vigilante violence that is enacted, you know, in communities, for example, between neighbors, as you know, as an example. 

And so in my work, I looked at how Rap music became a form of expression where Black artists who, you know, were not politicians, and you know, capital P politics, but where they can vocalize their demands about any number of issues, but also rupture dehumanizing discourses that had existed of Blackness prior to the late 20th century. And not just in that contemporary moment. And also, in doing so, reveal abuse of systems of power, and ultimately undermine prevalent myths that existed in the late 20th century about America being a nation that is colorblind - which, of course, you know, being that we're in the 21st century we know has continued, in terms of a practice. And so in my work, I begin by looking at how Hip-hop culture was initially constituted in terms of race, gender, and class identities. And then I proceed to think about how Hip-hop fared once local, state and federal governments responded to the various critiques that were coming out of Hip-hop culture, whether it was their reflections on mass incarceration and the war on drugs, or other issues, such as Anti-Black policing practices, strategies used in electoral politics, the way that the education system is shaped and how it impacts young Black people. And of course, capitalism and what impact it has in terms of the way that urban spaces are constituted, and the experiences of being poor in particular.

Jessica
Wow. So what what I'm hearing is like, yeah, it's really a collaborative and reflective process with researching and working with the artists that are included in this research, and what comes out of it. I wanted to also just ask, and, you know, when you're doing this, what is the hope out of the research? Is that like established at the beginning with those that you collaborate with, or those who are part of doing this research what the hope of whatever is being created, what it's for, or what will come out of it?

Francesca
I think that changes over the course of your research. You certainly have ideas about what you're hoping to achieve. But I think you know, primarily as a historian, we use the archive, you know, the power of the archive. And for me, part of my work also challenges the notion of the archives. Because in a lot of ways, the archive is shaped by colonial thinking and practices. And I wanted to think beyond the archive, beyond these institutional spaces that I think a lot of times, don't properly capture the voices of everyone in any given society. And so for me, I was using items that have yet to be archived, in part, because I'm doing a living history. 

So whether it was interviewing the actual artists, listening to their music, watching recorded performances, you know, reading their liner notes. I watched a lot of congressional hearings, you know, because I was thinking about the way that Rap was taken up at different levels of government. I think that over the course of my research, my hopes for the project changed in important ways. But I think once I reached the end point of the doctoral process, for me, there were really three things that I hoped people would take away from the research, I think. 

First, it was really important for me to highlight, through my work, the role of culture in the lives of young people because I think oftentimes, we forget that Hip-hop, the architects of Hip-hop, were teenagers. They were kids. And so one of the takeaway points is that Hip-hop became a powerful tool for young people who often in society, we tend not to listen to young people. We tend to discount their thinking, their observations, the way that they're taking the world in. And so for me, I wanted to really respect the knowledge of young people and the ways in which they use Hip-hop to critically analyze and in effect respond to systems of power that were really crushing them in the late 20th century. 

I think the second thing for me was that I really wanted to create a piece of work that presented nuanced readings of Hip-hop beyond what tends to happen in public discourse - which is that Hip-hop is often characterized as an art form that promotes violence and substance abuse and narrow representations of gender and sexuality. And I really wanted to create a piece that helps readers understand the nuances of Hip-hop. And not just the nuances but to treat the form with respect because I think Hip-hop culture has contributed a tremendous amount, not just to the United States, or to North America, but globally as well. 

And I think the third and perhaps for me, the most important point that I wanted to come across in my work was that I wanted people who are reading to understand is that rappers are knowledge producers. They are public intellectuals and they are entrepreneurs. And I think throughout the history of Hip-hop culture, whether we're talking about in the United States or elsewhere, these young people have time and time again demonstrated to the public their acute ability to think critically about the world that they inhabit. They have the ability to contextualize their experiences within much longer histories of race and power in particular. And I think in a lot of ways, Hip-hop offers us, not of course in all forms of Hip-hop, but certainly in a number of forms of Hip-hop or sub genres, it offers us a way to think forward about the societies that we live in and strategies that we can use to unravel, and when Hip-hop is at its very best, strategies to decolonize our current conditions. And I think that certainly applies to the U.S. as well as in other places across the globe.

Zoe
I think um, that is such a, as we pretty much near the top of the hour here, that is such a kind of beautiful and hopeful message because that was kind of going to be my closing comments, last question to you about what is kind of like the - where is the hope in Hip-hop? And how, what do you think it can aspire to, particularly in this really challenging, you know, moment and when there's a lot of community trauma that is coming up and death and injustice and all kinds of stuff. So I think looking and positioning Canadian Hip-hop, Hip-hop writ large, and the people that are producing it as kind of knowledge keepers and cultural producers, as you just said, is really - it's not something that we often think about. We think about what those kind of, you know, high artistic practices that are from a European perspective that we've been told, like, these are the only things that are of value, right. And so as you said, sort of time and time again, I think Hip-hop has shown that it can produce a more informed and a more true reflection of what is going on and a true a count of history. So there's that kind of counter narrative, but it's also the best teacher about how to continue this decolonizing work.

Francesca
Absolutely. I think especially in the contemporary moment, in terms of a number of our social justice concerns, I think Hip-hop is as much, you know, political commentator, as it is historian and that's why I find it such an interesting form. I think, in the current moment, with all that we're facing, Hip-hop, at least as I've seen, you know, when I've been looking at some of the musical contributions across 20, you know, the year 2020 – I've really been thinking about, you know, what are the benefits that we can draw from Hip-hop? You know, what does it teach us? What can we draw from it, whether we're in the academy or not? Because I think it teaches everyone in unique ways. 

But for me, you know, some of the things I've been thinking about is that I think one of the things that Hip-hop does is it continuously throughout its history has always connected the contemporary to the historical. You know, this is the way it is, a historian. So if I think about, you know, and I'm going to use some examples in hopes that also it will draw people to listen to these great recordings. But if I think about songs like 8:46 by Mr. Lif, who's associated with Eternia, but Mr. Lif and Stu Bangas - I think about how, you know, obviously, when you look at the title of the song, it's gesturing to the murder of George Floyd at the hands of police. But I think what the song also does for listeners is that it historicizes for listeners the ongoing dehumanization, incarceration, and brutalization of Black people in the United States at the hands of police and people in power, and contextualize it within a much longer history of enslavement and segregation. 

I think also in its function, as a historian, Hip-hop also helps young people who are on the ground, you know, as activists or wherever they find themselves being socially engaged. It also teaches young people and society more broadly, about its connection to a much longer Black liberation struggle. So if we think about a song like Black Thought’s recent release, Thought vs Everybody - he helps listeners think about the different ideologies in Hip-hop and how they're connected to a much longer Black freedom movement, and more broadly, the Black radical tradition. So you know, the song has interspersed speech recordings from people like Marcus Garvey, who led the Pan Africanist movement, Black Panther Huey Newton, other folks like Amiri Baraka of the Black Arts Movement, Khalid Muhammad of the Nation of Islam, or, you know, literary giant, James Baldwin, and even prison abolitionist, Angela Davis, who, of course, has been in the news talking about abolishing the police or certainly cutting back their funding. 

But also, I think one of the things that Hip-hop has done in this particular moment is contextualize the uniqueness of 2020. So I think about, you know, because there have been many historical moments where we have seen similar instances of police brutality, but society has not always reacted in the way that they have reacted in 2020. So I think about songs like Lockdown by Anderson .Paak. And in that recording he talks a lot about the response of people, you know, protesters who are reacting, of course, to instances of police brutality. But what it means to do that in this unique moment of COVID-19. And I think, you know, one of the things that comes across in the song is that he's saying this is a moment of pause. And it's made people reflect on the brutality of policing in a way probably that they have not done for a long period of time, in terms of different cross sections of people. And they've done so in a way that thinks about Anti-Black policing alongside existing issues such as poverty, unemployment, and health disparities. You know, all of which have been exacerbated by the pandemic. 

But I think perhaps one of the most hopeful and yet still, you know, classic Hip-hop styles, critical ways of thinking that Hip-hop has continued to introduce to us in 2020 is to think critically about electoral politics and the role that that can play in transforming society, especially as the U.S. moves towards their upcoming federal elections. So I think about, you know, one of my favorite artists at the moment is Locksmith, who some people may not know, but he comes out of California. And so I think about a song like his recent release called Black Holocaust, or even, you know, one of my favorite groups, Public Enemy, who recently released a song called State of the Union. And when I think about these two songs in conversation, I think about how Hip-hop can also help us bring about a call to action to take electoral politics seriously and to consider the role that citizens can play in overturning structures of power. I think so often people think that their voices are not heard, and that there are avenues where their voices can be heard. 

And so songs like these help us think about the power of the vote, in particular, in the United States to cast out the current occupier, who, you know, who I will not name of the White House. You know, who I think Public Enemy, rightly, you know, frames him as a dictator and a fascist who should be feared in terms of what he has done in the US during the course of his presidency, but also the potentials of what he could do if re-elected to a second term. But what I think about the Locksmith song in particular, I also find it fascinating, you know, that while they're talking about electoral politics and what voting can do, Locksmith also articulates a very real and long-standing distrust that racialized communities, not just the United States, but in other places as well, have had in terms of the relationship to the political system. Which he argues have continually failed to respond to the needs and demands of Black people. And so while he's certainly talking about electoral politics, he's also asking the public to consider the complexities of voting. And to be critical of both sides, you know, if especially in the United States where you know, so much of the conversation is about Republicans and Democrats, or Liberals and Conservatives. And he's certainly asking people to be critical, even of the Liberals, and especially Neo-liberals, who in a political campaign all tend to mobilize race in the conversation, in part to generate or recruit voters to the fold. And so he asks people to even think critically about whether those intentions are genuine or disingenuous. And to use that knowledge to press the candidates to speak to them in a genuine way. And ask them about what they need, and then to mobilize in that way to do that work for the communities that are putting them in office. 

So I think in 2020, Hip-hop is doing a lot of things for us. It's not just helping us learn about the contemporary. But it's also reminding us that this is a cyclical and continuous pattern, you know. The things that we're seeing before us, and that we need to always be critical, we need to question the society we're living in. And a lot of that involves taking pause and being reflective, which I think happens so often in the context of Hip-hop culture. And one of the reasons that as someone who loves Hip-hop and Rap music in particular, I'm so grateful for the artists that do that work.

Zoe
I know in our last, one of our last conversations, you and I and Jessica had, we were talking a bit about basketball and the Vince Carter effect and Hip-hop and what the kind of convergence of like his rise and basketball and many of the Canadian Hip-hop artists as well as some U.S. artists that all of a sudden started to kind of take note of Toronto at that time. And I'm reminded of that, again, with the work that the NBA is doing around electoral reform, and how vocal they're being about that, the players, not the NBA as an association. But really important that that's one thing that bubbled up and then just another quick thing was just I love how this is obviously a moment for reflection and a moment for pause for all of us. And you're right in that the racial injustices and the murders and police brutality and all of that that has come to light is also being now looked at through the lens of all these other disparities, as you pointed out. You know, class and race and ethnicity and everything else is being looked at. So it's a, I think, quite a unique moment. 

And my last comment to what you said was just kind of recognizing that for whatever reason, you know, at this moment, I feel like there is, a lot of people are drawing for a lot of the elder statesman voices of the Black Power movement. And you went through a few like Marcus Garvey. Recently, Angela Davis. Amiri Baraka, et cetera, and James Baldwin, and I think it's great that there is this both in education and a renaissance of those voices for new and like up and coming generations of people that are just kind of trying to understand this space that we’re in. That throw in a Langston Hughes and all kinds of other people that, you know, we could spend all day on those. So but I think it's great that they, they are getting kind of a second look. And it's hard. It's hard. You know, I feel hopeful when I see that, but I also feel very frustrated, because a lot of them are talking about things that were happening in their time, and we're talking about the same things, but on that note, I'll just ask Jess if you have any closing comments, before we wrap up?

Jessica
Francesca, it's always great speaking with you. I think, you know, especially when you were talking about the power of Hip-hop in education, I think there's still a lot more that needs to be done in that regard as legitimizing Hip-hop as a, you know, as something in the classroom, as a tool for engagement and self expression. And I think we see that in the work that we're trying to do here, but across the board I know even as a Hip-hop scholar, for yourself, I could assume that there, there's also barriers within that. Just the study of Hip-hop at the academic level in the PhD program, and some of the resistance and barriers there. So I think overall, like just Hip-hop in education is still something to continue to kind of - it's almost like you have to prove it and legitimize it because there's a lot of pushback against it. Thank you for sharing all of these songs that some of them I've never heard of. Yeah, so great conversation. So -

Braeden
Could I ask a question? Is there time? Um, I think when a lot of us think of a historian, we just think of someone who exclusively deals in the past. But who better to look forward than someone who's well versed in the past. And so I'm curious, what are some things that you're seeing or noticing about, or like shifts or trends that are emerging in Hip-hop specifically in Canada?

Francesca
Well, I think one of the songs actually that I was recently listening to is a song by an artist named TOBi, who I believe comes out of Brampton, if I'm correct. And it is a song called 24 Toronto Remix. And it features a number of Canadian artists - Shad, Jazz Cartier, and Haviah Mighty, who I think is one of the most powerful Toronto artists that we have right now. And I think one of the things that this song for me highlights is the shift, not just in Hip-hop, but in the general cultural conversation that we're having in Canada, is that these artists, and of course, you know, Hip-hop has been talking about structural oppression in relation to policing for a very long time, even when we're thinking about our Canadian artists, right? But this song in particular, I think what it does is it reminds the Canadian public, that Anti-Black policing is not merely an American issue. And I think this is a really important shift, especially as we're hearing you know, calls to defund the Toronto Police Services. 

Because I think so often when we tend to talk about race and oppression, and, you know, various disparities that are impacted, or are an outcome of racial disparities, I think so often we tend to think of that as an American problem, you know, and that we're the good neighbors to the north. That tends to be the prevalent master narrative or discourse. And through recordings like this, I think, Rap artists in particular, challenge the public again to think very critically about the way that Canada constitutes itself, both inside of its borders and projects itself internationally as a country that apparently does not have racial problems. Which, you know, is not true whether we study the history of Canada, or not. So we know this has certainly not been the case, historically. 

The fact of the matter is, is that race continues to trouble Canada into the present day. And so these artists, I think, really put that conversation back on the table and force the Canadian public to treat this conversation seriously. And I think, in the Canadian context, this is a really important shift in the cultural conversation, because so often, you know, whether we're talking about in Canadian classrooms or in political discourse, there is a failure to really think critically about the ways that Canada treats racialized populations, whether we're talking about Black communities across the country, or in Indigenous communities as well. And to really think about Canada as a settler colonial nation. And this is the work I think that Canadian Hip-hop artists continue to do so powerfully. And in the larger context of Hip-hop, I think, really presses us to think about how all of these moments are connected to historical practices that continue to cycle moving forward. 

That said, I think that one of the things that has been so interesting to watch is to see the cross section of people who are coming into the fold. Who are deciding for themselves that they are committed to learning and understanding the issues and to doing something about that. And I think, you know, as an educator, one of the things that I often say to my students is that I don't like to punish people for not being in the conversation. But I do, once they are part of the conversation, I think it's important to honor the stage where every, you know, the stage in which everybody is at. Whether it's taking a class, reading a book, walking in the streets, you know, being part of an organization. However you find yourself involved and committed to the various social justice issues that are of concern to you. 

I think that as a society, we all have to work in our different lanes. And our contributions as a result will be different. But the more pressure that we collectively put on these systems that have power, the closer we'll get. And of course, it's incremental. That's one of the things that history teaches us - that change is always happening. Sometimes it's at a slower pace than we would like. But these incremental changes are going to move us closer to the world that we want to inhabit, if we're lucky to see that world. And, you know, some days, I'm a little, I'm a little less sure if that will happen in my lifetime. But I certainly know that with continuous work, I hope to leave this world in a better condition than which I arrived in it. And I think that's a goal that we should all be collectively striving towards. 

Thank you for the question. It was - thank you for all these questions. I'm so happy to spend time with you all. Really. I think that Hart House is doing a lot of great work around Hip-hop in particular and Hip-hop education. And, you know, kind of off of some of the comments, the closing comments that you all made, even though it has for so many people who do Hip-hop studies, it's been a struggle for us to legitimize our work in the academy, I think that we stand on the shoulders of a lot of academics before us. I think about people like Tricia Rose, Mark Anthony Neal, for example, all of whom have done, you know - and even here in Canada, Mark Campbell, Rinaldo Walcott - all of whom have done really important work, to create a space for those of us in these current generations of scholars who are committed to Hip-hop and legitimizing it as the source of knowledge. 

And you know, and we continue to do the same for people who will follow after us. So I think the path for hip, the path for Hip-hop cities is great. We just have to keep going. And I think the work that you all are doing it at Hart House is really important to legitimizing the study of Hip-hop and the role that it plays in the lives of the students that were committed to the role that it plays in their lives. And what it can teach us in the academy, because I think we can glean so much from Hip-hop, you know, whether it's talking about Rap music, or breakdancing, whatever the form is, there's so much that it gives us and so there's so much more to do. So thank you all for speaking with me today. I appreciate you.

Jessica
Thank you to our guests, Dr. Francesca D'Amico-Cuthbert. Thank you to my co-host Zoe Dille. Thank you Braeden and Day for helping produce the show. And most of all, thanks to you, our listeners. We'd love to hear from you. You can find us on Instagram @HartHouseStories. You can also find more information around the Hip-hop Education events for the academic year at harthouse.ca or on social media @harthouseuoft. We're here every Saturday at 7am on CiUT 89.5 FM and we post all of our episodes under Hart House Stories on SoundCloud. Our intro outro music was composed by Dan Driscoll. I’m Jessica Rayne signing off as your host for today. Thanks for listening and we'll see you next week.