#GraffitiGrrlz Update!

Phew! What a whirlwind week…I’m writing with a couple quick updates:

First: #GraffitiGrrlz received it’s first academic book review in TDR: journal of performance studies penned by Indigenous Hip Hop Studies scholar Jenell Navarro! You can read the full review here!

“Graffiti Grrlz introduces readers to a history of women #graffiti writers who have not been afforded representation in #hiphop studies or #feminist studies by foregrounding their own agency and voice.”

Second: My local arts and wellness organization is running a really great workshop for girls! And it is just so humbling when your work gets picked up and utilized by local activists. I feel seen and am glad these #graffitigrrlz do too! “Future ‘Graffiti Grrlz’ Workshop” hosted by @opositivefest on 3/15 for #WomensHistoryMonth!

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Facebook Event Page: https://www.facebook.com/events/2640109336268558/

Last, but so not least, is an announcement that through March 31st 2020, @NYUpress is celebrating #WomensHistoryMonth with an eBook sale and #GraffitiGrrlz is only $1.99!!! The eBook has COLOR images, DO IT!

Keep Public Art Public!

I wrote my first letter to the editor!

Dear Editor:

Kingston Mayor Steve Noble’s “Art in Public” policy proposal claims to encourage artists to “create artwork that engages with the public,” but the regulatory policy discourages community engagement and censors public art through unnecessary bureaucracies.

Last October, I facilitated the “Art in Public” panel at the O+ Festival, focusing on the question: Who owns public space? When we read the mayor’s proposal with eyes attuned to this question, it’s clear that access, voice and freedom of expression are absent. There are no clear qualifications, representation stipulations or placement processes listed for the five appointees. The application process includes a $25 fee, permits and site approvals (additional fees?), along with a potential 30-day period for approval/rejection. There is no information about the monthly panel meetings (day/night? child care? open/closed to public?). It states that determinations “will not be made based on content,” but provides no criteria.

What about those who can’t afford the process, the leisure time, or the child care required to present their proposal in person upon appeal? Will they be criminalized for gifting the city their art (attracting tourists and boosting our local economy)? And what of the O+ organizers who have spent a decade building relationships with community members, ensuring that wall space is equitably distributed, which is particularly important for marginalized and underrepresented mural artists?

The proposed policy fits neatly with other efforts by our local government to privatize public space (e.g. the $10 million in revitalization funds benefiting The Kingstonian).

Kingston residents should oppose the policy proposal unequivocally.

Link!

Black and Highly Dangerous Podcast

Now this was a fun and engaging interview!

Please check out: Episode 68: Graffiti Grrlz w/ Dr. Jessica Pabón-Colón

For today’s episode, we focus on a unique exploration of a population that typically goes unnoticed – women in graffiti. Specifically, we interview Dr. Jessica Pabón-Colón, an a

Assistant Professor of Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies at SUNY New Paltz, about her book— Graffiti Grrlz: Performing Feminism in the Hip Hop Diaspora. We begin by learning more about Dr. Pabón-Colón (20:40) and the motivation behind her research (23:05). We also discuss the importance of understanding feminism as a verb (26:15), explore her concept of feminist masculinity (28:05), and delve into her experience of studying women in the graffiti art world (35:08).  Next, we have a conversation about heterosexism in the graffiti art world (47:00), characteristics of Hip Hop Graffiti art (55:35), and the language of graffiti art (1:03:17). We close by discussing the #FeministsforPuertoRico campaign (1:11:24).

Other Topics Include:

00:30 – Catch up with Ty and Daphne

03:45 – BhD “Oh Lawd” News

18:22 – Introduction of the Topic

1:20:45 – Ty and Daphne Reflect on the Interview

Resources:

Ideas on Fire Podcast Interview

My interview with Ideas on Fire is live! The episode is available in Apple Podcasts (iOS), Google Podcasts (Android), Spotify, YouTube, Soundcloud, and all the other podcast players.

We chatted about

  • my book Graffiti Grrlz: Performing Feminism in the Hip Hop Diaspora (02:13)
  • The future of feminist graffiti art (05:10)
  • The intersection of art, academia, and activism in Jessica’s work (10:14)
  • Curation as a social justice project (12:22)
  • Resisting academia’s hyper-productivity culture (16:01)
  • Imagining Otherwise (18:56)

The transcript and show notes can be found here:
https://ideasonfire.net/82-jessica-nydia-pabon-colon

The show notes contain links to all my projects, as well as the books, people, and concepts discussed in the episode (which is super helpful for teaching!). Give it a listen and let me know what you think. #graffitigrrlz

#GraffitiGrrlz Book Review!

Throughout the book they challenge graffiti being Hip Hop and fail to call themselves feminists. However this disjunct leads Pabón-Colón to much more nuanced understandings. So, for instance, towards the end of the book she discusses why the South American ‘graffiteras’ reject the feminist label. This could have haughtily been put down to their own ignorance but instead Pabón-Colón concludes that this is a failure of Western feminists to “make room for truly alternative performances of feminism, despite years of scholarship and activism demanding that very thing.

T_C, 2019

I just finished reading the latest book review of Graffiti Grrlz—”Framing a Counter-Narrative”—and it’s so wonderful to be seen and understood!

Thank you to T_C over at Graffiti Review!

Indelible in Our Collective Hippocampus is Her Testimony: Performing Feminism after Kavanaugh’s Confirmation

On Saturday October 6th I was scheduled to moderate a panel on “Art in Public” for the O+ Festival during the same timeframe that the Senate was expected to confirm the sexual predator Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court (and of course, they did). Anticipating coming out of the panel to the heartbreaking—but not surprising—news that the GOP majority voted to uphold Kavanaugh’s white Christian heterosexual cismale privilege, I posted on Twitter and Facebook asking if anyone wanted to join me for a primal scream after the panel. No one replied, but I screamed in my car anyway. I drove home feeling rage and despair, only finding comfort by drawing on the conversation I had earlier with panelists JESS X SNOW and Tani Ikeda about their Survivor Love Letter mural (painted by JESS and Layqa Nuna Yawar). Painted on the front of the Family of Woodstock Shelter in Kingston, NY., the mural celebrates survivors and actively supports collective healing in the face of continual injustice, oppression, violence, and silence.

About two weeks after (in)Justice Kavanaugh’s confirmation to the Supreme Court, excerpts of Blasey Ford’s testimony appeared on every one of my social media feeds. Her words were spray-painted on the ground, the walls, and the doors of Kavanaugh’s alma mater, Yale University. They read: “INDELIBLE IN THE HIPPOCAMPUS IS THE LAUGHTER;” “I THOUGHT THAT BRETT WAS ACCIDENTALLY GOING TO KILL ME”; “I HAVE HAD TO RELIVE MY TRAUMA IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE WORLD.” The quotes were complemented by posters covering bulletin boards that proclaimed “YALE IS COMPLICIT” in a purposefully alarming shade of red. The white block letters appearing at the law school’s main entrance, on the Lawrance Hall doors, and on the sign of Sprague Hall re-awakened a rage in me that was so powerful it made my stomach hurt. I can’t imagine what it was like for Yale students, faculty, and staff to experience them firsthand before they were removed. For us—the spectators who shouted we #BelieveSurvivors in an attempt to block his confirmation—Blasey Ford’s words are what remains indelible in our collective hippocampus.

Just a few days after those images circulated (and oh, how I shared them), “Lilith” reached out to me. Here they were: the street artists responsible for spray painting Blasey Ford’s words into the visual public sphere and refusing to let Kavanaugh’s crimes be forgotten with the next segment of breaking news.

Lilith’s act of rebellion is a visual version of the emotions we’ve seen survivors and their accomplices express in sonic (primal scream), metaphysical (hexing him), and political form (getting arrested). The incentive behind writing your name on a wall is to communicate and validate your existence: it is a declaration of presence—“I AM HERE.” It is the projection of self in the face of continual social and political erasure. In my book, Graffiti Grrlz: Performing Feminism in the Hip Hop Diaspora (2018), I argue that we can trace performances of feminism in the writing on the wall. I ask readers to conceptualize feminism as a verb so we can ask: what does it do? In the case of Hip Hop graffiti—where the writing on the wall is usually a tag name—the feminist “politic” is not as evident as it is in this act, where the quotes from Blasey Ford’s testimony trigger a recognition of the power relations that enabled a sexual predator to be nominated (by another sexual predator) and confirmed. And yet, the same questions that I use in the book to understand how feminism emerges through the writing on the wall can be applied: does it foster empowerment, does it cultivate community, does it promote social justice, does it assert presence in public space, does it restore bodily agency?

The answer is a resounding: YES.

Here, the writing was done to mark the presence of Blasey Ford in her absence, in her erasure. Lilith’s anonymity lets us imagine the act was done for us, and could’ve been done by any of us. The crucial aspect of #MeToo as a social media utterance is not found only in the “me,” but critically in the “too.” If we, as a collective, take an active hand (in whichever way we can) in asserting our presence they cannot erase us, minimize our pain, steal our power, or rationalize our subordination.

On behalf of all survivors, I want to say thank you to Lilith. Because though their act was on behalf of others, only they risked the legal repercussions of painting outside the lines of socially acceptable behavior.

Jessica: Have you ever done street art before? Do you think of yourself as a street artist?

Lilith: Yes, we’ve been involved with street art before, but this is our first foray into graffiti as anti-patriarchal activism.

Jessica: How did the idea to spray paint her words come about?

Lilith:  The thought to do something along these lines occurred a few days before Kavanaugh’s hearing when Mitch the bitch McConnell claimed that the ‘Blasey-Ford situation’–Republicans hold Ford accountable instead of Kavanaugh–would “blow over” within a couple of months. Like so many other sexual assaults, they occur and then are seemingly forgotten about by everyone but the survivor–we won’t let that happen. Thank you Mitch for inciting this visual riot.

Jessica: What ties you to Blasey Ford?

Lilith: “Dr. King’s policy was that nonviolence would achieve the gains for black people in the United States. His major assumption was that if you are nonviolent, if you suffer, your opponent will see your suffering and will be moved to change his heart. That’s very good. He only made one fallacious assumption: In order for nonviolence to work, your opponent must have a conscience. The United States has none.”* Yale has none. We believe it is impossible to be conscious of the violence on campus, in our bedrooms, and in our learning and commit to only ‘permitted’ actions against the university that accommodates and profits directly from violence—from reproducing and reinforcing an elite class to exploiting the city of New Haven every day.

Jessica: What is the significance of the three locations?

Lilith: Our locations are significant simply because they are on Yale University’s campus- every inch is complicit.

Jessica: Did you also do the “Yale is Complicit” signs? They both appeared Monday morning: was it a coordinated effort?

Lilith: Yeah, what do you think?**

Jessica: Why did you do it, knowing the risks for being charged with vandalism? Why was it important to go beyond the sit ins, the bulletin boards, and the posters on the walls?

Lilith: The elitist bullshit that Yale shoves down the throats of both their students and New Haven Residents is atrocious. Yale actively works to silence survivors and shame them out of coming forward. 154 cases of sexual misconduct were brought forth to the Provost at Yale last semester, and we all know there are probably three times as many cases that are unreported. Yale’s sexual misconduct policies encourage silence by setting the terms of justice and systematically let abusers off the hook after re-victimizing survivors. Under Yale’s “court of law”,  legacy students, “prodigies”, and their faculty remain unscathed by accusations of sexual misconduct, shielded by the University. Yale knows what they are doing and can very easily put an end to it but won’t because of the money to be made off of rapist alumni. We know that Yale’s administration has no conscience, but we know that students and the public do. They will continue the fight as they have done throughout history to put an end to unjust sexual misconduct policies across Yale and begin to dismantle the institutions that continue to give rapists and sexual assailants advances, credibility, and authority.

Jessica: You’ve generated a great deal of buzz, what’s that like for you?

Lilith: The response we received wasn’t expected but it isn’t unwelcome. We hope that those who write about our protest focus on the contexts of quotes and call out decision-makers by name. Their silence completes the damage of violence by closing cases and conversations that must continue to reform our institutions and society.

Jessica: How do you see your action tied to the other instances of feminist resistance to Kavanaugh’s nomination and eventual confirmation?

Lilith: This is a fight fought on many fronts. We are just trying to do our best with the battle we are a part of. Eventually, with pressure from all sides, the titan will fall.

Jessica: Did you have a goal in mind and did you meet that goal?

Lilith: Our goal was to wake people up with our first drop, and we aim to continue to do that.

Jessica: Is there anything you want to share that I haven’t asked? Anything you want to be absolutely clear about in the reception of your work?

Lilith: Yale creates rapists. It creates them, puts them into power, and protects them. So it’s not inconsistent for Brett Kavanaugh to be a rapist, it’s actually entirely consistent with the interests of reproducing the ruling class. His confirmation to the Supreme Court reflects the power that Yale’s accreditation has. Mitch McConnell is counting on all of us to move on, but we won’t stop until we dismantle Yale brick by brick.

*Editor’s note: this quote is by civil rights warrior and Black Power philosopher Stokely Carmichael aka Kwame Ture.

**Love the posters. Love all of it.

After this went live, Lilith sent me NEW PHOTOS:

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When the Grrlz show Me Love!

This will be quick. I had to put my beloved 18 year old cat to sleep on Saturday, so I have been in a very sad place. Then today, I was tagged in a Facebook post by the Girls on Top. And instead of sad tears, I got to shed some happy ones. ❤ They stenciled my name in one of the letters alongside some feminist greats. I am not worthy, but I appreciate and accept the show of love.

Here is there post (pictures after the text):

G.O.T Crew were invited to Reading On Thames Festival, we were asked produce a 25 metre mural with a selection of local youth groups to mark the 100 Years of Suffrage centenary (100 years since the Representation of the People Act was passed in Britain, giving (some) women the right to vote.)

We chose to write the words ‘WE GO ON’, and for the people taking part to fill them with names of people who they wanted to pay homage and tribute to- those who they felt represented what the Suffragettes stood for. Some were from women in the past, who had to endure suffering and a constant fight to win us the freedoms we enjoy today.

The other names were local people, or people in our lives now, who have inspired this generation and who continue to embody a message of community.

The images and quotes surrounding the words were also chosen by the people taking part.

‘She’ said “It was inspirational to work alongside these young people who expect and embody equality, and are building a future which is united”

The mural, the names, the portraits, will be varnished, and will remain there for a long long time.

‘Pixie’ found a poem from the film Suffragette which she would like to share:

“The woman wanderer goes forth to seek the land of freedom.

“How am I to get there?”

Reason answers:

“There is one way and one way only- down the banks of labour, through the waters of suffering. There is no other.”

The woman, having disgarded all to which she’d formally clung to cries out:

“For what do I go to this far land which no-one has ever reached?”

and reason said to her ” Silence. What do you hear?”

and she said “I hear the sound of feet, a thousand times, and they beat this way. They are feet of those that shall follow you. LEAD ON.”

‘Weardoe’ an artist who came in and led the workshop with us said “As a British Sikh female graffiti artist, representing the graffiti scene with the energy of the Suffragettes is more than a dream, it’s an honour, and Sophia Duleep Singh has been a personal influence as I have always tried to embody love and courage through my art. The sisterhood they represented is very much what I feel the world needs today. I think we are revolving”

‘Pixie’, ‘She’ and ‘Weardoe’ would like to thank the Reading On Thames festival, Reading Boro Council, Katesgrove Neighbourhood association, ACRE, Rough Diamonds Youth Group, John Madejski Academy, the ‘In Place of War’ organisation and The Hook and Tackle Pub for this amazing weekend. Also thanks to Sam McMahon (http://kiwimcmc.co.vu/), Tim Wilson, and Pulse Audio.

We learnt a lot in such a short space of time, and were glad to have the opportunity to create a mural that meant something so close to all of our hearts.

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“Rap is Art” Hip Hop Reading List

Since the article “Rap Is Art. So Why Do Some Academics Still Feel as if They Have to Defend It?” by Teghan Simonton went live on The Chronicle, I’ve had many requests for access to the suggested reading that I offered my colleagues at SUNY New Paltz in the wake of Gerald Banjamin’s racialized comments about rap music, the representative ability of Democratic candidate Antonio Delgado, and NY’s 19th district’s constituents.

I’ve been directing interested people to the blog for my Gender and Sexuality in Hip Hop course where students explore Hip Hop Culture’s history, aesthetics, and politics in relation to gender and sexuality from an intersectional feminist perspective, but I thought it would be better to offer the list with full citations and not just selections, so here we are (see below).

In the wake of the online conversations I’m seeing that take up the question of rap as art, or rap as music, I’ve been thinking a lot about a moment in the introduction to one of (if not the) the germinal and must-read books for the study of Hip Hop: Black Noise: Rap Music and Black culture in Contemporary America (1994). In it, author Tricia Rose writes:

When I arrived at the American Studies Program at Brown University, I was fully committed to writing my doctoral thesis on rap music. Even though the faculty thought it was a quirky idea, they didn’t discourage it. What worried them was that rap would disappear before I finished my research, I wouldn’t have enough material to write about, and I might be unremarkable job candidate.

The field of Hip Hop Studies emerged because Rose (thankfully) followed her desires, her instincts, and refused to be dissuaded by such worries. Rap music is one of the most popular musical genres in the US, surpassing rock, and arguably one of the most widespread on a global scale. Any claim that Hip Hop is somehow less than “culture,” or that rap is less than music, clings too tightly to a bourgeois Eurocentric notion of “high art” long since proven as a means to sustain racialized socioeconomic divides. And we’re not here for that.

Now, since we are in the age of the online (collectively) built “syllabus” (the Lemonade Syllabus, Pulse Orlando Syllabus, Puerto Rico Syllabus come to mind), I offer you a beginning for what we might call the “Hip Hop Art syllabus?”  I hope those of you new to this field enjoy your learning journey.

  • Banks, Daniel. 2011. Say Word!: Voices from Hip Hop Theater. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.
  • Basu, Dipannita. 2006. The Vinyl Ain’t Final: Hip-Hop and the Globalisation of Black Popular Culture. London: Pluto Press.
  • Castillo-Garsow, Melissa, ed. 2016. La Verdad: An International Dialogue on Hip Hop Latinidades. Ohio State University Press.
  • Chang, Jeff. 2005. Can’t Stop Won’t Stop: A History of the Hip-Hop Generation. New York: Picador.
  • ———. 2006. Total Chaos: The Art and Aesthetics of Hip-Hop. New York: Basic Civitas Books.
  • Clay, Andreana. 2008. “‘Like an Old Soul Record’: Black Feminism, Queer Sexuality, and the Hip-Hop Generation.” Meridians, no. 1: 53. https://doi.org/10.2307/40338911.
  • Condry, Ian. 2006. Hip-Hop Japan: Rap and the Paths of Cultural Globalization. Durham: Duke University Press Books.
  • Cooper, Brittney C., Susana M. Morris, and Robin M. Boylorn, eds. 2017. The Crunk Feminist Collection. New York: The Feminist Press at CUNY.
  • Dimitriadis, Greg. 2009. Performing Identity/Performing Culture: Hip Hop as Text, Pedagogy, and Lived Practice. New York: Peter Lang.
  • Durham, Aisha. 2014. Home with Hip Hop Feminism: Performances in Communication and Culture. New York: Peter Lang Publishing Inc.
  • Durham, Aisha, Brittney C. Cooper, and Susana M. Morris. 2013. “The Stage Hip-Hop Feminism Built: A New Directions Essay.” Signs 38 (3): 721–37. https://doi.org/10.1086/668843.
  • Euell, Kim, ed. 2009. Plays From the Boom Box Galaxy: Theater from the Hip Hop Generation. Theatre Communications Group.
  • Eure, Joseph D. 1991. Nation Conscious Rap: The Hip Hop Vision. Edited by James G. Spady. New York: PC International Press.
  • Fernandes, Sujatha. 2011. Close to the Edge: In Search of the Global Hip Hop Generation. London, New York: Verso.
  • Forman, Murray. 2002. The ’Hood Comes First: Race, Space, and Place in Rap and Hip-Hop. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press.
  • Guevara, Nancy. 1987. “Women Writin’ Rappin’ Breakin’.” In Droppin Science: Critical Essays on Rap Music and Hip Hop Culture, edited by William Perkins, 49–62. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
  • Harrison, Anthony Kwame. 2009. Hip Hop Underground: The Integrity and Ethics of Racial Identification. Temple University Press.
  • Hernandez, Jillian. 2014. “Carnal Teachings: Raunch Aesthetics as Queer Feminist Pedagogies in Yo! Majesty’s Hip Hop Practice.” Women & Performance: A Journal of Feminist Theory 24 (1): 88–106. https://doi.org/10.1080/0740770X.2014.904130.
  • Hill, Marc Lamont. 2009. “Scared Straight: Hip-Hop, Outing, and the Pedagogy of Queerness.” Review of Education, Pedagogy, and Cultural Studies 31 (1): 29–54. https://doi.org/10.1080/10714410802629235.
  • Janell Hobson, and Dianne Bartlow. 2008. “Introduction: Representin’: Women, Hip-Hop, and Popular Music.” Meridians: Feminism, Race, Transnationalism 8 (1): 1–14.
  • Jeffries, Michael P. 2011. Thug Life: Race, Gender, and the Meaning of Hip-Hop. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
  • Johnson, Imani Kai. 2014. “From Blues Women to B-Girls: Performing Badass Femininity.” Women & Performance: A Journal of Feminist Theory, All Hail the Queenz: A Queer Feminist Recalibration of Hip Hop, 24 (1).
  • Keyes, Cheryl L. 2004. Rap Music and Street Consciousness. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press.
  • Kitwana, Bakari. 2005. Why White Kids Love Hip Hop: Wankstas, Wiggers, Wannabes, and the New Reality of Race in America. New York: Basic Civitas Books.
  • Kwakye, Chamara Jewel, and Ruth Nicole Brown, eds. 2012. Wish to Live: The Hip-Hop Feminism Pedagogy Reader. New York, NY: Peter Lang Publishing Inc.
  • McCune, Jeffrey Q. 2008. “‘Out’ in the Club: The Down Low, Hip-Hop, and the Architexture of Black Masculinity.” Text and Performance Quarterly 28 (3): 298–314. https://doi.org/10.1080/10462930802107415.
  • McFarland, Pancho. 2013. The Chican@ Hip Hop Nation: Politics of a New Millennial Mestizaje. Michigan State University Press.
  • Mitchell, Tony, ed. 2002. Global Noise: Rap and Hip Hop Outside the USA. Middletown, CT: Wesleyan.
  • Morgan, Joan. 2000. When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost: A Hip-Hop Feminist Breaks It Down. New York: Simon & Schuster.
  • Morgan, Marcyliena. 2009. The Real Hiphop: Battling for Knowledge, Power, and Respect in the LA Underground. Apparent First Edition edition. Durham: Duke University Press Books.
  • Navarro, Jenell. 2014. “Solarize-Ing Native Hip-Hop: Native Feminist Land Ethics and Cultural Resistance.” Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society 3 (1): 101–18.
  • Neal, Mark Anthony, and Murray Forman, eds. 2004. That’s the Joint!: The Hip-Hop Studies Reader. New York: Routledge.
  • Osumare, Halifu. 2008. The Africanist Aesthetic in Global Hip-Hop: Power Moves. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
  • Pabón, Jessica N. 2014. “Interview with AbbyTC5: A Pioneering ‘HomeGirl’ in Hip Hop Herstory.” Women & Performance: A Journal of Feminist Theory, All Hail the Queenz: A Queer Feminist Recalibration of Hip Hop, 24 (1): 8–14.
  • Pabón, Jessica N., and Shanté Paradigm Smalls. 2014. “Critical Intimacies: Hip Hop as Queer Feminist Pedagogy.” Women & Performance: A Journal of Feminist Theory 24 (1): 1–7. https://doi.org/10.1080/0740770X.2014.902650.
  • Pabón-Colón, Jessica N. 2018. Graffiti Grrlz: Performing Feminism in the Hip Hop Diaspora. New York: New York University Press. http://nyupress.org/books/9781479895939/.
  • Pabón-Colón, Jessica Nydia. 2017. “Writin’, Breakin’, Beatboxin’: Strategically Performing ‘Women’ in Hip-Hop.” Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society 43 (1): 175–200. https://doi.org/10.1086/692481.
  • Pardue, Derek. 2011. Brazilian Hip Hoppers Speak from the Margins: We’s on Tape. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
  • Peoples, Whitney A. 2008. “‘Under Construction’: Identifying Foundations of Hip-Hop Feminism and Exploring Bridges between Black Second-Wave and Hip-Hop Feminisms.” Meridians: Feminism, Race, Transnationalism 8 (1): 19–52.
  • Perry, Imani. 2004. Prophets of the Hood: Politics and Poetics in Hip Hop. Durham: Duke University Press Books.
  • Pough, Gwendolyn D. 2004. Check It While I Wreck It: Black Womanhood, Hip-Hop Culture, and the Public Sphere. Boston: Northeastern University Press.
  • Rivera, Raquel Z. 2003. New York Ricans from the Hip Hop Zone. New York: Palgrave Macmillan.
  • Rivera-Velázquez, Celiany. 2008. “Brincando Bordes, Cuestionando El Poder: Cuban Las Krudas’ Migration Experience and Their Rearticulation of Sacred Kinships and Hip Hop Feminism.” Letras Femeninas 34 (1): 97–123.
  • Rose, Tricia. 1994. Black Noise: Rap Music and Black Culture in Contemporary America. Hanover, NH: Wesleyan University Press.
  • ———. 2008. The Hip Hop Wars: What We Talk About When We Talk About Hip Hop—and Why It Matters. New York: Basic Civitas Books.
  • Schloss, Joseph G. 2009. Foundation: B-Boys, B-Girls and Hip-Hop Culture in New York. Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press.
  • ———. 2014. Making Beats: The Art of Sample-Based Hip-Hop. Wesleyan.
  • Shange, Savannah. 2014. “A King Named Nicki: Strategic Queerness and the Black FemmeCee.” Women & Performance: A Journal of Feminist Theory, All Hail the Queenz: A Queer Feminist Recalibration of Hip Hop, 24 (1).
  • Sharpley-Whiting, T. Denean. 2008. Pimps Up, Ho’s Down: Hip Hop’s Hold on Young Black Women. New York: New York University Press.
  • Smalls, Shanté Paradigm. 2011. “‘The Rain Comes Down’: Jean Grae and Hip Hop Heteronormativity.” American Behavioral Scientist 55 (1): 86–95. https://doi.org/10.1177/0002764210381730.
  • Snorton, C. Riley. 2013. “As Queer as Hip Hop.” Palimpsest: A Journal on Women, Gender, and the Black International 2 (2): vi–x.
  • Tamar Sharma, Nitasha. 2010. Hip Hop Desis: South Asian Americans, Blackness, and a Global Race Consciousness. Durham, NC: Duke University Press Books.
  • Tiongson Jr., Antonio T. 2013. Filipinos Represent: DJs, Racial Authenticity, and the Hip-Hop Nation. Minneapolis: Univ Of Minnesota Press.
  • William Perkins. 1996. Droppin’ Science: Critical Essays on Rap Music and Hip Hop Culture. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
  • Wilson, D. Mark. 2007. “Post-Porno Hip-Hop Homos: Hip-Hop Art, Gay Rappers, and Social Change.” Social Justice 34 (1): 117–40.