Gunshot Sounds of Seattle: Prometheus Brown's "May Day"

Asked to write a Seattle Times guest column in response to last month's deadly shooting spree in Seattle's University District, Blue Scholar's Prometheus Brown wrote a song instead.  He wrote "May Day" to address the less-acknowledged and more pervasive violence in the city. (Lyrics and media below)

A media spectacle erupted around the May shootings in a city that, according to a ABC news clip, "prides itself as one of the safest big cities in America."

Stirring a firestorm of internet controversy, Pro Brown's "May Day" attempts to debunk the myth of Seattle's"safe" reputation. Do we really know whats going on in "grimier environments," where shootings and other acts of violence happen frequently?

Aftermath of the May shooting spree

Pro Brown's song is dense with layers of references and images (Spike Lee's provocative 1989 movie "Do the Right Thing" reveals Brown's generational sensibilities), but is clear in its indictment of popular media's tendency to sensationalize violence in so-called "safe" urban areas, when violence in the hood is often left ignored. It seems there exists a double standard: some lives are worth more than others.

Pro Brown doesn't valorize the hood or champion its condition.  Instead, "May Day" laments the situation that folks have no choice but to live in and criticizes the expectations made by city officials and commentators that marginalized people must "act right" as "proper citizens" in order to be fully enfranchised. Brown says, "They saying that you gotta act right if you wanna have rights, but what if you were born into a wrong situation?"

Sadly, violence has become normalized in certain parts of town. "It’s something that’s been happening for a long time in the south end." Certainly bounded within the geography of Seattle's metropolis, the song illustrates that the south end is not fully enfranchised. Sure, there is "panic" in Seattle, but there is also an indifference to people's lives in abject areas. Perhaps the disavowal of the conditions of the latter is necessary in creating the mythology and materiality of a "safe" Seattle.

Prometheus also alludes to the danger impacting Philippine journalists who for some time have been "disappeared" due to their investigations of the Philippine military and government.  He urges us to see the links between the dangers confronted by ordinary citizens in the lesser-respected parts of town and that of Philippine journalists who testify to injustices. Both bear witness, and both are vulnerable to death due to state-complied violence.

What happens when our collective consciousness normalizes violence, especially when it is targeted toward groups that are stripped of voice?

How long does it take for our collective consciousness to "wake up" from the numbness, indifference, or ignorance we have towards the chronic premature death of black and brown people?  How many more Trayvon Martins or South Side Chicago shootings?

Prometheus does not claim to have the answers, but he says "neither does a person who practices double standards." 

"May Day" is concise, smart, subversive, and should prompt us to rethink what is being normalized and provoke us to change those grievous conditions.

Never heard of this, city getting murderous —
occupation dangerous like Philippine journalists.
Crazy and deranged they describe him in the same pages
that would call him terrorist, if not for the melanin deficiency.

Gang problem bigger than just juvenile delinquency.
Gangs is survival if environments is grimy.
To begin with — speaking of which, let’s be consistent —
Today is called a tragedy, yesterday a statistic.

I’m listening, before I ever speak upon insisting.
My name is young Prometheus and this is my opinion:
Watch “The Interrupters,” see ordinary civilians
can police themselves before they have to call police for help.

At least a little space to breathe, if you believe all violence
is abhorrent to your being, then why you oversee it?
If the killer wears a uniform but if the killer’s me,
it’s normal if the victim also looks like me.

Shots fired in the south end, nobody cares.
Shots fired in the north end, everybody scared.
Nothing they can do for us that we can’t do ourselves.
Point the finger at the mirror instead of somebody else.

Shots fired in the parking lot, nobody cares.
Shots fired in the coffee shop, everybody scared.
Nothing they can do for us that we can’t do ourselves.
Point the finger at the mirror instead of somebody else.

Can’t lie, I know the music can be influential,
but not as influential as desperation. They saying
that you gotta act right if you wanna have rights,
but what if you were born into a wrong situation?

Moral relativity — that passive aggressive city stuff —
becoming history quicker than you can blink at me.
Rule 1: Protect yourself at all times.
Rule 2: Always end but never start a fight.

Came up in the era of the hand-to-hand scrapping
‘til the drugs happened, now it’s bloodshed at transactions.
I’m calling time out like Samuel L. Jackson
playing DJ Love Daddy with the African medallion.

Tryin’a do the right thing. I don’t have the answers,
but neither does a person who practices double standards.
If every death’s a tragedy then join us when we’re chanting,
and not just when we’re singing and dancing. Too many

shots fired in the south end, nobody cares.
Shots fired in the north end, everybody scared.
Nothing they can do for us that we can’t do ourselves.
Point the finger at the mirror instead of somebody else.

Shots fired in the parking lot, nobody cares.
Shots fired in the coffee shop, everybody scared.
Nothing they can do for us that we can’t do ourselves.
Point the finger at the mirror instead of somebody else.

Prometheus Brown, also known as George Quibuyen, lives in the Rainier Beach neighborhood of Seattle.

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Sunday Cipher: Blue Scholars powered by the people

Blue Scholars "Cinemetropolis" Kickstarter Campaign from Blue Scholars on Vimeo.

Continuing with the scoop on Seattle, we see the Blue Scholars doing it again: finding new and innovative ways to represent themselves and their audience. Since their "new deal" partnering with Caffe Vita and the reverse-signing with Duck Down Records, Geo and Sabzi are now formulating an investment-strategy powered by YOU, the fan. Interesting... Show love.

Artist Spotlight: Seattle Sound with 10.4 Rog

I recently had the privilege to catch up with some down folks in beautiful Seattle. This historically-important city--especially for its labor culture, Filipino migration, and music scene-- represents a critical space for Filipino American community-building through art. Isangmahal Arts Kollective and the Blue Scholars are just two Fil Am-related groups from Seattle that have made a national impression.

10.4 Rog (Roger Habon) steps onto the stage as a young beat producer who is without question steeped in the Seattle music scene. His music has been gaining ample attention, a wonderful feat given his youth. His production on the free EP "Late" with The Good Sin provides you with unorthodox, haunting, but soulful composition. Here is a review of the EP in Seattle's weekly magazine The Stranger. I got a chance to sit down with this incredibly talented brotha and get educated on the Seattle sound. Dude is a bottomless well of information!

(Photo credit: DJ 100 Proof)

Whats up with the name 10.4 Rog?

starting around 2008 i was djing around the city of seattle with four others. as a unit, we called ourselves 'paperboy' for promotional purposes, so that we could have a name on fliers. additionally we realized we needed to bill ourselves for the residency we had, so we took up names. for some reason, i picked '10.4 roger.' when i recorded an edit, or did a blend and put a popular acapella over some industry beat, i would tag my name at the end of the mp3 and share it with the other paperboy djs. over time i shortened the tag to '10.4 rog' and then started making fully produced remixes around 2009. by 2010 i was making more music than i was going out djing gigs. i guess that's how the name stuck.

How long have you been doing music and how did you get in to beat production?

as far as doing music, i can probably date that back to when my parents bought an upright piano. i was eight. i took lessons for two years and quit. i took up the snare drum in the fifth grade, and by the time i was about 12 i was sequencing drums and sampling on a computer. at the end of middle school i was djing on my brother's setup and buying records with my friend at the golden oldies in renton. i started taking piano lessons again in high school, however briefly, but that period of time set the foundation for most of my understanding of music theory. by the end of my junior year i was playing drums on a full set all the way through college, all while messing around on the turntables and with production on and off. making beats to me wasn't a discipline or something that i considered as anything more than a hobby till about two years ago.

What are your impressions of hip hop music in Seattle?

i think seattle hiphop has a unique type of influence on the national scene as a whole. producers vitamin d and jake one have, between themselves, made a name producing for gift of gab, redman, black sheep, de la soul, 50 cent, and freeway and hella more heads. on top of that, those two help put on the highest-profile beat battle in the country: the red bull big tune. out of the big tune competition, producers from everywhere have been able to build a larger following: 14kt, frank dukes, tallblackguy, dibiase, as well as seattle's own brainstorm and kuddie fresh. also, shabazz palaces has garnered huge acclaim in the past year from the likes of rolling stone and pitchfork. they work with theesatisfaction (here and here), two girls who i've had the fortune to know, and have since found audiences in all places. both the two aforementioned acts are signed to seattle label subpop, an indie powerhouse.

j pinder is coming up with the hall of justus camp. noclue, a guinness world-record holder, is doing work with the multi-instrumentalist/producer/mc terrace martin in CA. geo and the blue scholars have a huge rep pretty much everywhere. sabzi dj's for the acclaimed duo das racist. tha bizness are seattle transplants, and have done major work producing for drake/lil wayne, ice cube, mistah fab, and chris brown.

on top of that there's the bgirl/bboy scene and the djs which one might consider a whole other category. and on top of that, there is a huge spectrum of seattle area-based artists and peers that are doing incredible, incredible things musically, and not necessarily in the realm of hip hop, though they identify with members of the scene. there are literally too many good names to drop.

(Photo credit: Aaron Verzosa)

What is your weapon of choice? How do you use it differently than other producers?

just a couple midi controllers (a roland fp-7, an akai mpd32, and at one point a microkorg) and some softwares. i can't say exactly how i use it differently than other producers. i might be utilizing it much in the same way as the rest, to be honest.

Describe your sound.

my sound and approach changes per project. it's hard for me to say exactly what it is or how it comes off, but i will say that i like to play with harmony and time in a weird little way, i like to keep things simple, for the most part, and i like for my music to feel a bit loose.

What is Makipag and how did that fit into your story as a musician?

makipag was a group the homey joseph organized in college to gather artists together who were into making films, writing, performing, or making music. its most visible result was a monthly open mic (we liked to call it open stage to welcome artists that did not necessarily perform with vocals). as far as me being a musician, it didn't play too much of a part, but i did get to exercise different duties as a house band drummer, playing a kit and the cajon on a few occasions.

(Illustration credit: Darvin Vida)

Who are some of the artists you've been working with? How did you make those connections?

lately i've been working with sax g, jarv dee and the cloud nice family, multo, and the good sin, who i just put out an ep-sized project with called "late" where he raps and i produce the music. i plan on working in this format with sax and jarv. i met sax thru the good sin, and jarv dee thru the cloud nice folk, who i connected with after remixing one of their songs. multo is a person i met thru makipag. he's a guitarist and singer/songwriter. i'm very fortunate to know all of them, and listening to their music makes me want to improve on the work i do and the way i work.

I hear you were mentioned in the Seattle Times. What is that story?

i got a placement in seattle times around october of 2009 for remixing helladope's "just so you know". helladope is one of the groups that comprises the cloud nice collective, and the seattle times music writer andrew matson has sort of been writing about my work ever since. i'm fortunate to have that sort of interest from somebody at the times, of all places, but it's nothing at all to be satisfied about. there's always the need for me to try and get better at what i do.

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Throwback Thursday: Celebrating Black History Month: Filipino American X blackness

Fictional depiction of Filipino "insurrectos" fighting U.S. colonizers. This screen shot is from found footage featured in the film Bontoc Eulogy. The Filipinos are played by African American actors.

In this edition of Throwback Thursday we celebrate Black History Month, which was founded by Carter G. Woodson whose connection to the Philippines as supervisor of schools during the early days of U.S. colonization makes the linkages of this blog to Black history so significant.

In my entry from April 2008, I discuss Filipino American participation in hip hop and the community's relationship to Black people and blackness. I've since refined my approach (for example, I've abandoned the term "mestizaje"), but my attempt to center Black history and positionality within a Filipino racial discourse is stronger than ever. Anyways, thanks for all the support and enjoy:

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I just got done presenting a very short synopsis of some of my research questions at this year's Association of Asian American Studies Conference in Chicago.

I showed "Hip Hop Mestizaje" and did an 8 minute discussion on what the hell its supposed to be about. Thanks to everyone who liked the film and appreciated my research on the intersections of Filipinoness and Blackness. For those folks exploring similar topics, keep on keepin on, it's an emerging topic (I hope!). Can't wait for the Filipino Soul conference that is in discussion.

Here is the paper I shared at the conference:

"Right now I want to thank god for being me
My soul won't rest until the colony is free
1896 Revolution incomplete
Silence is defeat, my solution is to speak
Resurrect the legacy of martyrs I beseech
Time to choose a side: It's the mighty verse the meek
My big brother Free brought the word from the East
We're the bullet in the middle of the belly of the beast."

These are the lyrics of Geologic, the Pinoy emcee of the Seattle hip hop duo Blue Scholars. When decoding the meaning behind the lyrics, such as “I want to thank god for being me,” we can see that his references of Filipino nationalism are curiously reinforced by Five Percenter Nation of Islam rhetoric, which is a pedagogical and spiritual discipline rooted in sects of African American Muslim tradition. In this verse, “god” refers to Geologic himself. For those who are not familiar, in the Five Percenter tradition, “god” refers the original Black man, or the god on Earth. So the question we ask is, “why is a Filipino emcee uttering a clearly Afro-centric phrase?” In my thesis, I interrogate the uses of Blackness by Filipino American hip hop practitioners. I contend that for many Filipino Americans, Blackness is both a resource and referent in their process of racial identification, and complements an existing racialized and hybridized Filipino subjectivity. Hip hop serves as an appropriate case study to demonstrate the emergence of Blackness among Filipino Americans’ racialized expressions. The recent JabbaWockeez triumph are a prime example of Filipinos’ dedication and loyalty to hip hop cultural production.

By evoking the often-neglected role of the Afro-Americanization of Filipinos, it is my intention to bring into focus the formation of race-consciousness among young Pinoys and Pinays—an effort that is built from the interventions made by scholars who have documented the process of deracialization among Fil Ams involved in hip hop. While we may be well-aware of young Pinoy and Pinays’ efforts to deracialize themselves (i.e. becoming the real “invisible” in the Invisbl Skratch Piklz), what is happening when they attempt to bring race consciousness unabashed? What does a post-1980s, hip hop generation, race-conscious Filipino American identification look like?

As seen from the video, Filipino Americans have been immersed in certain realms of hip hop forms since the late 1970s, but their participation in the broader forms of Black performance traditions dates back to contact made by Black Buffalo Soldiers who arrived in the islands during the Philippine-American War. The Americanization of the islands through music, education, and culture certainly contributed to Filipino familiarity with their White colonizers, but with the Americanization of Filipinos was the simultaneous Afro-Americanization of Filipinos. Therefore, the identification with Blackness among Filipinos has precedence, a precedence that is essentially rooted in U.S. Empire and the concomitant resistance partnered by Black Buffalo Soldier and Filipino insurgents during the war. At the turn of the 20th century when the Jim Crow South was solidified and U.S. Empire reached the Philippines, Blacks and Filipinos were rapping to a different beat, one underpinned by colonial domination and racist ideology.

Filipino Americans’ hybridity (or the “mestizaje” that I use) mediates their identification with Blackness in both its aesthetics and cultural origins. Elizabeth Pisares writes of Filipino American artists’ “invisibility” and lack of racial discourse, which allows for a flexible identity formation, moving in-between Asian-ness, Latinidad, Whiteness and Blackness. Many young Pinoy/Pinay brothers and sisters have been making visible a constructed notion of their Filipinoness through hip hop. The Pilipino Culture Nights, whose organizers were once skeptical of the “modern” hip hop sections of the theatrical shows (as Filipino hip hoppers were accused of “acting Black”), are now almost incomplete without them; hip hop has become staple for many PCN troupes. In another example, at a recent “Filipino Hip Hop Renaissance” showcase organized by the Kababayan Pilipino and “The Dark Boys” Pinoy brotherhood at University of California, Irvine, a graffiti-style artwork displayed on one panel the Philippine star rising above the Manila skyline and the word “Lost,” and on the opposite panel were displayed blaring boombox speakers along with the word “Found” (artwork by Pia Banez and Rommel Dimacali). As if evoking the Five Percenter “Lost-Found” lesson, young Filipinos continue to process racial and ethnic identification in the context of Filipino cultural recuperation. Here, hip hop is the recuperator.

Hip hop’s rise in popularity in the 80s among a generation of youth of all colors gave its resonance mass appeal, and for young Pinoys and Pinays, this resonance interwove with their existing racialized story here in the States and a broader story informed by Spanish and U.S. Empire. Commenting on hip hop’s appearance in the lives of young Filipinos in the early 80s, Geologic said in an interview “we had to respond to [hip hop] in some way. We had to either be a part of it or resist it. And why would we resist it? It’s something that we can kind of relate to.”

Even though Latinidad and Asian-ness can be powerful sources of racial affiliation among Filipinos (with Whiteness as the neocolonial racial default), my interest is the Blackness that is left unregistered, unrecognized, and even denigrated. As Geologic puts it, “I think a lot of ways when people down talk hip hop in the Filipino community, I think they do it with a tinge of racism to it. Because like a Filipino hip hop artist isn’t as legitimate as Filipino musical playwright. You know. Or a Filipino novelist. When in fact those three—first of all if they are all writing in English, then they’re writing in a language that’s not theirs. You know, so then who’s to say what is Filipino and what’s not?”

Filipino hybridity not only provides rich analysis for comparative race studies, even more, it presents the intersectionality of racialized groups and deconstructs the built borders surrounding ethnic studies disciplines. While addressing the fictiveness of essentialized Filipino identity, investigations of Filipino American performance of Blackness demonstrates the possibilities and promises of unpacking interracial subjectivities—indeed putting Blackness at the center of analysis—while never abandoning the critique of Whiteness as forming the broader structure of power relationships.

So it is worth asking, “what does a post-1980s, hip hop generation, race-conscious Filipino American identification look like?” It can look like many things, and rocking the dance floor to funk breaks and dominating the DJ scene illustrates an un-ignorable cultural dimension, like a bright colored graff piece written on a painted and repainted road sign.

In closing, it is important to acknowledge that Filipino American performance of Blackness is not free of deserved criticism. As Joel Tan writes in “Homothugdragsterism,” “it didn’t bother me that Filipino Americans we re affecting and talking Black. What vexed me was the ways this adopted Blackness went unquestioned…” Uncritical Blackness as drag should be scrutinized, especially when affiliation with Blackness does not necessarily mean a respect for Black people. In addition, Blackness in its constructed hypermasculine dimensions and its gendered role imbedded in racial significance should be taken into consideration. So in an attempt to re-imagine greater dimensions of Filipino racial discourse, a gesture towards the Afro-Americanization of Filipinoness is worth generous attention, especially for a people whose prism of difference is molded from every direction. Geologic best summarizes this re-envisioning:

“Rewriting what it is to what it ought to be.
I be the emcee in the place not to be.
Under constant revision is the poem that I be.”


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Hip hop over homework: Filipino Americans "failing"?

Filipino children recite "Jingle Bells" in the classic

Philippine film Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos (1976).

Getting “Stuck”

In a November issue of the Asian Journal, an article entitled “Why Are Fil-Ams Doing Poorly in School?” compares the “poor” academic performance of Filipino American students with the stellar achievements of other Asian American groups. Among other startling statistics, the data gathered by the National Federation of Filipino-American Associations (NaFFAA) reports that “Filipino-American public high school students in the city of San Francisco had the highest dropout rate among other Asians. Those who stayed in school barely passed.” It continues,

“In San Francisco public schools, the report revealed, the California Standardized Test scores of Filipino-Americans in 6th to 8th grades were “Below Basic” in both English-language arts and mathematics. In the 9th to 11th grades, 42 percent of Filipino students were in the “Basic” and “Below Basic” levels in the Star Math test. California schools have five performance levels: Advanced, Proficient, Basic, Below Basic and Far Below Basic.

In Los Angeles, the dropout numbers for Filipino-American students represented 56 percent of all dropouts in the county.”

The last statement, Fil Ams representing 56 percent of all dropouts in LA county, is probably an error. The article’s author, Dennis Clemente, likely (hopefully!) meant Fil Ams represented 56 percent of dropouts among Asian Americans in the county, or he likely meant Fil Ams dropped out at a 56 percent rate within the ethnic group. Whatever the case, the data is troubling.

Furthermore, when it comes to science and math, Clemente notes,

“A 2006 Seattle School District study also found that in the 10th grade WASL test, 73 percent of Filipino-American students failed the science component and 55 percent failed the math component. Both are subjects required for graduation.”

In a December article, the Asian Journal continued the theme of Filipino American student academic underperformance, but this time it addressed their low-rate of enrollment in higher education (four-year or higher academic institutions). Melany De La Cruz-Viesca, a friend of FilAm Funk as well as a former member of the legendary L.A. poetry troupe Balagtasan Collective and current assistant director of the Asian American Studies Center at the University of California, Los Angeles, iterates the crisis young Fil Ams are in when it comes to higher education:

"'We’re not going on to graduate programs or doctorate programs. I think in a way Filipinos are getting stuck and I’m curious to try and find out why that is. Are more Filipino students going to community colleges first before transferring, or are they being tracked into these high school programs that do allow them to go to a four-year university? More and more, I think we’re getting stuck at community colleges or they just finish with an AA degree before getting a job.'

'It’s really telling because if you see Koreans and Taiwanese, they are going on and receiving their graduate and doctorate degrees,' added De La Cruz-Viesca."

Why Are We Running the “Race“?

One question I would like to raise is the comparative value of the (phantom) category of race (here, we are talking about “Asian American”) and its uncritical usage in the two articles. The articles essentially ask, “Why are Fil Ams underperforming in academics when other Asian Americans are doing better (or overachieving)?” I would like to ask, “Why compare Fil Ams to other Asian Americans in the first place?” In the same vein, why compare Koreans and Taiwanese together? Essentially, what “glue” holds these groups together—what characteristics give them comparative value? Is this a biological issue? If so, how is this different from the practices of biological racial taxonomy used to justify racial segregation and differential treatment at the turn of the 19th century? Or maybe this is an immigration issue? If so, for the sake of analysis, why can’t Fil Ams be compared to Mexicans, Haitians, or Brazilians? Why are we concerned with how more “successful” Asian Americans are doing? Why does it matter? The second article's criticism of the state's lumping of all Asians together is a step into the right direction, as the state's determining of racial membership holds a certain aura of authority. We must be self-critical when we redeploy the state's same logic.

A second set of questions I have concerns the meaning of “success”. What does it mean to be “stuck” with an AA or community college degree? Why is receiving a graduate degree at a high rate (especially when compared to Asian American groups) a marker of ethnic achievement? When and why has “success” become a foot race?

Yes, a foot race can be the appropriate analogy if academic “underachievement” of Filipino Americans can be attributed to social ills impacting the Fil Am community. Certainly, there are social ills. But also, there might be (and this is where further research is needed) a hyperbolic sense of crisis imbedded in these articles. Just how detrimental is it to the Fil Am community to receive an AA degree at a higher rate than other groups (as the second article demonstrates), rather than a PhD degree? And, what kind of job market are Fil Ams saturating? Is it lower-paid or middle-class? Is a working-class income (or near working-class income… I understand the arbitrariness of these class designations) such a disavowed concept? Or are Fil Ams really at risk of slipping into the abyss of poverty as the articles strongly suggest? Simply put, is there a sense that Fil Ams somehow deserve to align with the upper strata?

What is interesting about Clemente’s article is that in his inquiry about Fil Am’s “underachievement," he does not interrogate so much the impacts of this phenomenon as much as he offers reasons why young Fil Ams are doing poorly in school. He even questions the role of Filipino genetics, a gesture to the practices of turn of the 19th century biological racial classification mentioned above. Clemente asks, is it genetics or environment? His section, “Hiphop over homework” spells out the environmental threat hip hop plays in poor academics.

Hip Hop Pathology and Alternative Knowledge

Perhaps not as dangerous as the genetics card, the environmental argument of “hip hop pathology” poses a sinister blame game nonetheless.

Not being very specific on what he means by hip hop, Clemente paints a (and I say this crudely) “ghetto fabulous” Fil Am way of life, and apparently it has something to do with “Hiphop over homework.” He states,

“The [NaFFAA] study reported that Filipino students focused their energies more on working so as to be able to buy expensive clothes and cars. Also, they were much more into dancing and singing than studying and earning academic awards.”

Clemente goes on to tell a “success story” of Miguel Cutiongco who attends Harvard as a model of a Fil Am who “made it.” Troubling Clemente’s own genetics proposition, the author points out that Cutiangco’s parents are highly educated, having graduated from the University of the Philippines and Northwestern University. Not many young Fil Ams will relate to Cutiongco, even the most academically-talented students who dot the many community colleges, state colleges, and universities around the nation. Cutiongco’s story is just simply not relevant to most Fil Ams.

What many young Fil Ams will relate to is the hip hop story, which many of us know is not antagonistic to academic “achievement.” Especially on college campuses with Filipino student organizations, hip hop has been extremely central in day-to-day life, with dancing in particular forming a well-known social life among Fil Ams in college. At times this social life gets in the way of academics (this we know for sure), but just the same, this social life also helps us survive and thrive. This social life, as many of us can attest to, has given us a sense of meaning, passion, and wisdom. In some of us, it has even sparked a sense of social justice. For example, in a recent interview, Kimmy Maniquis, a choreographer of Kaba Modern in the mid-1990s, notes that Kaba Modern has been a positive space for community development and organizing. Today, Kimmy is a successful community organizer in Long Beach. Kimmy’s is just one of many stories of Fil Am organizers, educators, artists, performers, and even politicians who gained experience and wisdom within hip hop spaces.

Hip hop has been so central to young Fil Am life—to pathologize it would be to disown the rich texture of our community. This disowning would be a fruitless attempt to exorcise the collective soul of Fil Am youth (and for older Fil Ams who have been immersed in hip hop for some time now). Geologic speaks of our community's rich texture in “Commencement Day”,

“Up in assemblies nobody would listen

Instead rock the mixtape and Walkman

Discrete with the headphones

Threaded through the pockets and the sleeve.

You received education through the music you heard.

Cafeteria tables enable beats to occur.”

As the song goes, sometimes school sucks. The blatant historical lies and the irrelevant lessons just don’t interest young people. Geo continues,

“History repeated you repeat it to regurgitate

Slave-owning dead white men.

Folks, you know they make curriculum

Designed to make obedient drones.”

It is important to be clear that Geo is not criticizing the abstract concept of education itself, but rather the politrickin educational institution that fails students, an institution that is directly linked to the “Benevolent Assimilation” (a code for cultural extermination and colonial social engineering) of Filipinos by white Americans during U.S. colonization. The images of Filipino students reciting "Jingle Bells" included in this entry visualizes the absurdity of U.S. education, where white teachers taught songs about snow, Christmas trees, and white American heroes.

Given this history of U.S. educational duplicity, the notion of “knowledge” is already a fraught concept: “knowledge” for whom and for what ends?

And if hip hop is the story we can relate to, can hip hop offer mental "intelligence"? Can our hip hop performances express our corporeal “genius”? Can our “achievements” be gauged by our knowledge as artists, archivists, dancers, emcees, and poets? Rather than “Hiphop over homework” can hip hop be our homework?

In “Commencement Day,” a song that issues a reality-check to new graduates, Geo educates his listeners about material history, a history deliberately obscured for Filipinos, a history that many young Fil Ams seek and usually fail to find in the classroom. Referencing the Colt 45 pistol used to kill Filipinos during the Philippine-American War in the early 1900s, Geo’s lessons address “us” as Fil Ams rooted in history: we are the here today because some of us survived the Colt 45—our bodies are the proof of our survival. And today, alive in the U.S., we are negotiating the idea of “success.”

“Ay yo we made it

45 caliber proof

And your teachers ain’t believe

That you can handle the truth…

As you recognize

The thresholds of negative stress

The crossroads between

Complete failure and success…”

A Filipino student recites "Jingle Bells" as documentary

footage of WWII atrocities overlap her image.

Hip Hop as Culture to Work With, Not Against

Unlike Clemente, I want to be transparent when I use the term “hip hop.” As demonstrated by the Fil Am student organizations, hip hop is not simply a dance style or musical genre but it is also (more importantly) a cultural and social space which is historically-rooted (rather than a pastiche of aesthetic expressions). Hip hop as a space mobilizes community. This vision of hip hop, rather than pathologizing it, offers a productive opportunity to work with Fil Am youth rather than talk down to them.

Instead of demonizing hip hop and disavowing this central form of expression so dear to young Filipino Americans, perhaps we can view it as a legitimate and valuable resource for alternative knowledge. How can the already-existing elements within our culture enhance our “success” and “achievement”, both in academic life and in the “real” world?

It is important to do well in school, and it is my hope that the dismal data in the NaFFAA study improve. There is no doubt about that. But at the same time, I believe that “success“ is not only limited to classroom learning and higher education statistics. Other sources of knowledge, forms of intelligence, and “success” texture the lives of Fil Ams.

"Success" can also be re-visioned as the gaining of knowledge relevant to our own bodies and history--in other words we can successfully "win" back knowledge that has been buried. Unfortunately, "knowledge of self," which is so central to the theme of this blog, usually does not come from the classroom. For some time now, for Fil Ams, “knowledge of self” has come from hip hop.

In the classic track “Blue School,” Geo spits about the rich “wisdom” outside the traditional classroom and in the hip hop space. Hip hop has figuratively become a part of Geo, and his questions are answered on the dance floor:

“In the Blue School, class is in session,

Ask a question, cuz class is in session…

…And now my arteries connect to the amplifier wire

The music make the flames in my inner fire higher

I reinvent the language in the image of a dancer

Contorting where the floor becomes an answer.

“Primitive” Bodies, “Primitive” Knowledge, and the “Blackening” of Fil Ams

Recent journalism touching on Filipino American embodied (as opposed to cerebral) intelligence is not limited to the Asian Journal article. In the controversial 2007 L.A. Weekly article “The Fil-Am Invasion”, which portrays Fil Ams as somehow “taking over” the Hollywood hip hop club scene, paints a picture of Fil Am corporeal excessiveness, an image not too far from Clemente’s “singing and dancing” depiction of Fil Ams. In the piece, Sam Slovick writes,

“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. The DJ is spinning hip-hop, of course.”

As I tackled in a prior entry, Slovick’s fixation with Fil Am “tribal” bodies is connected to white historical fascination with Filipino primitive “otherness.” The Philippine Reservation at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair stands as the paradigmatic example of white “gazing” upon “tribal” Filipino bodies. The Philippine Reservation was about biological racial taxonomy: the marking of Filipinos as “less than” whites and certain Asians (see Robert Rydell's All the World's a Fair: Visions of Empire at American International Expositions, 1876-1916). Slovick’s depiction of Fil Am kids’ “tribal” “dancing around” astonishingly resonates with the historical consumption of Filipino bodies. The only difference is that instead of communing with tribal drums, we are now communing with hip hop.

Slovick and Clemente have effectively replaced a Filipino primitivism with a black primitivism, although the two primitivisms have traveled with each other since the turn of the 19th century‘s practice of racial taxonomy (see Cedric Robinson's Forgeries of Memory and Meaning). For Slovick and Clemente, hip hop has become code for a blackened racial position. It’s something that young Fil Ams “naturally” gravitate towards, distracting them from the important things in life, like school (over)achieving.

A friend to FilAm Funk, sociology scholar Valerie Francisco spells out the “blackening” of Filipinos that Clemente deploys. Her citation of Eduardo Bonilla-Silva’s acknowledgment of this “blackening” is useful here:

“Eduardo Bonilla-Silva wrote a book called Racism Without Racists where he effectively argues that Filipinos belong to the “collective black” in the US racial order and, I would argue, the US social imagination…

We can’t ignore that Filipinos as well as other Asian Americans who are, in a sense, “blackened” (either by US foreign intervention in their countries–Vietnam, Burma, Laos, hella other Southeast Asian countries) aren’t also doing as well as the poster-child (East) Asian groups…”

The True, the Good, and the Beautiful

Fil Ams’ supposed “deviance” from Asian American academic overachievement illuminates how racial categories position Filipinos in curious ways within the landscape of U.S. racial membership.

The task, therefore, may not be about pinning down Fil Am racial membership, either to lament their shortcomings to a model minority Asian Americanism or to demonize their “primitive” black cultural participation. Perhaps it would behoove us to see what is happening “at the bottom”, to understand the intelligence and genius of what is already there. The alternative classroom of hip hop has at many times been the pathway to Fil Am “success”, even if that “success” may not look like a PhD or MD degree.

During martial law, Imelda Marcos funneled billions of pesos to beautification projects to superficially “cover-up” the slums and construct prestigious cultural centers to impress foreign visitors in the Philippines. Imelda’s beautification initiatives ultimately failed, making no long term impact on Philippine society. To this day, she retorts that she only wants to promote the true, the good, and the beautiful. But in reality, Imelda has not been able to face the truth.

Contrasting Imelda’s maxim, hip hop often tells the startling, the bad, and the ugly. In other words, it tells the real truth—raw and naked.

The startling, the bad, and the ugly can be a transformative thing, alarming us to the work that needs to be done. It does not conceal or pretend. It awakens and demands. Hip hop’s alternative knowledge has been a staple of Fil Am life for decades now. How much value is a college degree if one graduates without “knowledge of self”? How many of us are still singing "Jingle Bells"? Geo‘s “Commencement Day” suggests the ongoing education of “knowledge of self”, one that continues even after you toss your graduation cap into the air:

“Now you stand at the summit

Future facing the wind.

Now it’s time to let your true education begin.”

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Sunday Cipher: Takin it back and Free Wheelin'

Remember the early 2000s? Well, if not, let's take you back, way back. This early Blue Scholars music video came out in 2004, and the song was probably made in 2002 or 2003. Meaning, our freshmen in college today were in elementary school back then.

The Blue Scholars are hotter than ever and it is great to see they still carry the same passion from circa 7 years ago. I personally love the first EP. And if you haven't heard "Bluechini," then you haven't heard their pre-EP jams. Late 90s, early 2000s were great years for Filipino Americans doing hip hop music.


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A special shout out goes to John Delloro and Tam Tran. Too many we've lost in such a short period of time. We miss you and love you. Your labor, love, and passion motivate us daily. You feed the fire of social justice and peace.

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War-torn Philippines, the first Vietnam

This is a bit dated, but Nam and Geo spit the gift on this one from Nam's album Exhale. Check out Geo's verse at 1:22. His analysis of Filipinos sa U.S. and their displacement never forgets the moment of U.S. occupation (rather than reiterating a liberal immigrant tale). The reference to The Cry and Dedication Carlos Bulosan's unfinished novel on the leftist peasant movement in the Philippines, speaks to the radical vision of Filipino diasporic sensibilities and counters the American assimilationist narrative that many people read in Bulosan's more famous book America is in the Heart. It seems that Geo is mindful of genocide and violence as structuring the contours of a Filipino diaspora (and of course the beauty in struggle associated with this).

The ending reference to the Philippines as the "first Vietnam" raises important questions about why military occupation in Iraq and Afghanistan are called the "second Vietnam" and not the "third Philippines." This is the violence of historical erasure. "Beats, Rhymes, and Rice" illuminates an otherwise veiled condition.

This song is more than rice. It is the meat in the meal of knowledge.

Nam feat. Geologic, "Beats, Rhymes, and Rice" (2008)

[Geo's first verse at 1:22]

The reason that they killed
Made the reason we arrived
Left the bodies on the field
We the children of survivors
Fam with severed ties
Our plans been set aside
The Cry and Dedication
Our hands will never die
I stand side by side
With the riders of all shades
Heart beats to tropical soil
And shallow graves
The pale called us slaves
And complained
Upon the moment we came
To take back what was stolen
Way back in the day
Until the present
The yellow, brown descendents
Of peasants who held weapons
To defend our essence
So check the work ethic
In the author who writes
One generation removed
From harvesting rice
I stay up nights
Composing my raps
And moms still call the place home
Though she knows
We can never go back
And so I make balikbayan
through song
War-torn Philippines
The first Vietnam

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Artist Spotlight: Mike "Dream" Francisco

Else1 dedicates a sketchbook piece to Dream

A few weekends back I had the privilege of attending the 11th Annual Mighty 4 in Oakland. Representin at the event were Lil John and Vogue 1, two Pinoy dudes I interviewed about 3 years ago at another Mighty 4 event.

Lil John is the brother of Mike Dream. Dream was a Pinoy brother from East Oakland who passed in 2000. Dream had been creating graffiti art since the early 1980s and his style became famous worldwide. The graff game is indebted to his creativity and genious. The hip hop world and socially-conscious folks miss his poignant political messages. This Artist Spotlight is dedicated to Dream, a beloved figure and pioneer in hip hop who stayed loyal to the culture and continues to inspire folks. It would be a huge oversight to not mention Mike Dream when discussing Filipinos in hip hop.

Remembering Mike Dream from Mark V on Vimeo.

Above are a number of interviews I did for my short documentary, Hip Hop Mestizaje. I created this Mike Dream addendum to the film because so many of my interviewees gave shout outs to Dream as an influential Filipino brother in the hip hop hustle. Here are the interviewees in order of appearance: Geologic (Blue Scholars), Davey D (Davey D's Hip Hop Corner), Paulskee (Mighty 4/Rock Force/Zulu Nation), Basic (The Alias Brothers), Lil John (TDK), and Vogue 1 (TDK). Youtube has an abundance of Mike Dream videos. This one has a good interview with the brotha. And apparently he was supposed to be in a Converse commercial.

To learn more about him, here is an excerpt from Dream's article, "Writing is My Life":

WRITING IS MY LIFE
by MIKE DREAM

"Writing is my life. I am a graffiti writer. Whatever people say about the terminology, I write. I've been writing since somewhere around '83...

I went through a consciousness phase in the writing, realizing that 'art for art's sake' was weak and that there was power in the message. I began to understand the roots of my own culture. My Filipino heritage taught me about the struggles and sacrifices of my people for equality in this country, opening my eyes to the racism that surrounds our lives, and all of our brothers and sisters of color. My pieces started to have more content and substance..."
CONTINUE READING...

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Hip Hop at 18th Annual FPAC + Francis M. Tribute

Geologic of the Blue Scholars headlining on the Main Stage @ 2pm on Saturday

It's that time of year again! The 18th Annual Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture (FPAC) is happening this weekend, September 12-13, in San Pedro, CA. And yes, amigos, there will be lotsa hip hop.

Below, check out details on the Francis M. Tribute, crews in street dance showcase, a list of hip hop performers, and a description of the FPAC Tinikling Battle:

Francis M. Tribute
18th Annual Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture
Sunday, Sept. 13, 1:00pm on Main Stage
Featuring performances by: MastaPlann and The Kasamas

Earlier this year we lost an icon in Philippine popular culture. Francis Magalona, also known as Francis M. “The Master Rapper” or the “King of Philippine Rap” left this world as the most prolific hip hop artist in the Philippines. Although iconic, Francis Magalona was still very human. On March 6, 2009, he passed away at age 44 after a seven-month bout with leukemia. At the 18th Annual Festival of Philippine Arts and Culture, MastaPlann (photo at left) and The Kasamas will honor “The Master Rapper” by performing a few of his songs and by paying tribute to a true Philippine hero. MastaPlann is a legendary hip hop group that excelled in the ranks of Philippine hip hop in 1991 and continue to perform today. They were not only friends with Francis M., but also collaborated with him musically. The Kasamas are a hip hop group from San Francisco who carry on Francis M.’s tradition of Tagalog rap and honor the late rapper with his music.

Francis M. will be remembered for his lasting impact on hip hop in the Philippines. His first album Yo! (1990) proved hip hop’s promising potential in the Philippines. Throughout his career, his lyrics embraced Philippine nationalism and addressed urgent issues relevant to Filipino people, such as government corruption, drug abuse, and Filipino colonial mentality.

Francis M. stood at the pinnacle of a handful of Philippine hip hop artists who have come to the forefront of Philippine popular consciousness. He was an exceptional talent, making Tagalog rap acceptable when many rappers struggled due rap’s negative stigma.

Francis M. has been a role model for Philippine hip hop artists. He legitimized Pinoy rap for many rising artists in the hip hop game. In addition to his Philippine-based inspiration, he was influential among Filipino American hip hop performers who turned to Magalona for artistic guidance.

Not only was Francis M. a luminous rapper, his creativity also stretched to Pinoy rock (blending rap and rock with his group Hardware Syndrome), photography, and film. Also, many will remember him as a co-host for the popular variety show Eat Bulaga! In addition, many young Filipinos know Francis M. as a fashion designer for his stylish clothing brand 3 Stars & a Sun.

Come join us at FPAC on Sunday as we honor Francis M. and celebrate his legacy through his music!

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Street dance showcase
Saturday, Sept. 12 @ 3:00pm
Main Stage

Featuring:

PAC Modern + Sheroes + Kaba Modern + Supreme Soul

Yes, this is a perfect space to celebrate the success Filipinos have been having in street dance fame. It's like an ABDC reunion! Tell ya gramama to wipe her drool...panis laway.

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Clockwise: Power Struggle, The Counterparts, All In Motion, and FlowEthics

List of FPAC Hip Hop Performers throughout weekend

(may be incomplete, please let me know if I left you off)

Saturday
Rhythm Natives (2:00 Main Stage)
Geologic (2:00 Main)
The Counterparts (1:00 Gen Stage)
Power Struggle (1:00 Gen)
FlowEthics (2:00 Gen)
Street dance showcase (3:00 Main)
Kasamas (3:00 Gen)
Ethnic Descent (3:00 Gen)

Sunday
Francis M. Tribute feat. MastaPlann and The Kasamas (1:00 Main)
Deep Foundation (1:00 Main)
Kiwi (2:00 Main)
Heart Beat Dance Crew (12:00 Gen)
All In Motion Dance Crew (12:00 Gen)
N2RK8 (1:00 Gen)
Hydroponikz (1:00 Gen)
Carson Street Dance (4:00 Gen)

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FPAC 2nd Annual Tinikling Battle

Sunday, Sept. 13 @ 12:00pm

Main Stage

Tinikling dancers at Jacksonville's Filipino Pride Day. Photo credits: Jeff Enriquez

The FPAC Tinikling Battle is back for a second year! Last year, to the grumbling of some unhappy audience members, only one college tinikling troupe (UC Riverside Katipunan) was able to perform. This year, we have more! This is gonna be carazay!

Come cheer on Cal State University Northridge FASA, Cal State University Fullerton PASA Kaibigan, Cal Poly Pomona Barkada, and the defending champions UC Riverside Katipunan as they battle it out and see who will rock the sticks for 2009!

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Watch Hip Hop Mestizaje now!

I posted up my short documentary "Hip Hop Mestizaje: Racialization, Resonance, and Filipino American Knowledge of Self." I started shooting this film back in 2006, so it may be a bit dated cuz so many things happened since then, such as the rise of new Pinoy/ay artists, new albums dropped, and this whole ABDC phenomenon. The experience of making this film was transformational for me since I got to sit down with talented bruthas and sistas who represent a whole generation of Fil Ams creating and defining the meanings of our diasporic experiences. Plus, really, I'm always a fan first (you betcha I was mad geeked the whole time).

"Hip Hop Mestizaje" congeals Fil Artists from coast-to-coast--from the South, Northeast, West, and Pacific Northwest--and forms a narrative that partially explains why Filipino Americans are so loyal to hip hop: that being our racialized colonial history (and all its funkiness!). Thus, many of us seek to find "knowledge of self" via hip hop, poetry, Barrio Fiestas, or Pilipino Culture Nights. Right? Anyways, "Hip Hop Mestizaje" is a very small part of hopefully bigger projects to come. You can read more about this topic of colonization and racialization in an earlier post from 2008.

Props to all the artists and performers who took the time to talk to me: Kuttin Kandi, Alfie Numeric, Paulskee, Basic, Geologic, and David Araquel. Props to the homey Lakan de Leon for giving some kinds words below. His pioneering film, Beats, Rhymes, and Resistance: Pilipinos and Hip Hop in Los Angeles set it off for many Fil Ams to really take this "Fil Ams in hip hop" thing seriously.

Peep the reviews from close friends and colleagues! Thanks yall!

"Mark Villegas' Hip Hop Mestizaje continues what we tried to do back in the day--document the dynamic contributions of Pilipino Americans to Hip Hop, as well as understand why the artforms within it speak to us so personally and profoundly. While it has been over a decade since our film came out, I am excited to know that Pinoys and Pinays continue to shape and innovate this rich culture, and in turn connect their stories to the larger struggles of all people of color seeking freedom and justice through expression."

- Lakan de Leon, co-creator of Beats, Rhymes, and Resistance: Pilipinos and Hip Hop in Los Angeles

"Mark's short film 'Hip Hop Mestizaje' provides an already hip hop-knowledgable or hip hop head audience with an introductory look at the presence of Filipino-Americans in contemporary hip hop life. It opens the book for folks interested in learning more about their Brown-yet-Asian family who they undoubtedly meet at shows, community events, and on the block...So they may understand just why it is that we're in hip hop in such large numbers, not metal or punk (though we rep rather well in those arenas too)."

-Kristia, type-scholar/writer (featured in my spotlight), Doorknockers

"With a diversity of insightful and prominent voices from across the Filipino hip-hop spectrum, Hip Hop Mestizaje delves into the shared history of struggle that prompted Filipinos in America to embrace hip-hop culture."

-Eric Tandoc, DJ, filmmaker of Sounds of a New Hope, Massive Movement TV

"Hip Hop Mestizaje is a necessary exploration of U.S. Pin@y critique and contributions to popular culture, namely hip hop. Villegas highlights the ways in which U.S. Pin@y experiences align with other communities of color, but more importantly signals the tensions that push the building of Pin@y identity, art, and culture."

-Tracy La Chica Buenavista, Professor of Asian American Studies, California State University at Northridge

"I feel that this is a great documentary piece by my man Mark Villegas that gives you a glimpse into the world of Filipinos in Hip Hop. It shows how Hip Hop has helped them find themselves, and how it became thee medium of expression. This is a must watch for all Filipinos that want to gain a better understanding of why our community is so ingrained in Hip Hop Culture."

-DJ Icy Ice, World Famous Beat Junkies, Power 106

"...Mark highlights...a non-West Coast-centric viewpoint that showcases a varied yet collective experience." CONTINUE READING...

-Ninoy Brown, FOBBDeep
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New flava in ya ear...Pro Brown rips a rhyme and reveals plans for '09

Peep this poetry piece Geologic aka Geo aka Prometheus Brown spits at the "Shirt the Kids" event at San Diego State University in December 2008.

Its worth noting that Geo started out as a poet first before emceeing, rollin with the Isangmahal Arts Kollective circle in Seattle in the late 90s. In the poem, like a time traveler, Geo moves through history and effectively names a few important (but often erased) figures in Philippine history. The bold words are some names you should know. It's a history lesson ya'll. The poem is tight. Aside from solid the content, Geo got some nice rhythmic emphasis in this one. Some of my favorite lines:

"I was both Gabriela and Diego Silang
Lapu Lapu reborn when he talk through the song
I'm Bulosan moving with the tool in my palm
To get the workers and the students and the movement involved
To paraphrase Jose Maria Sison
A hero, serve the people, till the spirit is gone.
I'm Bonifacio
Before Aguinaldo betrayed him
As a child I had beef with both Marcos and Reagan.
I'm like Eman Lacaba
Guerrilla and a poet they will salvage my prose
While my body decomposes.
I'm Viernes, Domingo
From Friday to Sunday I rest
The other days I'm overworked and depressed.."

I'm still trippin on the Silme Viernes and Gene Domingo reference--two foundational labor union leaders in Seattle assassinated because of their organizing and their anti-Marcos politics. They are also apparently days of the week. Here is the poem performed live, followed by an interview with Geo regarding Blue Scholars in 2009:



In the interview part of the video above, Geo reveals plans for 2009. Now that all the touring is done, what will be the new surprises for Blue Scholars? Will their new material be as innovative and soulful as Bayani? What kinda freaky beats does Sabzi have fermenting in the petri dish? Can Blue Scholars politics be as resistant and militant with W out and a fresh new brutha in the White House? Of course, dufus. But for everything else, I guess we'll just wait and see...

(With the video editing, I'm experimenting with layout and such. Notice there is no center...like the multicentrality demanded by the Filipino archipelagic condition. Whoa nelly, don't read too much into it...)

Bambu peaks in at the end. Wonder what '09 looks like for him?

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Here is another Geo poem. Good stuff, but its in an eerily, sexy candle-lit room. Explanations anyone?