Small City Culture: A High School Class Teaches Students about Hip-Hop

Maria Navolio
The Coil
6 min readAug 13, 2018

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An isolated smalltown high school in Virginia teaches students the cultural significance and history of hip-hop.

Despite the constraints of a government administration that seeks to devalue and dismantle the arts in our schools, one small high school classroom in the isolated city of Lynchburg, Virginia — 40 miles from the nearest interstate highway — demonstrates that innovative approaches to teaching and encouraging self-expression allows young people to grow and to feel validated. Monday through Friday, during the academic year, 23 students gather in teacher Casey Wood’s Exploring Hip-Hop class at E. C. Glass High School to explore the cultural significance and history of hip-hop music. On what Wood calls “Free-Style Fridays,” brave new voices gather around to exchange ideas and original lyrics accompanied by a beat of their choosing. Under Wood’s leadership, these young people learn to understand the world around them and to find their own voices by writing, rapping, analyzing pivotal works of the genre, and composing songs.

Casey Wood is a student favorite at E. C. Glass. With some students calling him a “teddy bear,” he stands at over six feet tall and has long hair that he ties back into a trendy bun. He is an extremely friendly father of two who plays rock and funk on the weekends with his band, The Ruckus. The back wall of his classroom displays a student-made Macbeth-inspired mural. Next to that, a Foo Fighters poster. Under that, enlarged photos of the Beatles from 1964 and Muhammad Ali. On the whiteboard, handwritten the day after the 2016 election, are Kendrick Lamar’s lyrics from the song “Alright,” simply: “We gon’ be alright!” Wood sees the merit of hip-hop and how it provides a platform for catharsis, protest, and personal growth.

From studying the work of hip-hop artists Grandmaster Flash to 2Pac to Lamar, students learn how the world was shaped by one of America’s most provocative and motivating art forms. As I sit in the back of Wood’s classroom and report on the efforts of these pupils, the class is currently working on a storytelling unit. They have created a visual storyboard of the Lamar hit album, Good Kid, M. A. A. D. City, complete with every track and character. Wood said he approaches this particular unit “with the goal of analyzing elements of storytelling, such as character arcs, conflict, premise, crucible, etc.” The students may use the lessons they learn to tell their own stories. Whether it be for a concept rap album or something as simple as the dinner table, these students are learning how to make their experiences heard in a climate that often discredits the opinions of its youth.

Storytelling is not the only way Wood shows Lynchburg City Schools, and potentially the country, that hip-hop is far more than just hip-hop. The art form has become a vehicle for other more traditionally academic subjects, such as history and geography. When I got in touch with Wood, he detailed what he called an “eye-opening” lesson on geography. Both Wood and his students were enlightened on just how important perspective and background are to understanding art. From the Bronx to the Bay Area, students researched more than 20 styles of rap to learn how historical events and localized culture can change artists’ worldview in different regions.

Fifty-five percent of the students at E. C. Glass identify as people of color. Forty-three percent of the student populous is eligible for free or reduced lunch. I attended E. C. Glass from 2013–2017; now in college at the end of my teenage years, I harbor pride for the school that made me who I am today. A neighbor of mine once called it “the school of the ‘haves’ and ‘have-nots,’” defining the school by its distribution of wealth. Despite an income gap that divides students economically, my former high school is not a “have-not” of culture. Wood’s Exploring Hip-Hop transcends the boundaries of race and socioeconomics. Speaking with his students, I felt a strong sense of admiration for unity, poetry, art, and community. Wood said he was surprisingly met with almost no resistance from the school board when he presented the idea for the class; he pleasantly said, “[The Lynchburg City School Board] has been 100 percent supportive, and I couldn’t ask for more.”

Kyle Flint, 18, is a senior in the class. Sporting long, blond locks and a Led Zeppelin T-shirt, Flint is a young man of classic rock and roll, not hip-hop. He said, “Mr. Wood originally was the reason I signed up” — a testament to Wood’s supportive nature and lively teaching style — but as a lifelong lover of music, Flint wanted to “expand his musical horizons.” He called his first Free-Style Friday “a thrill, to say the least.”

I addressed a big question: “How do you find yourself responding to the politics and violent underpinnings of the genre?” Flint called it “sobering,” admitting there are some aspects about the world he will never understand. He said listening to the stories of racism, violence, injustices, and poverty that inspired the works the class studied has allowed him to sympathize better with the art as an ally. With his personal favorite being Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power,” Flint’s anecdotes serve as an example of how Exploring Hip-Hop can appeal to any student. The class’ influence reaches across boundaries of musical tastes, lending itself to multiple demographics. He explained that the majority of students end up agreeing with each other about social issues that surface throughout the lessons. They analyze the humanity of the art to come to a mutual understanding about the injustices of the world. When the students tell their own stories on Free-Style Fridays, they learn to practice consideration for each other’s unique experiences, exemplifying that young people are mature enough to understand cultures and stories different from their own.

Wood has taken a rather inspiring stance on the usual criticisms in the language and subject matters of his beloved art form. For some of the kids at E. C. Glass, the hot-button issues of casual debate at white middle-class dinner tables are the everyday reality for below-the-poverty-line students, as well as kids of color. We are told not to bring up guns, politics, or religion in our day-to-day lives, from the classroom to the living room. Wood, however, provides a safe space for students to explore controversial ideas, saying he actively encourages students to “develop their own voice to speak out.” It is no coincidence that students were prompted to analyze pieces such as “The Art of Peer Pressure” by Lamar, exploring themes of alienation, prejudice, poverty, and addiction.

Students across the nation live in the environments that reflect the need for hard-to-swallow content. School systems of America have the power to provide an intellectual sanctuary to coping students. Teachers, given the opportunity, can help raise a generation of mindfulness. “Hip-Hop is a direct reflection of the world that the artists live in,” Wood said. “If we want to make the art better, we’ve got to make the world better.” He urged other teachers not to “be afraid to show the kids what your passion is,” and he challenges them to “try to understand why kids love what they love. Even if you ‘don’t get it.’” After all, teachers are just students who grew up.

MARIA NAVOLIO, born in the small city of Lynchburg, Virginia, is a first-year college student. Studying communications, film, and writing at Randolph-Macon College in Ashland, Virginia, she hopes to follow in the footsteps of the journalists and filmmakers who inspired her to pursue the art of storytelling.

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Maria Navolio
The Coil
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Aspiring film-maker and journalist, college human, amateur nerd