| SPECTACULAR MAGAZINE |
EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW:
Dr. Mark Anthony Neal
The Post-Soul Aesthetic, the [N] word, the death of Hip Hop, Spike Lee and Black Feminism
Mark Anthony Neal is a professor of Black Popular Culture in the Department of African and African American Studies at
Duke University. He is the author of four books including, That’s the Joint!: The Hip-Hop Studies Reader (2004) and one
of my personal new favorites, New Black Man: Rethinking Black Masculinity (2005). Most importantly, he’s active and
visible.
[Bro. Rightchus]: Dr. Neal, in your book New Black Man, you describe how you were first tagged a black male feminist on
the BET Tonight Show. Being that you embrace this tag, can you share with us what exactly is…a Black Male Feminist?
[Dr. Mark Anthony Neal]: [-laughing-] Well, when I first began graduate school I was introduced to something called
Feminist Theory, a body of work that attempted to intervene in both political discourse and everyday realities regarding the
notions of equity between men and women. The idea that men inherited a certain amount of privilege from their maleness
was a privilege even more complicated when factoring race into the equation. I was taking classes in the English Department
and became curious to the question, “where are all the Black women writing about this?” There I was, reading Barbara
Christen and Barbara Smith, and on my own I began to seek out sisters like bell hooks. I remember purchasing my first bell
hooks reading on me and my wife’s first wedding anniversary. It was my first attempt at critically engaging that type of
material. hooks is one of the most important figures out there on studies of gender, sexuality, and race in the last 20 years.
She’s written 15 or so books, and none of them with footnotes. She was taking this high theoretical language and writing it
in a way that was both applicable and accessible to everyday folks. It was under this context that I was introduced to not
just Feminism, but Black Feminism.
I realized at that moment that I wasn’t taking women (Black or white) seriously. I wasn’t walking around calling sistahs “B’
s” and resorting to violence—I was more of the Casanova—the romantic cat. However, it became clear that just because I
was “nice” to women, didn’t mean that I valued them intellectually, politically, or even spiritually. From bell hooks, I
linked up with Alexis Deveaux for my doctoral studies. I was the only male, sitting for my first Feminist Theory class—
this 25 year old hip hop kid consuming the likes of Patricia Hill Collins, Angela Davis, and male writers like Fredrick
Douglass. In turn, from pop-culture to Hip Hop, I was beginning to reflect upon various social, cultural, and historical
dynamics through the lens of Black Feminism.
[Bro. Rightchus]: Speaking of Hip Hop Dr. Neal, what do you think about the current “state” of Hip Hop? As Bro.
Nasir Jones (aka Nas) suggested, is Hip Hop really dead?
[MAN]: Lamont, I think Bro. Nas was mainly being provocative, and necessarily so, while at the same time raising a
very pertinent question. There’s no doubt he was introducing a conversation we needed to have. And I think he possesses
and demands the kind of respect from the Hip Hop community, young and old, where he could make that claim, and people
had to listen. With that said, I think we romanticize the early days. From the period of 1986 thru 1992/93, grew a
generation of young people who were suddenly connecting Hip Hop with an on-the-ground grassroots political movement;
largely stimulated by the presidential runs of Jesse Jackson in 1984/88 (respectively), and the reemergence of the Nation of
Islam via Louis Farrakhan. This is also the first wave born after the hey-day of the Civil Rights and Black Power
Movement who are now in college. On the university level, there were Black Studies programs popping up all over the
country—Jesse, Farrakhan and Sister Souljah were on television programs and news interviews. Mixed with Hip Hop, it
was the perfect storm.
You had this new generation of folk taking political and artistic energy, creating a subset movement of socially and
politically conscious Hip Hop. It became the approved preference for this particular era. You had Public Enemy and the X-
Clan rhyming Afrocentrism & Black Nationalism—K RS One introducing complicated intellectual spins on Caribbean
politics—Five-Percenter MC’s like Brand Nubian, and abstract thinkers like A Tribe Called Quest. It was an entire
generation’s way of becoming politicized, and Hip Hop was the muse.
However, it very quickly got rendered a style, and when a new style emerged, political Hip Hop somehow became less
popular. Whether this decision was made by the Black community or by the labels and industry, conscious Hip Hop got
pushed to the side (as it does today). So when we think about Hip Hop now, we get nostalgic for that 7 year period. We
fail to understand that those 5-7 years were just snap shots of a 35 year old genre. If we reflect correctly, Hip Hop has
always possessed some elements of violence, sexism, misogyny, and drug narrative. But these constructs haven’t just
occurred within the vacuum of Hip Hop. “Gangsta Rap” first evolved out of the context of the Prison Industrial Complex,
Three-Strikes, and Crack Cocaine. Police brutality and unemployment doesn’t just happen in the vacuum of Hip Hop. The
music was telling us something, and still is. In many ways, Hip Hop simply reflects what’s going on in our communities.
Whether the rappers speak critically or not, is a different issue. But even the stuff we deem problematic is reflective enough
to be taken serious. Good or bad, there’s still something there to be learned.
[Bro. Rightchus]: Dr. Neal, what’s up with the Hip Hop community and the “N” word? On one hand, you got Hip
Hop legends like Nas & KRS One, beefing with members of the old guard like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton who say, “Let’
s bury the “N” word—this historical slice of verbal misery.” Can you share some insight on why black folk so afraid of the
word….NIGGA (or as Mr. Charlie would pronounce “niggER”)? What exactly are the dynamics of conflict between the
two generations?
[MAN]: First of all…it’s a word! To what extent WE choose to decide the relevance of a word in the conversation of
Black Life in America, both historically and contemporarily speaking, is up to us. For the Hip Hop generation, they’ve
taken a word that’s always been used in many diverse ways. Folks wanna claim that Hip Hop was the first to embrace the
word in terms of endearment or brotherhood, or even in resistance, but let the record speak otherwise. If you read James
Weldon Johnson’s, The Autobiography of An Ex-Colored Man, in that text, he uses the word nigger in a way that affirms.
And in the work, Nigger in the Window (by Helen Jackson Lee), Lee herself discusses how she had developed a multi-
layered understanding of the word nigger by the time she was 3 years old. She reflects on how “in the Black community,
you could pull it out to describe many things and people, in both a positive and negative light.” If we look at the Civil
Rights mainstream - i.e. Dr. King & Company - even they were using the word nigger in loving terms. Listen for
yourself…it’s on the [FBI] tapes!
Michael Eric Dyson actually details in, Is Bill Cosby Right, Cosby’s public use of the word in his younger days. I think
what the debate is about—this theoretical and philosophical attack on…a word - is in hindsight about the eradication of
“real niggers.” There is a segment of Black political discourse that is not only concerned with the popular masses of Black
American’s usage of the word, but that they themselves could possibly still be viewed as niggers, in a literal sense. What
they actually want to eradicate is “Those Kind of Folk” and the “You People.” That’s part of what Bill’s (2004) Pound
Cake Speech was, in essence. It really refers back to Randall Kennedy’s book, Nigger. But Greg Tate makes the point that
he’s “less concerned with the word nigger, as opposed to the type of white supremacist activity that underscores the
word.” What’s worse…being called a niggER or being treated like one?
I think Aaron McGruder articulates this point quite well through his controversial, yet iconic television series, The
Boondocks. And what about The Last Poets who said, “Niggers are Scared of Revolution,” or folk like N.W.A. who were
rapping in 91’ that, “Real Niggaz Don’t Die.” How ‘bout Richard Pryor, who in 1971 was joking, but insightfully stated
that, “If you really wanna know who niggas are, niggas are the ones who survived the Middle Passage!” Here, Richard was
using the word as a mode of resistance—as an expression of resilience—defiance. Personally, I’m always gonna to want to
protect my right as both an intellectual and writer, to use whatever language necessary to converse and connect. So that’s
where I stand on the “N” word. I think the word possesses an incredible amount of historical, artistic, and creative
relevance.
[Bro. Rightchus]: For the Fall Semester of 2009, you taught a class entitled, Black Popular Culture: The Spike Lee
Aesthetic. What were some of the ideas and substantive elements you were hoping to drive home to the class in reference to
Spike’s cultural and artistic contributions within the Black community?
[MAN]: The first thing I must state is that no matter how you feel about Spike’s films (good or bad), he’s one of the most
important, if not THE most important Black artist of the 20th & 21st century. His do-it-yourself efforts and obvious
commitment to use his art in the service of addressing race, class, and the disparaging conditions of Blackness in America, is
unparalleled. And in doing so, it hasn’t always translated into a money-making process. Whether it’s a film about Malcolm
X or a documentary on Jim Brown—whether it’s race in Brooklyn in Do the Right Thing or Spike’s daring masterpiece,
Bamboozled, the “brotha” comes correct! With works like When the Levees Broke and 4 Little Girls (the historical
documentary on the 1963 bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church), he’s paid his price to speak…literally. So I thought
it was important to celebrate him and the experiences and realities he articulates for our community. If we don’t celebrate
him, we’re not going to generate the next generation of young folk who’ll also reflect through art. Because his work has
function largely in the world of abstract appreciation, as opposed to mainstream Hollywood, you have a whole generation
of people who aren’t familiar with Spike Lee—particularly our young Black students. They may have seen Inside Man,
only because it crossed over. So it was important to place his films in the proper context, and as a class, to examine the
Black political, social, and cultural discourse of the mid 1980’s that helped produce a Spike Lee in the first place.
Nelson George referred to this era as the [Post-Soul Aesthetic]. It was this generation of young people who were just
coming of age with a public voice—using their art to continue the ongoing conversation of economic disparity and racial
inequality. They were also speaking back to this conservative channeled view of Blackness—you know, what it “meant” to
be Black. In the mid 80’s, that meant speaking back to the Black church, the old Civil Rights guard, our models of
leadership, and to the few Blacks within The Academy (note: the figurative institutional body of higher learning). The
challenge was to engage a cultural history of Spike’s films within a framework of the social and political implications ahead.
In many ways, there’s no Barack Obama without this particular period’s artistic contributions. This was just a portion of
the conversation. ????
For additional commentary, visit Dr. Neal @ www.newblackman.blogspot.com
Bro. Rightchus rightchustruth@spectacularmag.com
Dr. Mark Anthony Neal
The Post-Soul Aesthetic, the [N] word, the death of Hip Hop, Spike Lee and Black Feminism
Mark Anthony Neal is a professor of Black Popular Culture in the Department of African and African American Studies at
Duke University. He is the author of four books including, That’s the Joint!: The Hip-Hop Studies Reader (2004) and one
of my personal new favorites, New Black Man: Rethinking Black Masculinity (2005). Most importantly, he’s active and
visible.
[Bro. Rightchus]: Dr. Neal, in your book New Black Man, you describe how you were first tagged a black male feminist on
the BET Tonight Show. Being that you embrace this tag, can you share with us what exactly is…a Black Male Feminist?
[Dr. Mark Anthony Neal]: [-laughing-] Well, when I first began graduate school I was introduced to something called
Feminist Theory, a body of work that attempted to intervene in both political discourse and everyday realities regarding the
notions of equity between men and women. The idea that men inherited a certain amount of privilege from their maleness
was a privilege even more complicated when factoring race into the equation. I was taking classes in the English Department
and became curious to the question, “where are all the Black women writing about this?” There I was, reading Barbara
Christen and Barbara Smith, and on my own I began to seek out sisters like bell hooks. I remember purchasing my first bell
hooks reading on me and my wife’s first wedding anniversary. It was my first attempt at critically engaging that type of
material. hooks is one of the most important figures out there on studies of gender, sexuality, and race in the last 20 years.
She’s written 15 or so books, and none of them with footnotes. She was taking this high theoretical language and writing it
in a way that was both applicable and accessible to everyday folks. It was under this context that I was introduced to not
just Feminism, but Black Feminism.
I realized at that moment that I wasn’t taking women (Black or white) seriously. I wasn’t walking around calling sistahs “B’
s” and resorting to violence—I was more of the Casanova—the romantic cat. However, it became clear that just because I
was “nice” to women, didn’t mean that I valued them intellectually, politically, or even spiritually. From bell hooks, I
linked up with Alexis Deveaux for my doctoral studies. I was the only male, sitting for my first Feminist Theory class—
this 25 year old hip hop kid consuming the likes of Patricia Hill Collins, Angela Davis, and male writers like Fredrick
Douglass. In turn, from pop-culture to Hip Hop, I was beginning to reflect upon various social, cultural, and historical
dynamics through the lens of Black Feminism.
[Bro. Rightchus]: Speaking of Hip Hop Dr. Neal, what do you think about the current “state” of Hip Hop? As Bro.
Nasir Jones (aka Nas) suggested, is Hip Hop really dead?
[MAN]: Lamont, I think Bro. Nas was mainly being provocative, and necessarily so, while at the same time raising a
very pertinent question. There’s no doubt he was introducing a conversation we needed to have. And I think he possesses
and demands the kind of respect from the Hip Hop community, young and old, where he could make that claim, and people
had to listen. With that said, I think we romanticize the early days. From the period of 1986 thru 1992/93, grew a
generation of young people who were suddenly connecting Hip Hop with an on-the-ground grassroots political movement;
largely stimulated by the presidential runs of Jesse Jackson in 1984/88 (respectively), and the reemergence of the Nation of
Islam via Louis Farrakhan. This is also the first wave born after the hey-day of the Civil Rights and Black Power
Movement who are now in college. On the university level, there were Black Studies programs popping up all over the
country—Jesse, Farrakhan and Sister Souljah were on television programs and news interviews. Mixed with Hip Hop, it
was the perfect storm.
You had this new generation of folk taking political and artistic energy, creating a subset movement of socially and
politically conscious Hip Hop. It became the approved preference for this particular era. You had Public Enemy and the X-
Clan rhyming Afrocentrism & Black Nationalism—K RS One introducing complicated intellectual spins on Caribbean
politics—Five-Percenter MC’s like Brand Nubian, and abstract thinkers like A Tribe Called Quest. It was an entire
generation’s way of becoming politicized, and Hip Hop was the muse.
However, it very quickly got rendered a style, and when a new style emerged, political Hip Hop somehow became less
popular. Whether this decision was made by the Black community or by the labels and industry, conscious Hip Hop got
pushed to the side (as it does today). So when we think about Hip Hop now, we get nostalgic for that 7 year period. We
fail to understand that those 5-7 years were just snap shots of a 35 year old genre. If we reflect correctly, Hip Hop has
always possessed some elements of violence, sexism, misogyny, and drug narrative. But these constructs haven’t just
occurred within the vacuum of Hip Hop. “Gangsta Rap” first evolved out of the context of the Prison Industrial Complex,
Three-Strikes, and Crack Cocaine. Police brutality and unemployment doesn’t just happen in the vacuum of Hip Hop. The
music was telling us something, and still is. In many ways, Hip Hop simply reflects what’s going on in our communities.
Whether the rappers speak critically or not, is a different issue. But even the stuff we deem problematic is reflective enough
to be taken serious. Good or bad, there’s still something there to be learned.
[Bro. Rightchus]: Dr. Neal, what’s up with the Hip Hop community and the “N” word? On one hand, you got Hip
Hop legends like Nas & KRS One, beefing with members of the old guard like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton who say, “Let’
s bury the “N” word—this historical slice of verbal misery.” Can you share some insight on why black folk so afraid of the
word….NIGGA (or as Mr. Charlie would pronounce “niggER”)? What exactly are the dynamics of conflict between the
two generations?
[MAN]: First of all…it’s a word! To what extent WE choose to decide the relevance of a word in the conversation of
Black Life in America, both historically and contemporarily speaking, is up to us. For the Hip Hop generation, they’ve
taken a word that’s always been used in many diverse ways. Folks wanna claim that Hip Hop was the first to embrace the
word in terms of endearment or brotherhood, or even in resistance, but let the record speak otherwise. If you read James
Weldon Johnson’s, The Autobiography of An Ex-Colored Man, in that text, he uses the word nigger in a way that affirms.
And in the work, Nigger in the Window (by Helen Jackson Lee), Lee herself discusses how she had developed a multi-
layered understanding of the word nigger by the time she was 3 years old. She reflects on how “in the Black community,
you could pull it out to describe many things and people, in both a positive and negative light.” If we look at the Civil
Rights mainstream - i.e. Dr. King & Company - even they were using the word nigger in loving terms. Listen for
yourself…it’s on the [FBI] tapes!
Michael Eric Dyson actually details in, Is Bill Cosby Right, Cosby’s public use of the word in his younger days. I think
what the debate is about—this theoretical and philosophical attack on…a word - is in hindsight about the eradication of
“real niggers.” There is a segment of Black political discourse that is not only concerned with the popular masses of Black
American’s usage of the word, but that they themselves could possibly still be viewed as niggers, in a literal sense. What
they actually want to eradicate is “Those Kind of Folk” and the “You People.” That’s part of what Bill’s (2004) Pound
Cake Speech was, in essence. It really refers back to Randall Kennedy’s book, Nigger. But Greg Tate makes the point that
he’s “less concerned with the word nigger, as opposed to the type of white supremacist activity that underscores the
word.” What’s worse…being called a niggER or being treated like one?
I think Aaron McGruder articulates this point quite well through his controversial, yet iconic television series, The
Boondocks. And what about The Last Poets who said, “Niggers are Scared of Revolution,” or folk like N.W.A. who were
rapping in 91’ that, “Real Niggaz Don’t Die.” How ‘bout Richard Pryor, who in 1971 was joking, but insightfully stated
that, “If you really wanna know who niggas are, niggas are the ones who survived the Middle Passage!” Here, Richard was
using the word as a mode of resistance—as an expression of resilience—defiance. Personally, I’m always gonna to want to
protect my right as both an intellectual and writer, to use whatever language necessary to converse and connect. So that’s
where I stand on the “N” word. I think the word possesses an incredible amount of historical, artistic, and creative
relevance.
[Bro. Rightchus]: For the Fall Semester of 2009, you taught a class entitled, Black Popular Culture: The Spike Lee
Aesthetic. What were some of the ideas and substantive elements you were hoping to drive home to the class in reference to
Spike’s cultural and artistic contributions within the Black community?
[MAN]: The first thing I must state is that no matter how you feel about Spike’s films (good or bad), he’s one of the most
important, if not THE most important Black artist of the 20th & 21st century. His do-it-yourself efforts and obvious
commitment to use his art in the service of addressing race, class, and the disparaging conditions of Blackness in America, is
unparalleled. And in doing so, it hasn’t always translated into a money-making process. Whether it’s a film about Malcolm
X or a documentary on Jim Brown—whether it’s race in Brooklyn in Do the Right Thing or Spike’s daring masterpiece,
Bamboozled, the “brotha” comes correct! With works like When the Levees Broke and 4 Little Girls (the historical
documentary on the 1963 bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church), he’s paid his price to speak…literally. So I thought
it was important to celebrate him and the experiences and realities he articulates for our community. If we don’t celebrate
him, we’re not going to generate the next generation of young folk who’ll also reflect through art. Because his work has
function largely in the world of abstract appreciation, as opposed to mainstream Hollywood, you have a whole generation
of people who aren’t familiar with Spike Lee—particularly our young Black students. They may have seen Inside Man,
only because it crossed over. So it was important to place his films in the proper context, and as a class, to examine the
Black political, social, and cultural discourse of the mid 1980’s that helped produce a Spike Lee in the first place.
Nelson George referred to this era as the [Post-Soul Aesthetic]. It was this generation of young people who were just
coming of age with a public voice—using their art to continue the ongoing conversation of economic disparity and racial
inequality. They were also speaking back to this conservative channeled view of Blackness—you know, what it “meant” to
be Black. In the mid 80’s, that meant speaking back to the Black church, the old Civil Rights guard, our models of
leadership, and to the few Blacks within The Academy (note: the figurative institutional body of higher learning). The
challenge was to engage a cultural history of Spike’s films within a framework of the social and political implications ahead.
In many ways, there’s no Barack Obama without this particular period’s artistic contributions. This was just a portion of
the conversation. ????
For additional commentary, visit Dr. Neal @ www.newblackman.blogspot.com
Bro. Rightchus rightchustruth@spectacularmag.com
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