Exploring th' Exclusif fusion `tween Banji Realness and the culture it imitate

There are several attributes common to hip-hop music and the culture inextricably connected to it. Homophobia is one of them. But I intend to question the validity of such a pessimistic view. For I believe that hip-hop culture has the ability to transform itself as easily as the styles and elements of the industry continue to transform it. Hip-hop music, like jazz, is a musical form akin to the conditions of transformation, innovation, creativity, improvisation, and fusion that were neccessary for its inception. And I, like an overwhelming number of persons my age, am a product of the culture which represents hip-hop music. Having attended concerts of all sorts from Run DMC to De La Soul, Tribe Called Quest to Mc Lyte, I consider myself to be as familiar (if not more) than the average person who claims to be down with hip-hop music. I am African-American. Hip-Hop speaks to my experience as a Black man who manages to persevere in a nation which often greets me with hostility and an often false and presupposed knowledge of my intentions, of my very existence and experience -- a nation where nappy hair and dark skin is often thought to be synonymous with criminal behavior and lack of intellectual faculties. Identification with hip-hop, to some extent, is connected to the very essence of my blackness and my manhood.

I am also gay. You know, a faggot-sissy-punk-batty boy-muthafucka. My love interests are other men. That hip-hop music is not a integral component of black male socialization can seldom be doubted. Yet "faggotry" and hip-hop are seemingly mutually exclusive paradigms. One seems to maintain that clout, loot, skillz of some sort, and a hard core "image" is central to one's being. The other erroneously reminds most black men of effeminate white men aimlessly marching for "queer rights" and transgendered persons like RuPaul. To wholly embrace both cultures, to "explore the tension inside the sweetness," is to maintain a black gay identity which does not perpetuate the all-to-common images of Living Colour's "Men On Television."

I love hip-hop music. And simultaneously, I feel unequivocally blessed to be gay. Yet the struggle to integrate the two is a battle only a few black gay men attempt to fight. I sometimes feel like I am a human manifestation of a strange fusion. I seek to legitimize being gay and loving hip-hop music, yet upon further examination I come to the realization that to subscribe to the view that the two cultures are paradoxical is to perpetuate the very myths which feed the stereotypes I seek to vanquish. Upon in-depth examination of hip-hop culture, I have discovered that in many ways hip-hop culture and black gay culture have some interesting and profound similarities.

Notice music videos by "real men" which completely exclude members of the female gender. "Slam", by Onyx for example, is many queens' ideal black gay club scene. A bunch of ruff-neck bald headed boys jumping on top of each other non-reluctantly and aggresively. Yet because the scene transpires within the limits of the hip-hip paradigm, the actions expressed are deemed a legitimized expression of manhood. The scene could be accurately characterized as homosocial. But one falsely assumes that it is impossible for homosexuals to mingle onto the set, as the men in the video did not have lisps or walk with a swish and bent wrist. Fact: six of my boyz from Queens (who are gay men also) were on that set. I am certain that they had madd fun.

Straight boys just don't get it. Hip-hop culture is to a large extent a culture of facade which remains consistent with the many overexaggerated macho images of black manhood generally. For example, walking with a pimp in one's step is learned, it is not innate. Sure, after one does it for some time it comes quite naturally. However, the aforementioned example of fabrication, as well as many others, are important means to a black male's unchallenged participation in hip-hop culture. And which black men best master the art of caricature, masking, passing, facade: Damn skippy -- black gay men. Those black gay brothers who are effeminate are the minority of black gay men. They seldom have to "come out of the closet" because their closet doors are transparent. People assume they are gay and the act of coming out sometimes seems redundant. Banji boys (as we call the undetectable sort of black gay men in "the life") have a much easier time interacting with the men in hip-hop culture. Few of us ever come out because the benefits of straight life are innumerable in the hip-hop community, in the black community in general. We venture into hip-hop joints like New York City's Soul Kitchen and with our "gaydars," can identify others of our sort. Those of us who master the art of being "real" (not acting stereotypically gay) sometimes go on to become big names in the industry. Others of us are content with forming those all-boy freestyle dance circles where the creativity and uniqueness borne out of our queerness help us to out-dance the best.

When the joint is rocking. That is, when the party is live, Banji boys are the first to let the DJ know -- be it with a cheer of "heyeyey ho" or an "aahite." When the tracks are wack we are the first to protest by literally falling to sleep on the dance floor. Hip-hop culture lives for us and yet does not acknowledge our existence. What is most unfortunate is that most of us cannot participate in the culture without subscribing to dysfunctional roles of caricature and silence. Those of us who do so openly must be careful of Buju Banton wannabes who seek to cause riff -- step to a person who they think might be soft, a punk. I try not to worry. Homophobic elements of hip-hop culture are increasingly being criticized by those who participate in it. This gives me hope that assumptions of straight personhood can be replaced by respect for differences in sexual orientation. I increasingly find that "real" straight men are unbothered by my sexual orientation. But homophobia more often than not remains to hip-hop what racism is to skinheads. Like the skinheads, many of the men in hip-hop culture seem unable to separate their cultural existence from fears or traditions which maintain that gays are unacceptable and inappropriate. I can only have faith that change is within our reach. I preserve hope each time I hear phat lyrics by brothers like Souls of Mischief who espouse beliefs like "Live and let live."

Until hip-hoppers can peacefully reconcile sexual difference, I have to continue to watch my back. I generally feel safe. I gots madd kids like myself who have yet to verbalize their longings. They got my back if some insecure homophobic homosexual (or heterosexual) should try to step to me. A preoccupation with such matters demonstrates why dialogue about homophobia in hip-hop must begin with those who produce, consume, and participate in a culture we all seek to maintain. We live in a society which is hypocritical if it denies that hip-hop accurately reflects an American reality through a unique and often legitimate form of expression. And it is not completely inaccurate to say that in America, homophobia is as American as apple pie.