Sunday, February 26, 2017

20 Feet from Stardom: The Untold Stories of African-American Backup Singers

The 2013 documentary, 20 Feet from Stardom follows the once untold stories of the African-American background singers that helped The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, David Bowie, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and dozens of other classic rock artists rise to fame during the 1960s Civil Rights Movement and beyond. Yet, not unlike other occupations in which the hegemony is recognized most often for their achievements, these women seldom reaped the benefits of rock star life even though many of them were close friends with their hegemonic counterparts who were privileged enough to experience them in their entirety. Given the normality of this intersectional divide of benefits along the lines of race and gender, it is not surprising that the entertainment media would only become interested in these women’s stories as a piece of history long after they occurred. Perhaps now, despite the ongoing fight against inequality in the U.S., Americans have come to appreciate the foundation upon which their favorite rock band’s hit records were built.

Part of what makes 20 Feet from Stardom such a powerful media text is its unique representation of African-American women as the crux of hegemonic success in a time when American culture was mostly defined by those in power. Although Civil Rights activists like Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcom X were major players in the counterculture at the time and therefore gained a significant amount of (controversial) publicity in the news media, still hegemonic members claimed credit for much of what was going on in the world of entertainment while the “other,” yet equally gifted intersectional members of society fell by the wayside. Yet the normative mentality of hegemonic success being dependent only on hegemonic actions is challenged through background singer Merry Clayton’s assertion that white male singers couldn’t do anything without sheet music in front of their faces and therefore depended on the African-American women’s expressive vocals and movement to strengthen the quality of their music. In Clayton’s words, the African-American women’s voices “saved rock ‘n roll” because they provided the intensity and freedom of reign that was required to send such a powerful message as “Rape, murder, it’s just a shot away.”

Although African-American women viewed their contributions to classic rock as a God-given ability that stemmed from a culture of worship and was therefore irreplaceable by the hegemony, many of those hegemonic members tended to see them as little more than colorful, promiscuous embellishments on an otherwise pasty stage. This is mentioned in the documentary by several of the African-American women, as they recall sometimes being portrayed as little more than a provocative sex symbol to an onlooking crowd. Most obviously, this discrepancy was caused by the hegemonic producers’ enforcement of a dress code for the dancers, which consisted primarily of short, tight dresses that revealed the women’s underwear if they weren’t careful onstage. In her article, “Eating the Other: Desire and Resistance,” Bell Hooks discusses the social phenomenon of “othering” the African-American women as some kind of primitive sexual being that is somehow less respectable than white women and is therefore more apt to being the object of unthinkable hegemonic fantasies. Due partly to the historic jezebel stereotype, among other degrading ideas about African-American women in relation to white men, these women’s worth and musical accomplishments were seldom publicly appreciated without some mention of the hegemony that “made it possible.” As Herbert Marcuse states in One-Dimensional Man, “Today the ideology is in the process of production itself,” meaning that the ideology regarding what is “normal” and socially acceptable is, and will always be, on a continuum of change that is congruent with the shift in power from the hegemony to its challenging counterparts until there is nothing left to challenge (pg. 11). 

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Zootopia: A Metaphor for Modern-Day Racism Against African-Americans

Disney’s Zootopia serves as both a clever and powerful metaphor for modern-day racism against minority groups in the United States, which has been one of the most successful of its type due to its near-perfect representation of the issue in its complexity. The story, which follows an aspiring bunny cop as she endures systematic discrimination in a traditionally male (and predator) position until she proves her worth through exceptional service, outlines the countless ways in which minority groups are continuously stereotyped and thus discriminated against as a seemingly natural and unavoidable part of their everyday lives.

Nick the fox, for example, is portrayed through the hegemonic (prey) eye as a deviant character whose biology has predisposed him to live a deviant lifestyle. Analogous to the way many members of the white male hegemony—especially those in positions of power—view African-Americans in contemporary American society, Officer Hops forms an instant suspicion of Nick due to his predator identity and the consequential stereotypes that make him a perceivable criminal. This is demonstrated through her use of fox spray as a safety precaution in case Nick were to spontaneously perform an act of violence against her, as well as the inkling that she might be able to catch him in the act of doing something illegal if she were to continue following him. Little did Officer Hops know until halfway through the film that not all predators require such constant scrutiny.

In much the same way, predators are repeatedly referred to throughout the film as former “savages” who would be a threat to society if they had not been socially tamed to behave otherwise. As stated by numerous prey, “it’s in their biology,” which is a favorite scapegoat for members of the hegemonic group when camouflaging their discriminatory thoughts and actions against subordinate groups. This brings to mind demeaning stereotypes that have permeated the co-existence of whites and African-Americans throughout the decades, such as fabricated ideas like the “jezebel” stereotype that have formed as justification for the inherent racism and exploitation of African-American women by white male perpetrators. Most obviously, this social phenomenon is represented in the film when it is revealed that every animal “gone savage” is of various predatory species, which reaffirms the notion that those “others” who are unlike the hegemonic majority are naturally more prone to acting criminally.

Part of what makes Zootopia an enlightening representation of real-life social truths is the implicit bias that is revealed by several predator characters against others of the same marginalized identity. This is demonstrated in part through Nick’s discriminatory comments against the cheating weasel, as well as the lion mayor’s fear that his position might be compromised if it were true that the “savage” acts were a simple matter of biology. In both of these cases, the predators succumb to what Theodore R. Johnson calls “implicit bias” in his article, “Black-on-Black Racism: The Hazards of Implicit Bias,” which refers to the commonality of same-type bias that emerges as a product of socialization in a nation dominated by the white male hegemony. Perhaps it is the “power of the machine” or the danger of “non-conformity with the system” that hinders marginalized groups from being entirely indiscriminate toward one another, if Herbert Marcuse’s insight regarding capitalism in One-Dimensional Man is applied through a sociological lens with respect to racism (pg. 2-3). Whatever the origin, both explicit and implicit bias will continue to perpetrate discrimination as the norm in contemporary American society until it is met with greater oppositional forces like that of a media industry that follows in the footsteps of Zootopia.  

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Sacco: Using Globalization as a Parallel for Current-Day Stereotyping Against African-Americans in the U.S.

In his series, “The Unwanted,” Joe Sacco illustrates the social role that Maltese immigrants played in the globalization process as being a strong parallel to the inequality African-Americans experience on a day-to-day basis in the United States. As if to reveal the typically veiled dichotomous power dynamic between members of the white male hegemony and African-American men in the most obvious way possible, Sacco’s depictions of racist and derogatory one-way interactions are so appalling that it is nearly impossible to turn a blind eye. For example, the illustrations are clearly drawn from the hegemonic perspective (although Sacco is Maltese), which depicts the Europeans as primarily sophisticated, clean and hard-working, while the Maltese are drawn as deviant, animalistic outsiders covered with the hoods of their sweatshirts as though they are worthless and up to no good. This difference in illustration alone brings to light the stereotypes African-Americans endure as a regular part of life in the U.S. when applying for jobs or even merely wearing a hood in public. 

In addition to the outwardly racist depictions of the Maltese through the hegemonic eye, Sacco incorporates stark and highly stigmatic language in order to reveal much of the unspoken racist thoughts that give way to the systematic racism that African-Americans face in their everyday lives as a consequence. In a particularly disturbing commentary, Sacco portrays a white man, “The Visionary,” before a pit of Maltese immigrants saying, “We just dump them into quarries [under] the blistering sun there, the pelting rain, and just drop bread and water to them . . . Within six weeks they’ll be crying to be sent back.” While this illustration and the accompanying language is highly unsettling to any audience of his work, Sacco’s message could not have been more clear and attention-grabbing to those in denial. What stems from slavery, or the quarry in this case, is a continuous deeply-rooted ideological problem that continues to divide the white male hegemony from his African-American counterparts to this day.

Although slavery, the Holocaust, and other historic crimes against humanity are now little more than textbook material to the average American, ideological differences regarding who defines what is “normal” and what is “deviant” continue to permeate the very structures that guide our inter-racial interactions in present-day America. Although a majority of these unequal power dynamics are silent and therefore unquestioned, Sacco and many others will continue to use their talents in order to make sure the African-American narrative is no longer silenced. Only then can the dichotomy begin to loosen.