Beloved Community Series: #CultureOverEverything

At Humanities Amped in 2021, we are celebrating the first of our three core values: beloved community. As we look toward the future and its challenges, this aspect of our organizational vision, to nurture a dynamic, beloved community of lifelong learners and civic leaders, has never felt more essential to our individual and collective well-being. Over the next few months, we will release a series of think pieces reflecting on the theme of beloved community and how it shows up in our work at Humanities Amped. Click here to learn more about the heart of beloved community and why it matters so deeply to us. 

Our first beloved community reflection is from Humanities Amped Community Educator and Program Manager, Marcel Williams. Marcel is a hip-hop educator who leads Amped classes at Westdale Middle and the Soul Cypher workshop series in Amped Studio Afterschool, which use hip-hop as a lens to explore mental health and peer advocacy. He developed and leads the Amped Community Care initiative, connecting youth to vital mentorship and resources when they need it most. Marcel is also a national independent touring hip-hop artist. He has over 18 years of youth development experience in education, asset based youth programming, and mental health. Marcel has a bachelors in History from Southern University A&M in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and has been recognized by national publications such as XXL, Hip-Hop DX, & Genius for both his art and youth advocacy.
[email protected]

#CultureOverEverything

marcel williams

My first performance in front of a huge crowd was February 1998 at Mt. Zion Baptist Church, where I performed at the city's Black History program. I was oh so nervous, but I sucked it up and laid out a flawless performance. My anxiety was so high that when I finished and the crowd gave me a standing ovation, I walked as fast as I could to my dad’s van and cried my eyes out. As a touring hip-hop artist I’ve performed in front of thousands, but never have I been as nervous as I was that day. I’m comfortable being in front of crowds because I was taught how to “speak” by The Fox.

I first remember seeing the Fox when I was 6 years old at the Miss Black Ardmore Pageant at the Goddard Center for the Arts. She stood out to me because she dressed very flashy and was known to change outfits several times during an event. The Fox is originally from South Carolina, educated in DC, but came to Oklahoma in her 20’s and has been knee deep in the community saving Black youth in my small Southern Oklahoma town from the ills of the streets ever since. My hometown was recently named #1 of the most dangerous cities in Oklahoma, mostly due to its drug and gang problem. The Fox is a middle school teacher by trade, but she is a superhero at heart and action. She taught us to speak, walk, and most importantly “act like we got some sense.” 

THE FOX IS A MIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHER BY TRADE, BUT SHE IS A SUPERHERO AT HEART AND ACTION.

When I was in 6th grade, she told me when I got to 7th grade I was gonna be in her class. When I got to 7th grade she pulled me from my English class, and enrolled me in an elective class called Pro-Team. I’m not exactly sure what the curriculum was for Pro-Team, nor how it was so important I didn’t have to take 7th grade English, but I know she taught me how to do speeches, and I got so good she entered me in speech & oratorical contests all across the state of Oklahoma. I had memorized “God’s Trombone” by James Weldon Johnson, and I was killing it. 

The Fox was/is old school though. I was a church boy, a son of a gospel musician. I was supposed to be at choir practice, practicing my tenor harmonies for the African American Youth Achievers choir. I was in the 11th grade (I think), starting to act out due to family trauma that I didn’t know how to describe or communicate until I myself was a youth worker and parent well into my 30’s. Me & a few other homies, whom I won’t name, were on the corner doing Lord knows what, with who knows what tucked in the small pocket of some jeans that were probably Fubu. We was “outchea,” as the kids say.

Next thing I know, a car swoops up on the curb and a figure about 5’9, 5’11 with heels, hops the Nissan and charges towards us. 2 of the 3 boys were in the choir, one was not. The dude who was not got ghost on us, leaving us frozen until we were apprehended and thrown in the back of the Nissan, and summarily cursed out. I was just praying that my dad would not be called, and my guy just wanted the chastisement to end. Instead, the Nissan pulled up to the church house, and we were again cursed out in the most lovingly way possible. After receiving the most endearing rebuke ever, we were made to go sing our parts like nothing ever happened. Luckily for me, my father never knew about it, nor were my friend and I patted down. I’m not gonna say who had what, but let's just say I’ve never tried to sing with perfect pitch more than I did this night.

I also work hard to fill in the gaps they may have overlooked while doing their version of the lord's work.

The Fox loves real real hard, and expects the best out of you. She wanted us to be great, but never did much to help us deal with the emotional side of being a kid. She always told us what to do, and how we needed to do it, and I love and thank her for that. Ultimately, she is a huge reason why I do what I do today, why I am a success and not a statistic like so many of my homies, cousins, teammates, classmates, etc. ended up being, coming where I’m from. But something tells me that if I would have had an adult who could meet me where I was, someone who took the time to listen to help me sort through my troubles, someone who provided a healthy outlet to express myself based on what I was interested in, she would have never had to pick me up off that corner and drag me to choir practice that Tuesday night.

Now that I’m grown, I look at all the things the people who love and care about me did to make me a better person, and I also work hard to fill in the gaps they may have overlooked while doing their version of the Lord’s work. That’s why I do what I do, that’s why I do it how I do it.
​
As an adult, I will never not be that same kid from a small town where a lot of people do not get to leave. A kid through the benevolence of The Most High, my ancestors, my loved ones, grew to be a college graduate who travels the country spittin’ Pan-African conscious hip-hop for gang members. The pandemic took away touring, so I’m now functioning as a Hip-Hop educator who teaches an elective middle school class with Humanities Amped that intersects hip-hop culture with social justice themes. I too will pull up on some youth brothers on the corner who may or may not be doing Lord knows what, the difference is I will meet them there, and ask them how they are doing. If the rapport is there, I’ll ask them why they are on this corner, and what I can do to help them get off it.

I took my first job as a youth worker when I was 18, working at a summer camp, and I loved it. Even though my degree is in history, 95% of my work experience has been working with young people over the last 19 years. I feel I have been successful because I meet young people where they are and with no judgement. I too deal with childhood trauma and could have easily gotten caught up in the streets, so I’m never looking to chastise or be condescending. I use hip-hop music and culture as a conduit to speak with young people on their terms, letting the dialogue and thoughts grow organically. Most importantly, I use Hip-Hop as a conduit to LISTEN. I use hip-hop to amplify voices in a way that may get ignored if they are not given the outlet to do so. 

MOST IMPORTANTLY, I USE HIP-HOP AS A CONDUIT TO LISTEN.

There’s a rapper named Li’l Baby from Atlanta, GA, known mostly for his autotuned melodic raps about hustling, flossing, and all types of street stories. In the summer of 2020 after Rayshard Brooks was murdered by Atlanta PD there were several protests, some even turned to riots where buildings were vandalized. Baby was so moved by the events that he left his million dollar mansion in the suburbs of Atlanta and started attending the marches & protests. This was the inspiration for his now Grammy nominated song “The Bigger Picture.”

In our #FreeHipHop class, our beloved community has created a space where we can be us, free of judgement & limitations.

On the ‘The Bigger Picture,” Baby talks about the traps of the streets, the unfair prison sentencing guides, stopping crimes & violence in the Black community, and the importance of young people voting. There’s thousands of conscious raps songs talking about social injustices in the era of Black Lives Matter protests, but this song cut through to the young people because he articulated in their language. Raw, uncut, pure, and in their voice. Making it a million times more potent & effective that if an old school conscious rapper like KRS-One would’ve said the same thing. This is why we HAD to discuss this song in our Humanities Amped #FreeHipHop classes.

When I say Hip-Hop, I’m not talking about simply rapping or beats. I’m speaking to the way people think, interact, & express themselves. We can be hip-hop without ever mumbling a rap lyric or tapping our toes to the beat. In our #FreeHipHop class, our beloved community has created a space where we can be us, free of judgement & limitations. We listen, we learn, we love. We praise successes, and support when there’s tragedy. We meet each other where we are. In our beloved community, we put our culture over everything.