Skip to main content

Christopher Chien Prompt #6

“We gon’ be alright!” The crowd’s unrelenting chants fill the streets around Cleveland State University. Minutes ago, they were attending a Black Lives Matter conference. Now, they were being pepper sprayed by a transit officer as they attempted to block a squad car carrying a 14-year-old Black child from making its way to jail. The July 2015 incident, captured on video, is a striking act of resistance in response to the racially-charged abuses of power committed by U.S. police, its power only accentuated by the rallying cry of the protesters.

Just four months earlier, Kendrick Lamar releases his politically-charged magnus opus To Pimp a Butterfly. The album’s themes of Black empowerment and resilience garner widespread attention and acclaim, swiftly entering and cementing its place within pop culture discourse. Among its singles include “King Kunta” and “Alright”, both of which receive music videos in the subsequent months; as of November 2019, each video has over 100 million views on YouTube. These videos represent the efforts of Kendrick to re-aestheticize Compton within popular discourse, reclaiming the public image of his beloved hometown and reframing it on his own terms. While both videos express a consistent and powerful message of hope, they have drastically different tones, each corresponding to the song that inspired them.

“King Kunta” is Kendrick at his most defiantly braggadocious. On the track, Kendrick boasts about his success to his former enemies in the hood, likening himself to an empowered Kunta Kinte out for revenge. Its music video takes a similarly triumphant tone, shuffling between different locations within Compton filled with crowds dancing and celebrating along with Kendrick. He’s seen driving around the streets in a vintage car, patronizing the local convenience stores, dancing atop a billboard while surrounded by his friends. While “King Kunta” plays like a never-ending party, “Alright” is decidedly darker. As Kendrick tries to outrun the police as well as his own demons in his lyrics, the video shows him again riding down the streets of Compton, leaving a trail of cash behind him. He levitates, dances atop a stoplight, and eventually get shot by a cop with a finger gun. Yet there’s never a moment in the video where he’s not smiling, even as he plummets from the stoplight to his death.

The power of these videos lies in their nuanced depictions of Compton, directly challenging the inaccurate and essentializing stereotypes that have plagued the city. Historically, media representation of the African American experience has either sanitized the harsh reality of ghetto life or has portrayed escape from the ghetto as reasonably achievable through hard work (Alper, Leistyna, & The Media Education Foundation, 2005). On the flip side, conservative media figures and politicians have used the provocative work of artists like N.W.A. to perpetuate an image of Compton and its residents as violent, gang-dominated, and immoral.

The videos for “King Kunta” and “Alright” capture a much more empowering perspective of Compton, without washing away the gritty complexities of the street life. On the one hand, there are a multitude of scenes within both videos evoking themes of Black success and power within the “hood”. A particularly powerful image in “King Kunta” shows Kendrick kneeling atop a golden throne placed in the driveway of a neighborhood house, surrounded by his crew. Another scene shows the living room of a house, its walls adorned with framed pictures of Black icons like Martin Luther King Jr. and Barack Obama. In “Alright”, Kendrick and his friends freestyle in a car carried not by wheels, but by uniformed police officers. A common theme found in both videos is Kendrick’s physical elevation. In “King Kunta”, Kendrick performs to a hyped-up crowd atop the famous and now-defunct Compton Swap Meet. In “Alright”, he flies through the streets of Compton and lands atop a prominent stoplight, continuing his performance. These powerful images of elevation seem to evoke transcendence, as if Kendrick’s no longer affected by the troubles of living in the hood.

Yet, neither video shies away from depicting the hardships and realities of Compton. The braggadocious nature of both the lyrics and visuals of “King Kunta” are juxtaposed with the location of Compton itself. Rather than a rise above the ghetto, Kendrick frames his success as an extension of Compton’s success; by filming at well-known spots within the city like the Compton Swap Meet, Kendrick glorifies his hometown rather than transcending it. Similarly, “Alright” juxtaposes a happy and successful Kendrick with images of police brutality and violence, including his own death at the end of the video. In his re-aestheticization of Compton, Kendrick ensures that both images of success and hardship are present, capturing a fuller scope than previously depicted in mainstream media.

However, the videos themselves can only have as much power as the discourse surrounding them. As Fiske wrote in “Commodities and Culture”, pop culture is “found in its practices”, and “characterized by the creativity of the weak in using the resources provided by a disempowering system while refusing finally to submit to that power” (Fiske, 1989). When Kendrick’s videos entered the pop culture discourse, they began taking on a new, more widespread meaning. As To Pimp a Butterfly’s message continued to spread across the U.S., #BlackLivesMatter protesters began chanting the hook of “Alright” as a mantra of hope in the face of injustice. As Pharrell Williams delivered the plainspoken, yet iconic lines – “We gon’ be alright!” – that same energy was channeled by protesters all across the country. As the chants in Cleveland raged on, the true impact of the pop culture created by Kendrick came to fruition. His re-aestheticization of Compton went beyond the city itself. His hometown struggles became a universal symbol of Black hope.


References 
Fiske, J. (1989). Commodities and culture. In Understanding popular culture. New York, NY: Routledge. pp. 23-47. 

Smith, J. Alper, L. Lesityna, P. Jhally, S. (Director). (2005). Class Dismissed [Video file]. Media Education Foundation. Retrieved November 13, 2019, from Kanopy. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sarahi Franco-Morales - Beyond the Meme: Understanding the Latine Vote

The 2024 election results disappointed Harris supporters and Donald Trump opponents. What surprised me most was the shift in Latine voters. I didn’t need the news to dramatize this; my TikTok was flooded with videos of Latines expressing their disappointment. An example on the left reads: “Apparently, most of our generation 3 forgot everything our parents had to go through,” showing what many Latines would feel connected to. As a daughter of immigrants, this broke my heart. Sharing it with my Latina roommate, whose feed mirrored mine, we felt embarrassed by our generation's political shift. Over time, the videos became vengeful memes against the Latine Trump supporters, portraying the community as disconnected from its roots. But as I scrolled, I realized this couldn’t be the whole story—Latines for Harris existed too. Yes, as a Latina who doesn’t see Trump as an ally to the Latine or the immigrant community (valuable to the United States), it was disappointing to see 45% of Hispan...

Jessica Bobman Prompt #4

Hannah Meloche, a 20-year-old from Michigan, has always loved being in front of the camera, first joining YouTube in 2013 (The Fact Ninja, 2018). After finding a love for video making, she continued to create content, and her following has grown significantly ever since (Hanson-Firestone, 2020). She currently has over 2 million subscribers and has even created her own jewelry line, known as Starlite Village (Weiss, 2019). Because of YouTube, Hannah Meloche has also grown her image by becoming a model and brand ambassador for several different brands (Hanson-Firestone, 2020). Meloche’s channel consists of video logs, or vlogs, that show her everyday life as well as her love for fashion and beauty. Videos of her everyday life include content of her eating, walking, and relaxing (Meloche, 2021). While vlogs can take several days to edit, Hannah is consistently able to post a video once a week, keeping her fans engaged. Meloche’s audience consists of young teen girls, evidenced through her...

Lily Grace - Chappel Roan Fans Stay Loyal After Last-Minute Cancellation

Chappel Roan dropped out of the sold-out All Things Go music festival on Friday, September 27th, the day before headlining. But did her fans lash out? No, they flooded her with love! This is because they support her taking care of her mental health, a fanbase switch in popular culture that must continue.  This outcome is shocking when we consider how celebrities have been treated historically. Graeme Turner in Approaching Celebrity Studies discusses the idea of celebrity as industry. He argues they become a product that “can be manufactured, marketed and traded – and not only by the promotions, publicity and media industries” (Turner, 2014, p. 14). The human is lost in the business, seen only as a commodity to churn out revenue. Considering only the productivity of a creator, canceling a sold-out show last minute would be inexcusable. But, fanbase culture has shifted in the way that they consider celebrity humanity. So, Roan’s fanbase sticking by her side despite the sudden break m...