A stranger unto ourselves (and others): Know your history!

"...They took over hip hop dancing."

Deon Cole: "Oh, that hurts."

"Linsanity" has reached FilAm Funk. And its also reaching the late night talk show circuits. In an episode of Conan, show writer Deon Cole makes a satirical commentary on Jeremy Lin's dominance: "I'm nervous because I don't want Asians taking over basketball."

As if Jeremy Lin poses a real threat to the "racial ownership" of the NBA. Too funny.

Cole continues, "Like, they took over hip hop dancing. Oh, that hurts."  A picture of Asian males dancing in what looks like the World Hip Hop Dance Championship flashes on the screen.

Cole's anxiety might reflect a real (but ridiculous) fear. But his commentary also elicits a very real need of the Asian American and Filipino American community to know our history. Especially with hip hop, we have already seen this episode of "invasion" before, like in the LA Weekly article on the "invasion" of Filipinos in the Hollywood club scene. 

 Slide from my "Bearing Witness to the Funk" presentation at CSUN

I recently presented on the role of hip hop within the Filipino American (and global Filipino) community at a conference. I emphasized the fact that Filipino Americans have been embedded in and contributors to hip hop culture for such a long time, and that in theory, Fil Am students in college today can have a hip hop parents. And this has been the case for some students. Yeah, old school.

What is surprising, unfortunately, is that many (near 100%) of Fil Am students I have encountered do not know the history of Kaba Modern, the Invisbl Skratch Piklz, the Beat Junkies, Mike Dream, etc. Sadly, many do not even know who Native Guns and Blue Scholars are. Yet, many veteran Fil Am performers are coming out of the woodwork and telling their stories about "back in the day"--before hip hop was called hip hop.

During the conference, I provoked the question: For Filipino Americans, can hip hop be "trad" instead of "fad?"

Given hip hop's deep immersion within Filipino American culture, can it be just as "traditional" (if not more) than the "trad" dances of PCN--which are really liberal interpretations (of interpretations) of so-called Filipino dances?

My post "Grab the mic like I'm on Soul Train" and the OC Weekly article on Kaba Modern attempt to synthesize the history of hip hop dance among Filipino Americans in Southern California, and its direct impact on hip hop dance internationally. If one delves into the history of hip hop dance, you might discover that Asians aren't necessarily "taking over hip hop dancing," as Cole dryly comments, but they have actually been (Filipino Americans at least) the creative minds of the craft for some time now.   
 
So, as Asian Americans like our brother Jeremy Lin continue to gain more recognition and "voice," naturally, let us be proud and encouraging. But it is also critical that we know our own histories, so that when representations of Asian Americans (like in Cole's skit) poke fun at our "invasion," we can feel comfortable that the "truth" is less shocking.

If we are always a stranger unto ourselves, we will always be a stranger unto others. And that is where the real "hurt" resides.

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"Grab the mic like I'm on Soul Train"

Don Cornelius, founder and host of Soul Train

With the news of the untimely passing of Don Cornelius, the founder and long-time host of Soul Train, the world gasped in sadness and shock. As a pioneer who is credited with bringing African American dance and music to the visual consciousness of the nation, Cornelius featured the biggest, baddest RandB, soul, disco, rock, funk, and hip hop acts on Soul Train, which aired from 1971 to 2006.

Dance styles that are staple in street dance circuits today--like popping, locking, and waacking--were often given their first chance to shine nationally on the Soul Train stage. This is certainly the case for Don Campbell and the Campbellockers.

As Asian American street (aka hip hop) dance crews continue to flourish around college campuses, we can say that the Soul Train stage first gave "breath" to the styles that we know and love. What is seen as "hip" and "cool" has a long legacy. In this case, the legacy is foregrounded by a push by Cornelius for more representation of African American creativity and "soul," which wasn't given light on television prior to the inauguration of Soul Train.   

Michael Jackson performing The Robot, which he learned from Soul Train dancers.

Today, Asian Americans and non-Asian Americans alike are advancing an alternative embodiment--a "cool" representation--through the kinetic language of street dance. And their getting noticed.

But, as "Americanized" subjects of U.S. colonialism, Filipinos have always been engaged with American dance culture since military occupation around 1900. In the diaspora, they have been American dance culture's most loyal adherents, as seen by male Filipino taxi dance hall performers in the pre-WWII era, the creation of Kaba Modern in 1992, and the dance crews that are thriving today (with a special shout out to the exploding dance crew scene in the Philippines).

In a recent Orange County Weekly article, Kaba Modern founder Arnel Calvario testifies about the hip hop dance scene among Filipino Americans in Los Angeles in the late 1980s/early 1990s. During a time when hip hop was not widely accepted among members of the Filipino American community as a "Filipino thing," Calvario and other Fil Am hip hop performers (like Funki Junction, as written by Cheryl Cambay in Empire of Funk) had to carve their own avenues of hip hop expression. The article explains:  

"Calvario, a freshman [at the University of California, Irvine] at the time, wanted to use the event [Pilipino Culture Night] to showcase the full Filipino-American experience, his experience, through the style of dance he loved most.

'I went up to the [club] president and said, 'Since it's Pilipino-American Culture Night and so many Filipino Americans do hip-hop, shouldn't we include our current styles as well as our historical, cultural styles?' he recalls.'"

Thus, Kaba Modern was born out of Pilipino Culture Night, which itself has acted as a promotional stage of Filipino representation. Hip hop has since been a necessary "suite" in the many suites of Filipino culture showcased in the PCNs (and Barrios Fiestas, on the East Coast). 

When hip hop became more popular in the mid 1980s, Don Cornelius didn't understand the rebellious cultural genre either. But as a shrewd businessman and so-called representative of African American popular culture, he gave hip hop a shot on his show. Like Filipino American "ethnic absolutists," Cornelius eventually learned to accept hip hop even though he didn't like it. Hip hop's historical march forward was unstoppable, and existing cultural institutions had to deal with it. 

Baby-faced Public Enemy on Soul Train

Don Cornelius does not get it, in an awkward interview with Chuck D and Flava Flav

Bboys on Soul Train

Since the days of America's Best Dance Crew, street dance has not only increased in popularity among Asian Americans but also among the broader general public. But we must keep in mind that Soul Train provided a crucial venue for dancers more than 35 years prior to MTV's "discovery" of the styles. Now, street dance has been a stage--complete with a mic--for many young Asian Americans who are finding a "voice."

Street dance would not be the same without Soul Train. Certainly, the Filipino American/Asian American choreographed dance scene is indebted to Don Cornelius's legacy. Like Cornelius's vision of giving more representation to African American "soul" on TV, Asian American street dancers on TV are grabbing the mic (an ode to Rakim) like their on Soul Train.

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Keep the Bells Ringin! Rock the School Bells 2012

Rock the School Bells is back!  On March 24th, 2012 at Skyline College in San Bruno, CA, the alternative educational conference and concert returns for another round of workshops, performances, and forums.  Last year we at Fil Am Funk presented on documentary filmmaking.  Will the Funk be present again this year?  We shall see.

RTSB organizer and emcee Nate Nevado continues with his firm belief in the power and praxis of hip hop in our communities.  Sometimes traditional schooling has failed us.  For many of us, hip hop has been there to fill the void.  But an event like RTSB that champions the educational utility of hip hop does not come free.

Let's help Nate and the good folks at RTSB make the event happen.  Their IndieGoGo online fundraising campaign is in full swing, having raised to date over $1,000 of the  $15,000 goal.  You can help them reach their goal by February 15th.   

Keep the bells ringin!

What is Rock The School Bells?

Rock The School Bells (RTSB) is a hip-hop educational youth conference based in the San Francisco Bay Area. It includes a comprehensive blend of workshops and performances that enhance students' ability to:

• think critically about current issues in their communities as well as in the world
• read and write about topics related to their life's experiences
• display effective oral and written communication through readings, spoken word and poetry
• understand the historical and cultural aspects of hip-hop and its effect on society, education and personal development

These workshops integrate the four key elements of hip-hop: b-boying (breakdancing), graffiti art, DJing (turntablism) and emceeing.

Some of RTSB's past workshops have covered topics such as:

• Hip-Hop Entrepreneurship
• DJ Fundamentals
• Hip-Hop and Social Justice
• B-Girl It's Your World
• Weapons of Mass Promotions

 READ MORE...

Watch Global Pinay Style

Global Pinay Style from FilAm Funk Productions on Vimeo.

Global Pinay Style documents the rich hip hop dance scene that Filipinas are creating in the Philippines and these dancers' creative influences around the world. Focusing on members of the Philippine All Stars and Stellar, the film shows how Pinays are carving out spaces for a vibrant dance subculture and proving their skills for a global audience.

Welcome to 2012! It's been a year-and-a-half since making Global Pinay Style.  As the women in the film will  attest, so much has happened within that time period: more championships won, more world tours, more music, more albums, the opening of Capital G Shop in Robinson's Galleria where young (and older) people can learn dance moves, and many more updates!  

I hope 2012 has much more in store for Pin@y dancers, musicians, artists, and performers all across the globe!! It's just the beginning.

Bay2LA Beatrock Music Dec. 17th

An evening of music and art; with live performances from the Beatrock Music family and a photo portrait series of Beatrock Music artists by Leo Docuyanan

Saturday, December 17, 2011

@ 2150 Folsom Street, San Francisco, CA 94110

ages 18 and up. Please bring photo id.
$12 door
8pm-12am
*cash-only bar*

PERFORMING LIVE:

Prometheus Brown & Bambu are The Bar
Otayo Dubb
Rocky Rivera
Power Struggle
Kiwi
Bwan
DJ Phatrick on the turntables

Visit:
http://beatrockmusic.com
http://www.leodocuyanan.com/
Video by Tony Rain (http://www.strivefilms.com)

Global Jologs Style: Pacquiao's flexible meanings in the Filipino diaspora

After a recent controversial win over his long-time foe Juan Manuel Marquez and a looming Floyd Mayweather showdown closer than ever (Money announced today a proposed May 5, 2012 fight date), Manny Pacquiao's notoriety shows no sign of waning, even though critics argue that his fighting ability is on the decline. As a congressman in Sarangani Province, the globally popular Filipino icon has had to juggle between his political responsibilities and his sports career.  Was this juggling the cause of his uncompelling and indecisive win over Marquez?

Filipinos in the U.S. and around the world cheered for their champ, with some making the holy pilgrimage to Las Vegas to simply be within Pacman's orbit.  And for Filipinos in the Philippines, waking up early and missing holy mass was a legitimate excuse for the sake of a Pacquiao fight.  The whole world watches when the athlete once featured in Time Magazine's "most influential people" list steps in the ring. 

And the whole world also wears him.

Nike's "Team Pacquiao" brand has become recognizable to many non-Filipinos, with the Philippine flag colors becoming synonymous with the boxer.  For sure, Pacquiao gear (and also Philippine flag-themed gear) has set its place at the table of Filipino American fashion sensibilities. 

Blue Scholars don't mind the jologs

But do the meanings of Pacquiao's image, especially through Pacman fashion, remain the same for all Filipinos around the world? 

I was surprised to learn that in the Philippines, many Filipinos regard Pacquiao as symbolizing "jologs," which roughly translates to "ghetto" or "kitsch." Yes, the heroic Filipino icon represents more dimensions than mass admiration.  But that's just it.  "Jologs" operates as a disparaging marker for people who are seen as mindless and naive (think people who wear too much Steelers or Lakers paraphernalia).  Hip hop too in the Philippines, as I try to show in my film Lyrical Empire: Hip Hop in Metro Manila (also viewable in the right column), represents for a certain segment of Filipinos a supposedly "uneducated" "jologs" spirit.      

For Filipino Americans, Pacquiao is an emblem of Filipino pride, identity, masculinity, and power. Even for non-Filipinos, as Davey D argues, Pacquiao has become a "People's Champion" because of his pro-common people values. 

But there is an undeniable phenomenon among many Filipinos in the Philippines in which they will happily watch the Pacquiao fights, but will refuse to wear Team Pacquiao clothing.  I wouldn't be surprised if the Team Pacquiao merchandise sold in the Philippines was mostly purchased by Filipino balikbayan tourists. 

For some reason, Pacquiao in the Philippines and Pacquiao in the Filipino diaspora isn't the same person.

Certainly a major explanation is class (and the specter of class aspirations).  Since Nike's takeover of Pacquiao merchandise, it has been much more difficult for poorer people in the Philippines to buy expensive Nike-brand Pacman shirts, hence the noticeable (and ironic) lack of Pacquiao clothing among the masa in the islands.  But the middle classes aren't sporting it either.  The real market, it seems, are those Filipinos "out there" across the globe who are unaware of the cultural politics in the mother land, who are oblivious to "baduy," "bakya," or "jologs"--epithets that describe the cultural tastes of the masa.

When Pacquiao makes his post-fight interviews, we might flinch and chuckle.  In the Philippines, the "jologs"-induced cringing moment could not be stronger.  As a major political figure who has little education, limited English (compared to more-educated citizens), and a manic masa following, Pacquiao exemplifies at best an ambivalent figure for many Filipinos in the Philippines, especially among those who have been critiquing civil society and are engaged in the political process, a process in which the champ has quickly assumed a degree of leverage and power (think Erap).    

When Pacquiao sings Karaoke songs on Jimmy Kimmel Live, many Filipinos in the diaspora embrace him for his levity and charm.  Without the "jologs" factor in their vocabulary of Filipino cultural politics, Manny remains harmless.  He might seem as simple as the poor people who sing on variety shows like Wowowee, but he is excused for his pronunciation and grammar "errors" because he is a winner--a masculine embodiment of Philippine nationhood.  

But in the Philippines, the complex and often contradictory cultural politics of everyday life manifests itself when the boxer-legislator appears on the TV screen.  In a poor country, "being" Filipino means much more than wearing the three colors.  When Pacquiao fights his opponents in the ring while also fighting key legislation such as the Reproductive Health bill, the cultural consciousnesses of Filipinos around the world become strangers.

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Filipino American Dance Culture in Suburbia: The Story of Funki Junction

Our project Empire of Funk: Filipino Americans in the Cipher of Hip Hop is continuing to grow. Please check out this compelling article written by Cerritos-native Cheryl Cambay. It time stamps a very critical moment in the development of Filipino American culture in the 1980s and early 1990s. Great work, Cheryl! 

Also, as a reminder, we are taking submissions for poetry, fiction, photography, and visual art for publication on the website until November 28th. Visit our website for more information.

 

Filipino American Dance Culture in Suburbia: The Story of Funki Junction

by Cheryl Cambay

"...I remember rehearsals well – we’d end up at someone’s house and practice in the garages, front yard or the street. At one of girls’ houses - without the mirrors like you see in dance studios, the way we viewed our progress was literally to video tape rehearsals on a camera that was propped up on a tripod and view the footage and make adjustments, corrections, blocking as needed. When we rehearsed at Emil’s house I remember his mother had a glass-mirrored closet that we used to rehearse in front of and it was small so you couldn’t see the whole group from the reflection! Oh the joy of practices at our parents’ houses after school! And whenever we needed to rehearse or perform at a gig we literally had to call each other at home (no cell phones or email) or page each other to make sure we scheduled rehearsals and made ourselves available for the gigs we were asked to perform at. We also went shopping for performance outfits, which consisted throughout the years of overalls, paisley shirts, timberland boots, embroidered hats, parachute pants – what we considered cool and hip at the time!..." [continue]

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