Black Identity, Hip Hop, and Hair
By Yende Mangum
Being a Black artist in America means just that. And it comes with challenges.
As a being, we are who we are. We represent our families and environments, and we present as a conglomerate of the various influences of those around us. Most importantly, we are being, we are constantly existing. Thus presents the challenge of self identity, of agency, of free will, of destiny and destination.
As a Black individual, we are just that. This becomes a challenge when someone associates something with your Blackness that you do not. This becomes a hindrance when limits are placed upon your freedom of expression as a result of the color of your skin or the texture of your hair. Hair growth is a natural, biological process with an intimate connection to the psyche. Hair grows as the body intends for it to grow, and we shape it externally to cater to our own stylistic preferences. When hair is seen as the subject of another person’s judgement and control, it limits ones freedom of expression and being.
As an artist, we create and express. This comes in any and every form. Every action we take and decision we make is a manifestation of who we are, what we think and believe. This can all be construed as art. Life is creation. Creation is art. Life is art.
The Black individual in America has long seen one’s art subjugated, or placed in a box—similar to the restrictiveness of American oppression of the Black individual. This is what makes “rappers” out of Black individuals who enjoy creative verbal expression, assigning one an identity that only reflects one component of one’s existence. This is what made slaves of the Black human centuries ago, robbing the individual of one’s voice. This is what made the monolith of the “Black community,” again dismissing the voice of the individual.
Over a year ago, I conducted a thematic content analysis of rap lyrics from Hip Hop artists such as J. Cole, Lil Uzi Vert, and Jay Z, to name a few. I noticed that their lyrical focuses change in tandem with their hairstyles, however I originally mistook this as a causative relationship between the two. Instead, what I found was similar manifestations of the birth of agency, a change in each individual’s self-perception. The freer they allowed themselves to be, the freer they allowed their hairstyles to become, and similarly, the freer they allowed their lyrics to become.
I would like to conclude by including myself in this study. I have been a Black artist for many years, and I have often tried to categorize myself (and been categorized externally) by way of genre in music. I now realize that this was the flaw that led me into a loss of self, a loss of agency, a loss of appreciation for the hair on my head. The moment I recognized myself as an individual, free from the control of external judgement, was the moment I was able to relocate my true self, both musically and spiritually.
This is the first article I have written with the intent of publication. Similarly, I plan to release my first solo musical album soon. I hope that each of these media offer an honest expression of self through their respective means of creation. Most importantly, I challenge you, the audience, to locate the many Hip Hop references in this essay. You may find more than I intended to include!
Yende Mangum is currently a sophomore at Princeton University and grew up in Philadelphia, PA. He is a classically trained pianist and member of the group Mystic Prize.