Hip-Hop, Politics & the Rebel Flag
A hip-hop artist working to better his city
by PREACH JACOBS
It was late one evening — or morning, depending on your social habits — more than a year ago when I got a phone call from my good friend David. It sounded like he was at a party.
He asked me a question and because there was some noise in the background, I assumed I must’ve heard him wrong. I asked him to repeat himself. He did and my ears weren’t failing me.
“Have you ever thought about running for city council?” he asked.
My initial response was to laugh at the idea — although I never thought I couldn’t do it. It was more of a question of fortitude. Campaigns are hard and expensive and usually end up being wars of attrition.
And all my notions about running for office were based on the third season of The Wire, Sean Penn playing Harvey Milk and Obama’s first presidential campaign.
In the real world, I believed hip-hop and politics would never mix in my city. At least, that’s what I believed at first. Now I feel differently.
You have to understand where I’m coming from. I live in Columbia, South Carolina. A place most people know for Gamecocks football and women’s basketball, Jon Stewart poking fun at us … and the Confederate flag that flies in front of our state capitol on Main Street.
Historically, Columbia has not exactly embraced hip-hop in its venues, festivals and publications. It’s hard enough being a hip-hop artist, publisher and programmer in this town. Being involved in hip-hop and running for city council seemed, to me, even harder.
I am hip-hop. Growing up, my role models were from The Native Tongues and A Different World. When I was a kid, the radio stations played everyone from NWA to the Beastie Boys, Public Enemy and De La Soul. I loved it all. The diversity and social consciousness of the music of my youth give me a perspective younger hip-hop fans might lack today.
We had “Yo! MTV Raps,” “Rap City’ and Spike Lee. Seeing Do the Right Thing for the first time was my very first taste of the power of hip-hop and politics.
The Spike Lee-directed video for Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” did three things that really stuck with me. It showed organized crowds of young, beautiful black people marching peacefully with signs bearing the images of Nelson Mandela, Malcolm and other civil rights heroes. It was a song by a rapper that was socially conscious. Finally, it featured an undeniable beat and hook.
I was in love. It wasn’t a song as much as it was a call to action, for me and many others. “FIGHT THE POWER!”
These are the images that I internalized as a fan. So the idea of hip-hop culture being socially conscious wasn’t a leap for me, but that didn’t mean that I was in a hurry to get involved in politics in my city, a place that has a hard time embracing things outside of college sports.
Truthfully, one of the things that convinced me to get wholeheartedly involved was Ferguson — and rapper Killer Mike’s arguments after the terrible events in that Missouri town.
When megastars like Kanye West and Jay-Z fell silent during the summer after Ferguson and the “I can’t breathe” outrage, Killer Mike was not only one of the few hip-hop voices speaking out — he actually had a unique and valuable perspective, too.
Many black Americans reacted to Ferguson with the same angry sentiment — “F the police!” But Killer Mike went on news programs and said that while he understood that sentiment, he didn’t blindly agree with it.
He mentioned that his father had been a cop and also a little-league coach, a man who was deeply involved in his community, bringing up the next generation. Killer Mike proposed that if we as the younger black generation want better community policing, then some of us should become cops.
The idea stunned me. It made me think about politics — and city council in this southern city — in a new way. Become the thing you want to change.
I want to help end the present disconnect between community and authority. I want to exert what little influence I have — as an artist, event organizer and community activist — to effect some meaningful, positive change.
That real change is going to happen in two ways. We have to convince young people that their votes matter — and get them to the polls. And we need leaders who look like these young voters. It’s time for hip-hop and politics to mix. It’s time for a candidate like me.
Look, I’m not a politician. I’m a public servant. I’m not really the candidate — the movement is the candidate. Together, we can make our communities better. This is why I overcame my initial hesitance. And why I’m now running for city council in Columbia, South Carolina.
For more information, go to www.preachforcolumbia.com
