AlumKnights Magazine
nothing here was forced and it was absolutely refreshing. The intellectual atmosphere wasn’t manufactured through modernized amenities or appliances, but rather established by the scholars, learners, and educators that represent this local community. Unfortunately, my retrospective daydreaming session abruptly ended after hearing the clang of fine China on my table. To my surprise, my roasted chicken sandwich had arrived and when I looked up, so had Professor Kumanyika. After an impromptu introduction, we headed towards the lounge and began talking.
Uncle Bobbie’s Credit: Tyler Brown
before I knew it, it was Friday morning and we were driving to Philadelphia together. After two quick hours, we arrived. At the corner of Germantown Avenue and East Church Lane, distant from the Illustrious skyscrapers ofdowntown Philadelphia, humbly stood Uncle Bobbie’s. An afro-centric bookstore located in the metropolis of Germantown, Pennsylvania. Arriving an hour early, we parked next to Saint Luke’s Church, and waited for 3:00 p.m. Unsurprisingly, about 15 minutes before the interview, my mother sarcastically asks, “What if he asks how you got here? Would you tell him your mom brought you?” Contemplating her ill-timed questions, I seriously considered whether lying in front of the church would result in negative karma. I didn’t want to tell the truth, but I didn’t want to lie. So, instead of completely disowning my mother, I managed to concoct a compromise in which she became my aunt. Thankfully, she agreed. I exited the car and began walking towards Uncle Bobbie’s. Upon entering, I was serenaded by Michael Jackson’s Billy Jean over the PA system. 32
After a quick glance around, I ordered a roasted chicken sandwich and sat by the glass window overlooking Germantown Avenue. The street itself, embedded with cobblestones, contained tracks for streetcars, reminiscent of those found in the suburbs of San Francisco. In a park, to the right of Uncle Bobbie’s, stood an enclosed stone monument that read, “Philadelphia, The City of Brotherly Love.” My fellow patrons, a spectrum of cultural, generational, and ethnic diversity, populated the stools, couches, and sofas that scattered the room. A few faces were buried into academic textbooks, studying with fervor and focus. Others chatted over coffee and pastries, while skimming the shelves for new books. The social scenery was completely different here, almost cathartic. Even for me, as someone who isn’t an avid reader of books or a fan of coffee, I felt compelled to participate and assimilate. You see, Uncle Bobbie’s served coffee, but it wasn’t Starbucks. The counter sold sandwiches, but it wasn’t Panera Bread and although the shelves stored books, it didn’t resemble Barnes & Nobles. Like a Ferrari’s naturally aspirated engine,
Professor Kumanyika was born in Harlem, New York, but spent his formative years periodically traversing the cities of Baltmore, Maryland and Newark, New Jersey. For Kumayika, it certainly was a Tale of Two Cities, considering that the distinct rhythms of Baltmore and Newark heavily influenced his musical pursuits. Not to mention, his beloved father, a connoisseur of superb music, always had a classic tune in the background. The percussion of various musical genres regularly emanated from household radios and car speakers, courtesy of WBLS and KISS-FM.
May 2019
which transformed Baltimore into a media circus. The seemingly overnight influx of foreign dope and exotic firearms ravished communities and demoralized the city. But the genre of hip hop didn’t promote the carnage.
Professor Kumanyika explained that in its infancy, hip hop’s lyrical content reflected a conscious reality in which local artists challenged drug usage, community violence, and social depravity. Originally, it served as a therapeutic alternative to animosity and outrage Undoubtedly, modern hip hop has evolved to include different subgenres, ethnicities, and cultures that deviate from its conscientious origins. For hardcore traditionalists, this unfiltered inclusion is concerning. But for Professor Kumanyika, these changes reflected, as he said, “symptoms of a deeper structural problem.” Suggesting that the culture of hip hop, like other grassroots cultures, has been commodified to appease generalized audiences. In 1995, Professor Kumanyika, along with four friends, established the Spooks, a Philadelphia-based rap group with an unconventional style. The name was controversial. It was a double entendre that referenced Sam Greene’s novel, The Spook Who Sat by The Door, but it also served as a social commentary. The term, “spook,” was a derogatory phrase used by racists to describe African Americans. In addition to their theatrics, their thought-provoking and theoretical content drew comparisons to the Fugees.
“Symptoms of a deeper structural problem.”
But surprisingly, it was his older sister that introduced him to the genre of hip hop. Thus, establishing the rhythmic roots of Chenjerai Kumanyika, also known as Hypno. But before he adopted the persona and moniker of Hypno, Chenjerai was a quirky sixth grader at Rowland Park Elementary in Baltimore. Here, on the blacktop, he encountered the competitive sport of battle rapping. Head-bobbing middle schoolers regularly huddled around aspiring emcees as they battled for playground supremacy. Chenjerai composed lyrics, but never shared them with anyone except for David Branch, a close friend. So, instead of allowing Chenjerai to remain a bystander, his friend promptly peer pressured him into joining the circle. He lost.
However, Professor Kumanyika humbly admitted they were just a less talented version. Nonetheless, after a prolonged period of underground irrelevancy, they signed a record deal with Sony. A few years later, their single, Things I’ve Seen, steadily eclipsed the competition, and before he realized it, the Spooks were relatively famous. The cycle of touring, television appearances, promotional events and celebrity partnerships was in full effect. The foreseeable future seemed promising.
But rather than self loathe in defeat, he dedicated himself to the craft and developed a lyrical skillset that would uplift and define his career. Unfortunately for Baltimore, the trajectory was downward. It’s defining characteristics were altered by the crack epdemic that plagued the city in the late 1980’s. News outlets produced sensationalist headlines
But by 2000, Professor Kumanyika noticed a disruptive shift occurring in the music industry known as digitization. This digital phenomenon resulted in company executives utilizing industry panic to restructure copyright laws to monopolize the market. Thus, rewriting the rule book with new loopholes and technicalities and forever chang-
http://alumknights.rutgers.edu/
33
