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Jonathan Coker | Dr. Rudloff | Text and Discourse Analysis| 9 May 2012

Exploring Performative Gender in Hip Hop Culture

Hip Hop has always been a battle of the sexes. Ever since

Naughty by Nature asked the world if they were “Down with

O.P.P.” and TLC denounced “Scrubs,” rap culture has tried to

explicitly define gender roles. However, I have discovered these

roles to have blurred over time. In Deborah Cameron’s

“Performing Gender Identity,” she claims, “Gender has

constantly to be reaffirmed and publicly displayed by repeatedly

performing particular acts in accordance with the cultural norms

(themselves historically and socially constructed, and

consequently variable) which define ‘masculinity’ and

‘femininity’”(454). I further investigated this claim, applying its

meaning to the realm of “Rap Culture,” and how men and women

perform gender in the hip hop culture. My research supports

Cameron’s claim that gender is constantly reasserted by societal

norms. Yet, in hip hop culture, performative gender is not only

based on societal identity, but also interpersonal relationships

found on the dance floor, and the game of control played by both

males and females.

Hip hop culture is a key social medium through which youth

construct their gender. According to Miguel Muñoz-Laboy,

Assistant Professor in Department of Sociomedical Sciences at

Columbia University, and his colleagues, Hannah Weinstein and

Richard Parker, hip hop culture functions as both a “model of”

and a “model for” cultural identity (627). Essentially, hip hop

artists produce culture-defining music not only for the youth

culture, but also about the youth culture. Yet, this audience has

changed drastically since it was first introduced to the media.

Hip hop exploded into mainstream culture in the 80s, fused with

different genres in the 90s, and became inseparable from Top 40

music in the 2000s, growing to become a significant facet of

contemporary youth culture. Because the media’s influence has

become so inescapable, the youth subconsciously turn to icons of

popular culture rather than their parents when attempting to

understand sexuality and gender roles. Therefore, because hip

hop culture has become so ubiquitous, it greatly affects the way

young men and women construct their identity. According to

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Jamel Santa Cruze Belle, Assistant Professor in the

Communication Department at Boston College, and his

colleague, Roberto Avant-Mier, “Rap music and videos are

significant environmental factors that play an important role in

the way young people express and define themselves” (43). This

sentiment correlates with Cameron’s initial view on performative

gender and gender speech. Cameron argues that gender speech

is a “repeated stylization of the body,” or a consistency in

mannerisms (444). Therefore, because the men and women of

hip hop culture define themselves based distinct cultural norms,

they are performing gender.

Rap culture places great emphasis on the club scene or the

dance floor, where young people candidly express their gender.

On the dance floor, males demonstrate their assertive

masculinity and females challenge hyper-masculine dominance

(Muñoz-Laboy, et al. 615). Hip hop clubs are a competitive arena

where men and women vie for each other’s attention in very

different ways. While young men are pressured to “grind” (a

suggestive type of dancing which mimics sexual intercourse) and

get as close to women as possible, females are pressured to

perform their feminine sexuality by dancing promiscuously

(Muñoz-Laboy, et al. 620). This example of performative gender

on the dance floor must follow a gender code of conduct to

function appropriately. Young men assert their dominance by

treating females with disinterest,(insinuating that women need

men more than men need women) while females set the dancing

boundaries. This distinct relationship creates a “level of

understanding” between male and females, as roles and rules are

established nonverbally. (Muñoz-Laboy, et al. 621). Interestingly,

this mirrors a common courting strategy of young heterosexual

men in America, further exposing hip hop’s influence on the

youth culture. In the hip hop dance scene, dancing is symbolic of

sex, which is usually of more concern for males rather than

females (Belle and Avant-Mier, 48). Because women set the

boundaries while dancing, they can either chose to end the

engagement and dance with friends or become the aggressor,

seeking male attention. In this way, women can become closer to

their peers while collectively understanding the actual flexibility

of normative gender roles. This correlates with Cameron’s idea

of a “joint production,” where contributors to a discourse

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cooperate to construct a “group property rather than the

property of a single speaker” (450). Conversely, Cameron

highlights the necessity for competition (males vying for female

attention) in order for discourse to function. Thus, the dance

floor becomes a battleground of gendered speech and

performativity based on the social norms of rap culture.

Rap culture is portrayed as a game of control, and the victor

of this competition is who performs best as the aggressor. In hip

hop, women are commonly depicted as sexual objects, and grow

to accept this stigma, portraying themselves accordingly (Muñoz-

Laboy et al. 626). However, in recent times, women are prone to

turn this objectification onto males, asserting control of their

bodies and social situations. This modernized idea of a female as

aggressor equates to performative gender, a concept that is

further highlighted by sexual attitudes and stereotypes.

According to Monique Kloosterman, assistant professor in the

Department of Interdisciplinary Social Science at Utrecht

University, and her colleagues, Tom F. M. ter Bogt, Rutger C. M.

E. Engels and Sanne Bogers, “An exposure to formulaic content

of youth media shapes sexual attitudes...which leads to a chronic

adoption of these schemas” ( 845). Thus, young women in the

hip hop culture struggle between the hegemonic gender

ideologies of female passiveness and a newfound need for

assertion (Belle and Avant-Mier, 48). Females in hop hop are

either portrayed as man-eating aggressors, or, more prolifically,

as servants of men. Even when females become subjects of

discourse in lyrics, they are still represented with misogyny,

becoming doers for men (48). Regardless of the progression

women have made in the hip hop world, they still lack visible

agency in rap culture for they are represented as idealistic

caricatures.

In “Ni**as In Paris,” a single by popular rappers Kanye West

and Jay-Z from their 2011 collaborative album entitled “Watch

the Throne,” both rappers depict the concept of control over

females in hip hop while performing the stereotypical idea of

masculinity in hip hop. A faceless female asks West if they “can

get married at the mall” to which he replies “look, you need to

crawl before you ball,” displaying his dominance (Appendix A,

lines 2-3). West continues declaring his control over the female

by insisting she meet him in the bathroom stall to prove her

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worth (Appendix A, lines 4-5). This validates the depiction of the

cool, tough, and potentially violent male in hip hop and his

plaything female counterpart who lacks agency (Kloosterman et

al. 854). Elsewhere, Jay-Z and West begin to compete for

authenticity, a significant facet of performative gender as well as

maintaining masculinity in hip hop. When Jay-Z argues “I got that

hot bitch in my home,” West rebuttals, “You know how many hot

bitches I own” (Appendix A, lines 11-12). This not only supports

Cameron’s importance of competition in discourse, but also her

concept of male gossip as a means to encourage inclusiveness

(456), a significant facet of hip hop culture, which is a

traditionally boy’s club. Essentially, Cameron would argue that

Kanye West and Jay-Z are simply constructing their masculinity

and performing their gender in “Ni**s In Paris” by constantly

reaffirming their connection to the hip hop ethos.

Conversely, contemporary female rappers are performing

their genders in unsuspecting ways, challenging ideals of

normative female roles in hip hop. One such rapper is Azealia

Banks, a Harlem-born rapper who garnered critical acclaim after

the release of her first single, “212,” in late 2011. Like her male

counterparts, Banks presents herself in a cool, tough, and

potentially violent manner. She frequently threatens to “ruin” the

men who dare to challenge her, also calling them “cunts,” a

slang word for the female genitalia which diminishes her

opponents’ manhood and thwarts their expectations (Appendix B,

l. 22). Banks further challenges gender roles by explicitly

expressing her sexuality, instead of being a voiceless vehicle for

male objectification. This concept of a woman asserting her

dominance over a male correlates with Belle and Avant-Mier’s

earlier notion of a change in female identity.

This change in female identity in hip hop is justified, for as

the exposure of a male-dominated culture spreads, it is only

natural for woman to challenge and even mimic the culturally

lauded hegemony. Female hypersexuality in rap began with Lil’

Kim’s debut album Hard Core in 1996. Before Lil’ Kim arrived on

the rap scene, women in the hip hop culture dressed and rapped

like men, ultimately establishing their performative gender as

male. Lil’ Kim used provocative discourse and revealing outfits to

construct an overtly sexual and distinctly female gender,

becoming an ironic caricature while critiquing the misogyny in

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hip hop. However, Azealia Banks undoubtedly approaches her

performative hypersexuality differently constructing her identity

in a completely novel way. Unlike the initial influx of female

rappers, Banks does not acknowledge the masculine hegemony

in the rap culture. Instead, she approaches performative identity

with utter indifference towards male domination, as if women

have been ruling the rap world since its conception.

Hip hop culture has become a blueprint for the youth to

reference when constructing gender identity. Once definite and

straightforward, perceptions of gender in the rap culture are

becoming blurred as both females and males vie for dominance

in traditionally masculine ways. Essentially, my analysis of rap

culture further supports Cameron’s initial claim that gender is

repeated constantly in reverence to societal norms in order to

define masculinity and femininity.

Works Cited

Banks, Azealia. "212." 212-Single. Lazy Jay, 2011. MP3.

Bell, Jamel Santa Cruze, and Roberto Avant-Mier. "What's Love Got To Do With It?

Analyzing The Discourse Of Hip Hop Love Through Rap Balladry, 1987

and 2007." Women & Language 32.2 (2009): 42-49. Academic Search Complete. Web. 4 Mar. 2012.

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Cameron, Deborah. “Performing Gender Identity: Young Men’s Talk and the

Construction of Heterosexual Masculinity.” Language and Masculinity. Ed. Sally

Johnson & Ulrike Meinhof. Oxford: Blackwell. (1997). Print.

Jay-Z, and Kanye West. "Ni**as In Paris." Watch The Throne. Roc-A-Fella Records,

2011. MP3.

Kloosterman, Monique, Tom F. M. ter Bogt, Rutger C. M. E. Engels and Sanne

Bogers “Shake It Baby, Shake It: Media Preferences, Sexual Attitudes and

Gender Stereotypes Among Adolescents.” Sex Roles 63. 11/12 (2010): 844-859. Academic Search Complete. Web. 4 Mar. 2012.

Muñoz-Laboy, Miguel, Hannah Weinstein and Richard Parker, "The Hip-Hop Club

Scene: Gender, Grinding and Sex." Culture, Health & Sexuality 9.6 (2007): 615-

628. Academic Search Complete. Web. 4 Mar. 2012.

Appendix A

Transcript of “Ni**as In Paris”

(Kanye West)

1. That shit crazy (x6) 2. She said Ye can we get married at the mall? 3. I said look you need to crawl before you ball 4. Come and meet me in the bathroom stall 5. And show me why you deserve to have it all 6. That shit crazy 7. Ain't it Jay? 8. What she order, fish filet 9. Your whip so cold, this old thing 10. Act like you'll ever be around muhfuckas like this again

(Jay-Z) 11. I got that hot bitch in my home

(Kanye West)

12. You know how many hot bitches I own 13. Don't let me in my zone (x4)

Appendix BTranscript of “212”

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1. I was in the 2122. On the uptown A, nigga you know what’s up or don’t you?3. Word to who made ya4. I’m a rude bitch, nigga, what are you made up of?5. I’m-a eat ya food up, boo6. I could bust your 8, I’m-a do one too, fuck ya gon' do?7. I want you to make bucks, I’m-a look right nigga, bet ya do

want to fuck…8. Fuck him like ya do want to cum9. You're gay to get discovered in my two-one-deuce10. Cock-a-licking in the water by the blue bayou11. Caught the warm goo in your doo-rag too, son?12. Nigga you’re a Kool-Aid dude13. Plus your bitch might lick it, wonder who let you come to

one-two14. With ya doo-doo crew son… fuck are you into, huh?15. Niggas better oooh-run-run16. You could get shot, homie, if ya do want to17. Put ya guns up, tell your crew don’t front18. I’m a hoodlum nigga, you know you were too once19. Bitch I’m 'bout to blew up too20. I’m the one today, I’m the new shit, boo, young Rapunzel21. Who are you, bitch, new lunch?22. I’m-a ruin you, cunt (4x)