The Owners, the Workers...and the Street

Ever wonder why historically there have not been huge, vibrant Filipinotowns like there are Chinatowns or Koreatowns in the U.S.?



Well, the clue lies in Filipino history. As a colony of Spain for over 300 years and the U.S. for half a century (at least formally), Filipinos have historically been working people (in the socioeconomic status sense) at the service of Western economic powers.

As during the periods of colonization, Filipinos continue to provide an important source of global labor for economic powers hungry for workers. Especially with our experiences in the U.S., we have proudly labored as farmworkers, bellhops, plantation laborers, nurses, navy stewards, postal workers, airport security, caregivers, and babysitters. Simply put, Filipinos have not been given the resources and capital that other Asian groups have in order to be "owners" in the U.S. (For example, refer to the history of post-WWII Korea and bilateral U.S. foreign aid to that country, which in turn translated to Korean entrepreneurship in the U.S.). So although Filipino businesses do indeed flourish especially in dense Filipino areas such as Daly City, Carson, or Jersey City, they do not flourish nearly to the extent of Korean or Chinese businesses (and other nationalities with entrepreneurial capital). Neither do Filipinos have the extensive network of ethnic loan lenders that other Asian groups enter the U.S. with. The histories of each country are very different, and the Philippines cannot be examined without its connected history with Spain and the U.S., and the racialization and economic subordination that comes along with that history.



A cousin of mine from the East Coast recently told me a story of a panel discussion on "Asians and Hip Hop Culture" that occurred at his university. One black student mentioned the irony of East Asian (Korean, Chinese, Japanese) youth's fascination with hip hop culture, because of the sometimes antagonistic relationship between East Asian groups and blacks and Latinos. (Let's assume here for the sake of this entry that blacks and Latinos are seen as the main representatives of hip hop culture). She made the exception for Filipinos, "who seem to get along better with blacks and Latinos." Filipinos' history of colonization, their subsequent position as workers in a racially segmented U.S. society, and their unlikelihood to occupy the "owner" status in racially segregated ghettos may give us clues to how Filipinos "get along" better with blacks and Latinos.



I'm not saying that by virtue of interacting with working class people of color, that Filipinos get along with them and perhaps share cultural habits. Although this may be true for some Filipinos who work alongside people of color (many nurses, postal workers, navy stewards, etc. are black, Mexican, Puerto Rican, etc.), the bigger point I'm trying to make is that the power relationships that place workers who perform "menial" labor subordinate to bosses, owners, entrepreneurs, and "white collar" professions stratifies the economy in terms of power and prestige, especially in urban areas where race relations can be tense. This stratification has an abundant history of racialization (race being a way to differentiate, exclude, and marginalize people in society). The way we talk, shoot the shit, interact, dance, make music, make art, and identify with one another are greatly informed by the imagined relationship we have with relative groups in a racialized, stratified economy. Peep Linda Espana-Maram's look at the youth culture of Filipino farm workers in the 1920s-1950s. Filipinos vibed alongside Mexicans and blacks in the dance scenes at the time. You can watch Apl.de.ap's "Bebot Generation 1" music video to get a fictional glimpse of that scene. (Also read up on the "Zoot Suit Riots" for the violence against Mexicans, blacks, and Filipinos in that scene).



So when the panelist made the comment about Filipinos "getting along" with blacks and Latinos, that needs to be examined in the context of the culture of working people. (As a note: no matter if Filipinos live with two car garages in the 'burbs, we know Filipino parents often work their asses off with overtime to attain a level of luxury). Not so much for Filipino parents, who may harbor racial prejudice against blacks and Latinos inherited from the U.S. colony (the Philippines), but the second-generation and young Filipino immigrants must deal with the racial politics of the schoolyard and therefore may be more sensitive to their position in a highly racialized society. The nature of their parents' labor (as sons and daughters of navy stewards, nurses, postal workers, etc. who work alongside other people of color) may provide important clues to how youth imagine their racial and economic position among their East Asian peers who are more likely to be (or perceived to be) owners or "white" collar (especially in urban areas). In addition, the perception of Filipinos in the eyes of blacks and Latinos may be less antagonistic as with other Asian groups because the owner/non-owner relationship is not as severe for Filipinos in urban areas; instead, they occupy similar spaces of labor.

I know the situation is more complex than what I have written about above, but I just extend this idea as one of many explanations of Filipinos' alignment with other people of color and their cultural productions. Your thoughts...

Fil Am Modern: Are You Funkier than a 5th Grader?

Check out this clip from the Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture (FPAC) at Point Fermin Park in San Pedro on Sunday, September 9th. These young people (ages 4-14) are from Oxnard, CA, just north of Los Angeles County.



Not to the (numerical) magnitude of the Filipino version of "Thriller" or "Sister Act," but these kids kill it with their skills and technical nuances (watch the really small ones pop the off-beat!).

Is dancing in our genes?! Well, I sometimes ask myself that when I see my 3 year old family members do coffee-grinders on the kitchen floor, but it's probably more the institution and tradition of choreographed dance at universities with a critical concentration of Filipinos. In fact, the choreographer of Undeclared (the group above) is an alum of Pac Modern at Cal State Long Beach. Also, we have to consider the long tradition of theater performance among Filipino college students: Pilipino Culture Nights (PCNs) and Barrio Fiestas are staples of Filipino community-building at colleges (that and the keg). See Anna Alves and Theo Gonsalves for more on Fil Am theater in U.S. colleges.

At all of the universities that I have attended (or teach at), Filipino students seem to dominate the choreographed dance scene. At the University of Florida, our Filipino Student Association always placed first, second, or third at the university-wide dance competitions. And it seems that my friends from various campuses across the country are extremely immersed in competitive dance. Whether it be in New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, or Georgia, young Filipinos are spending more time doing 8 counts than studying for midterms. Dance is a HUGE institution for Filipinos. (How many versions of the matrix or the puppet can you do!? How many times does the one or two b-boys gotta do a flare, somersault, or suicide front stage for audience reaction before it gets old?! Hip hop tinikling again!?)

Another interesting observation: many non-Filipinos love dancing with Filipino dance troupes. Whether your group is called Pac Modern, Samahang Modern, Kababayan, FSA Modern, what have you, as much as the troupe is "Filipinized," the reality is your group is probably very mixed ethnically. Many Vietnamese, Koreans, Chinese, and Caribbeans made up the FSA dance troupe during my time. This definitely added a wonderful, interesting mix.

I'm still waiting for the day when there is a nationwide Fil Am campus dance throwdown. Does it already happen? (Of course there is World Hip Hop Championships, but is there a coast-to-coast Fil Am dance championship? West Coast universities vs. FIND campuses, man!)

So why do you think competitive, choreographed dance among Filipino youth is such a national phenomenon, even transporting itself to the Philippines and other countries?

And where do non-Filipinos, particularly other Asians, fit into the Filipino dance community? Where do Filipinos fit into the tradition of street dance? The ever elusive gradient of FUNK!

Closing the Authority

I have some very sad news. Many of you may already know it. On Thursday, it became publicly known that Stacks Vinyl, the vinyl authority, will be closing. After a severe slump that began last year, Stacks' owner Isaiah Dacio aka DJ Icy Ice officially announced the store's demise.

Stacks opened seven years ago, and has been a solid home base for many DJs, record collectors, and hip hop heads in the Los Angeles area (and in San Diego for a while). The Cerritos location is still open for now (and I think the Ontario location will remain open under different ownership), and has some hot sales in order to rid of merch and to subsequently hook you up. The store is also online and you could still order your gear and music from there.

The closing of the store is a huge and sad loss. Stacks Vinyl affirms the thickness and vitality of the hip hop scene in the Los Angeles area, especially among Fil Am youth. Ice brought hip hop from innocent fun to a serious, committed business, an ambition that many hip hoppers couldn't manifest. The LA Weekly article "The Fil Am Invasion" which I wrote about below could not come at a more ironic moment. (BTW, here is Rhett's response to the article. See the Aug. 24th entry). As much as Stacks affirmed the strength of the Fil Am hip hop scene in Socal, it also continued to create a community and supported the development of the scene by providing a source of music and fashion, and also a performance venue for artists and DJs. Where else in Socal can Fil Am youth turn to to find the center of their hip hop scene? The closing is sad news indeed. (Thanks Mark Pulido and Isaiah for sharing your stories).

The reason for the closing? Plain and simple: Serato and digital music. Serato is becoming more and more popular, and there simply isn't any reason for younger DJs to collect vinyl. Stacks' staple consumer base is men in their mid 30s to 40s who grew up on 80s and early 90s hip hop. The only reason young people would collect vinyl would be to appreciate the record's visual aesthetic and its attached nostalgia. But in all honesty, who wants to lug around a dozen crates to a party when you got your laptop and Lacie harddrive? It just makes more sense to use Serato for many young people, and it's at the expense of the ways of old. And unfortunately (like whats happening with Blockbuster and Tower Records), the material, physical forms of vinyl (and also DVDs and CDs) are becoming more and more obsolete. Digital is the choice of media--download it, and its yours . Coupled with the unstoppable machine of the music industry, the old school ways have no chance. Nas' declaration "hip hop is dead" which I wrote about below may ring true for vinyl lovers. And along with the death of the artform is the death of businesses that rely on the materiality of the artform.

It's a huge loss that vinyl be reduced to a collector's item and no longer a functioning part of music culture. With the loss of the record is the great vinyl cover art, that tells as much of the artists' story as the music itself. (In fact, a guy was in Stacks yesterday just buying record album covers to display on his wall). So long visual aesthetic!



Of course, jazz musicians loathed the advancement of the record player and radio, which diminished the role of live music. Where live music used to be the source of all music, live music performances today is just seen as a "hip," cool, and different thing to experience at an open mic night or during a live jazz night at a bar. Just as digital technology is killing vinyl culture, radio and vinyl technology brought the demise of musicians (damn you Freestyle keyboard sound!). See Robin Kelley's article in Three Strikes for the story of how musicians lost their livelihood because of changes with the film industry--live musicians used play the score for silent films, and with the advent of "talking pictures," they lost their jobs. Technology is good for many (i.e. it democratizes and accesses music to the masses), but bad for some (i.e. the cultural creators of music).

So, it has been great Mr. Mobile DJ. We can't turn back the hands of time, but we can always treasure the moments and try our best to share history with the new generations. Hopefully this history will continue to be appreciated and add to the vitality of the emerging scenes. As jazz has given hip hop fresh and new ideas (by looking back at old forms), hopefully vinyl and other dying forms can somehow add to emerging cultural production. How? Good question.

I'm an advocate for progressing art forms: experimenting with sounds, moves, colors, and rhythm. I know technology plays a huge role in innovating the way art is created (i.e. the sample is a foundation of hip hop music). But how can technology also stifle art? How can it choke already existing modes of creativity?

"Reminiscin' When It Wasn't All Business": Hip Hop's Preoccupation with Yesterday

Is hip hop dead? Or is it just malnourished and underfed? This has always been on the minds of hip hoppers. In Nas's song "Hip Hop is Dead," he mourns the death of hip hop, which he rhymes as being one thing in the past, and now has changed into something he loathes (or at least has ambivalent feelings about). He raps that hip hop

"Went from turntables to MP3s,
From Beat Street to commercials on Mickey D's"


Nas, "Hip Hop is Dead"

I was going to write how I noticed many hip hop songs coming out TODAY concern missing the "old" values and pleasures of hip hop culture. For example, Joel Ortiz's "Hip Hop" and KRS-One and Marley Marl's "Hip Hop Lives" transport us back in time when trains were bombed with graffiti and kids did babies on cardboard. There are many more examples out there from CURRENT hip hop that express "hip hop nostalgia" and long for the days of old. The reason for rap's decline (according to some artists, like Nas) is the growing popularity of the hottest rap out today, i.e. Southern crunk.


Joell Ortiz, "Hip Hop"

Then, I thought of many other songs from the 90s (not only today) that articulate this nostalgia for the old days and (usually) the scorn of new music. I mean, the Black Eyed Peas built their early career on hating on new music coming out, claiming they were "real" hip hop. (And it's very ironic that will.i.am produced Nas's "Hip Hop is Dead" song, isn't it?)

In many of these songs, hip hop is constantly personified, sometimes taking the forms of a woman ("on my second marriage, hip hop's my first wifey" according to Nas, or "hip hop you're the love of my life" according to the Roots), some kidnapped dude, or a corpse. Take "One Day" by Jeru the Damaja. For Jeru, the flashy, catchy, and hypersampled hip hop of the Puff Daddy years was kind of like the Southern rap of today. In "One Day," hip hop is a kidnapped dude that Jeru and Afu Ra try to save from Bad Boy and Suge. He raps,

"If I recall correctly I last saw hip-hop down at Bad Boy
We'll see if Puff knows whassup
Cuz he's the one gettin' him drunk and fuckin' his mind up...
So we went to L.A. later that evenin'
When we got there, everything was aaight
And we brought Hip-Hop back home that night.
ONE DAY..."

In another example, for Common Westcoast rap was like the Southern rap of today or the Puffy rap of 1996. In "I Used to Love H.E.R." (1994), the artist personifies hip hop into this woman who is "unpure" because of the way she has been tainted by the gangsta, Westcoast culture. "Boy I tell ya, I miss her," Common reflects. Westcoast rap used to be denigrated! How things have changed (for hip hop in general and Common himself)!!

Hip hop personified exemplifies artists' tight, intimate relationship to the culture, so much like a women or a friend. But a deflowered female, a kidnapped dude, or a corpse also shows artists' perception of hip hop as property and/or powerless, having little agency without the artists' help.


Common, "I Used to Love H.E.R."

In his newest album, Nas laments that real power has been taken away from the artist; the rapper no longer has the freedom to be creative and go in their own direction. Hip hop is dead.

But, some artists are reclaiming power in the non-mainstream arena. Again, this isn't anything new, and the "underground" scene has always thrived from its critique of capital gain and scrutiny of the formulaic, predictable, and non-creative way that the mainstream music industry operates. From Hiero to Lif to Kweli J-Live, there is no scarcity of material that underground artists can rap about because the music industry and capital go hand in hand.

Relating this to Filipinos and hip hop, the infatuation with the "original" and "old school" elements of hip hop culture has always been strong in this community (with turntablism and b-boying as the obvious elements Pinoys are immersed in). And their rep in the rap game is more on the underground side. I'm not saying that Filipinos keep hip hop "more real," because, in all obviousness, there are too many examples of Pinoys that create and support the mainstream genre.

But some artists, like Blue Scholars, provide good material to challenge the idea of the loss of power in the hands of the artists (and people in general). In "Southside Revival," Geo raps,

"Let your hands be the pillars that be holdin' up the sky.
I heard a few heads say that hip hop is dead.
No it's not, it's just malnourished and underfed"


Blue Scholars, "Southside Revival"

So what is this debate about? Sure, we can always remind ourselves that WE as regular, non-celebrity people have power. But does Nas also have a point in saying that power has been taken away and hip hop is dead? Is penetrating the mainstream really necessary to create meaningful, lasting change where hip hop is concerned? Or is creativity and power only possible in the underground? And if by chance the lyrics expressed by underground artists is made more accessible in the mainstream, will people of color (and not just white college kids) even listen to it? A classic debate.

But anyways, I'm curious to know other songs that reminisce about the good old days and/or point out how current music sucks. Certainly I think that critiquing new, strange sounds is a staple of popular music culture. For hip hop, which emphasizes "realness," the old school, the golden days, the boom-bap era, back when hip hop was "real" will always be an issue as the culture moves forward. But in this era of MP3s, MPCs, internet access, globalization, hypercapitalism, hip hop as mainstream (because it used to be in the margins, remember?), hip hop in video games-- do these nostalgia songs have a new meaning than when Common used to love her? Is it more urgent?

Anyways, for the b-boy/girl, he/she could care less about the latest hip hop jam. Diggin' that funk is where it's at.

Hip Hop Mestizaje Showing at Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture

To all of my adoring fans, I am pleased to announce that my short documentary/multimedia project "Hip Hop Mestizaje: Racialization, Resonance, and Filipino American Knowledge of Self" will be featured at the 16th annual Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture (FPAC) in the Pinoy Visions tent.

FPAC is happening at Point Fermin Park in San Pedro on Sep. 8-9. Peep the website for more info: Fil Am Arts

Support community arts! Represent at FPAC this year (if you're on the West Coast)!

Also, don't forget about the famed FPAC Amateur DJ Battle, happening the Sunday of FPAC. The battle is brought to you by Stacks Records.

Fil Am "Invasion"?

For those of you who may not have read this, here is a link to last week's LA Weekly article on the Filipino American hip hop "invasion" of Hollywood clubs.

http://www.laweekly.com/2007-08-09/music/the-fil-am-invasion/


I'm sure we're all glad that the mainstream media is highlighting our communities. But if you read closely (or not so closely), you might find a number of errors and problems. Here are a few:

1. In the print edition, J Rocc (Beat Junkies) is the cover picture. Although he's a down brutha, J Rocc ain't Pinoy, and the story is strictly about the Fil Am "invasion." On the website, J Rocc is also featured spinning in a You Tube clip, as if he represents the Fil Am youth Slovick is trying to portray. They also list Rodney-O as a Filipino. It gets weirder...

2. Filipino youth have been involved in hip hop in LA and Hollywood since the 1980s. Why does the author Sam Slovick make it seem like this is a new thing? What a nasty insult to the OGs.

3. This sentence is disturbing: "These Fil-Am kids are serious about having a good time, and that’s about it. It’s cultural. It came from the islands. The celebratory communal music and dance go way back to tribal roots." Ok, let's ignore the Americanization (and African Americanization) of Filipinos in the Philippines since 1898. Gotcha!

4. He pits the "old" DJs against young, trendy club promoters. He calls Icy Ice part of the "first-generation" of Filipino DJs. No! Ice is probably considered the newer era of mobile DJs, because there is a whole lineage before him! He started learning from older cats at age 12!!

5. Slovick needs to justify what he means by hip hop, because the young, trendy club promoters are more the side of business and partying, rather than the cultural, aesthetic, and disciplined realm of hip hop, a dimension of hip hop that Slovick sets up in the beginning when introducing Icy Ice and other "first-generation" DJs. Bright colored sneakers, spermicidal foam, porn stars, and cars-- oh the generation that embraces these wonderful things really needs to be emancipated from dusty-fingered, disc jockeying old fogies! (Beware the coming era of Reconstruction and Jim Crow.)

6. If this is about hip hop, where are the legendary Fil Am graff artists, dancers, rappers? This is in Los Angeles, and there is no mention of Black Eyed Peas (pre-Fergie)? They were a famed dance crew before they turned to music, and very deeply influenced by the Filipino American dancers (like Regan). And Apl is Pinoy.

7. Slovick needs to learn how to insert his screwy, neoliberal, off-color interjections more craftily when he tries to write about a group he doesn't belong to or understand. This is how he ends the article: "Today, hip-hop is a form of assimilation — a way for anyone to show up in the USA and invent him or herself, to take the prevailing culture and add to it what they brought with them. God bless America. Everybody is a star, baby." No craft! You're sinkin' foo!

Red flags go up when anyone mentions assimilation. Maybe because it starts with the word "ass."

For more discussion on this, look at Oliver Wang's posting and comments on his blog:
http://poplicks.com/2007/08/la-filipino-invasian.html

The UPDATE:
No Hip-Hop Hurrah

----

ARTIST SPOTLIGHT: Kuttin Kandi picks up the mic and drops the science [CONTINUED]

[Continued from May 10th, 2009 post]

A LOVE MORE THAN JUST HIP HOP

By DJ Kuttin Kandi

i do this
for the love of Hip-Hop
i do this whether
i make it or flop
i do this so i can one day
open a record shop
i do this to afford a new pair
of addidas shell-tops

knod my head
to a funky be-bop
hands in the air

nothing

can’t ever make me stop
playin a good beat drop
can’t break me up
cause i can’t seem to get enough
of a love more than just hip-hop

most people think
i do it all for a name
while all that’s good
it’s still all the same
if you really know me
beyond Kuttin Kandi
you’d know that
im pretty plain

ill say

forget the fame

forget the glory
i do this to tell my story


i spin wax
to write my wrongs
and say im sorry
i don’t care to spit rhymes
and slay poetry

not for some poets on tv jam
i don’t care if i win
some timed poetry slam
i don’t restrict myself
for television finds a way
to keep the truth banned

i know who i am
i am my own fan
i never compromise
my art to a fake
label-head man
never sold my soul
to a devil dressed up
like a businessman
i’ve made my own plans
all i need are my own hands
a pair of needles, pen and pad
and i make my demands

cause whats the use of a spoken word
when the words aren’t spoken
beyond these lips
whats the use of a backspin
when we don’t turn the tablez
beyond chart hits
why do i spark spliffs
when i could be on a natural high
takin good whiffs
whats the meaning of a dope spit
when your children learns no wit
whats the point of a sign on a stick
when you cant protest and save a brother
from falling sick

sometimes
we need to get licked
just to realize that the worlds
inflict-ed
cause i do this
for a sister
who’s been conflicted
too many times
her body has been depicted
as if her souls drained
and heroin addicted
its either she’s on too many diets
or her breasts been lifted
she talks about women strength
yet she’s living proof
of someone who’s contradicted
i do this for the brother
who forms a fist to her face
and is still not convicted
i do this for me
because i was once that addicted
to a love that never existed

i let myself go
hoping the music
keeps me persisted


i let myself go
i let myself turn
i let myself spin
i let myself flow
with the drip of a pen
and these are the times
i stay in it to win
these are the days
i never give in

so i do this for the love
that the music has got to lead
my skin has got to bleed
sometimes you gotta die
so the soul can breathe
sometimes you gotta ask yourself
what you got left to feed
sometimes you have to be the change
just so this world can fly free

and i love myself too much
to ever let me
just be
what everyone expects of me
i love myself too much
so i let me be
just me
for me
to survive
i have bled and i have died

i know what its like to carry
only 2 bucks in my pocket
for one metrocard ride
sometimes not enough
for a roundtrip
back to the other side
i don’t hide
just to satisfy those
who think they’re
dignified

cause as much as this is for me
this is for all of you

for the best friends who have loved me
watched me at every show
stayed with me since the beginning
even when i was at my low
this is for all the
lovers that will come and go
this is for all the mc’s
who can rock a dope flow
for the DJs
that think i’m just a female dj
who says i don’t deserve such a glow

this is for all the peace writers
and all my freedom fighters
raise your fist
light your fire

for this is
for the leaders
that divide us
bleeds us
and blinds us
it wont be too long
till my music sets us free
it wont be too long
that my words will make you see
that im more than just a platoon
or an anomaly

more than just a DJ
spittin ill poetry

i’m a survivor
that can never be beat
i’ve juggled songs to defeat
kuttin it all up has kept me un-weak
and the words I write
is what the whole world speaks

i do this cause
i’m tired of the struggle
that no one thinks exist
i’m tired of reminiscing the moments
i’ve tried slitting my wrists
blood stains a perfect wish
i don’t want to spend my nights
relying on liquor & spliffs
and i want to let go of the times
he used to hit
useless memories
makes waste of a good spit

i’m so sick of this shit
sick of fallin into bottomless pits
sick of tryin to keep my wit
frontin like everyone else
tryin to stay in shape and fit
society has a way of makin
a big woman like me
a misfit

why must i
hold myself back and resist?
why can’t i speak the truth
and raise my hands in a fist?
why can’t you recognize me
and the way my wind shifts?
recognize
that a strong Pinay sister
like me exists
recognize
i’m more than
getting’ it good with me
just to get on the DJ’s guest list
recognize
that you
my people
should never enlist
recognize
we need to take risks

recognize you
recognize me

recognize
this is all way beyond
the name
Kuttin Kandi

understand
that i aint done no thing
this poem aint no thing
Hip-Hop done no thing
all these words and music
aint no thing
when my people
aren’t even listening

so
this is for you
this is for me
this is for the love
of a thing called
poetry and turntabltry

this is for all the makers
and the creators
this one is
especially for the
haters

this is for the friends
who called me a friend
but never knew what
ride or die meant

this ones for those of you
who smiled in my face
talked shit behind my back
and didn’t think id make a comment

this is to let you know
that im goin to rise above it

this is for my soulmate Rob
who is in love with
my individuality

this one is for my sister
that believes in me
this is for all the things
my mother gave up for me
and this is in the name
of my father’s loving memory

this is for my Lola’s Filipino accent
this is for the times I wish I hadn’t
denied I was Asian and
that my eyes were slanted

this is for Bush, Marcos,
Arroyo and Bin Ladden
spilled blood on my land
enraged my people
and turned us maddened
back in our homeland
and it makes me sick to imagine
5,000 pinay’s on
rest and recreation ships
I can’t even fathom
167 politically assasin’d
38,000 human rights been abused
and my hearts saddened

they hearts savaged
me lands ravaged
they souls havent

heard a good song
so i let the record play
and let them know
i aint haven’t it

i don’t this to make new trends
or to profit off the fact
that im this rare
Filipino-female-DJ/poet
who’s Asian
i do this to pay my rent
i do this to make amends
i do this cause sex-traffickin our sisters
are up at 600 %
i do this for the
Guerrilla Words movement
through me
Mumia, David Wong,
Carlos Bulosan
Lorena
And Gabriela
can’t be kept silent

this is how i want my last days spent

to hear the clapping drums
of an audience
to feel it fall from the back of my neck
as all my fake friends sweat
to lift record crates and
have my back all bent
to see the spotlight on my people
as i represent
to play to the beat of my own
instrument

to be everything we’ve ever dreamt

we dare to live
don’t ever say
you could never give
yourself
that chance

i do this because if I didn’t
who would?
imagine if the whole world could

i do this to say
this is what happens
if you should

this is for the stories
we all need to share
let loose and walk bare
so

you should do this
for the love of Hip-Hop
you should do this whether
you make it or flop
i do this so i can one day
open a record shop
i do this to afford a new pair
of addidas shell-tops

knod your head
to a funky be-bop
hands in the air

nothing

can’t ever make you stop

playin a good beat drop
can’t break us up
cause i can’t seem to get enough
of a love more than just hip-hop

most people think
i do it all for a name
while all that’s good
it’s still all the same
if you really know me
beyond Kuttin Kandi
you’d know that im pretty plain

i’ll say

forget the fame
forget the glory

i do this to tell my story

understand
that i aint done no thing
this poem aint no thing
all these words and music
aint no thing
when my people
aren’t even listening

[RETURN to original post]