If you asked a rap fan in 2010 who their favorite 

female rapper was, chances are that list would begin 
and end at “Nicki Minaj.” While the 90s and early 
2000s brought lots of talent to the table for female 
rap with trailblazers like Lil’ Kim and Missy Elliot, 
the decline of their careers in mainstream rap left a 
hole in the industry that only Minaj seemed to be able 
to fill. However, in recent years, several new female 
rappers have emerged, making a name for themselves 
in the rap game. Stars like Megan Thee Stallion and 
Cardi B have climbed the charts to be at the forefront 
of the genre. From conscious rap to party anthems, 
these women’s distinct styles and flows command 
the attention of hip-hop heads who otherwise may 
not have explored past their favorite male rappers. 
After taking a deep dive into female rap myself, I’ve 
found a plethora of female emcees, or “femcees” as I 
like to call them, that have empowered me through 
song, whether that be through providing intellectual 
stimulation or just giving me a song to dance to in the 
mirror while doing my makeup. Because of this, I’d 
like to spread my love for lady rappers by sharing a 
few of my personal favorite tracks as an introduction 
to their wildly diverse sounds.

1. “Countin’ Up” – Rico Nasty 
“Countin’ Up” was the very first track I thought 

of when creating this list because it was the song 
that really got me into listening to female rappers. 
Rico Nasty is a rapper based in the DMV area. She 
stepped into the limelight after making the 2019 
Freshman XXL Class, which has helped launch 
the careers of other rappers like Lil Uzi Vert, 
21 Savage and the late Juice Wrld. When I first 
listened to this song, I was immediately impressed 
by Rico’s effortless flow. My favorite lyrics from 
this song are “Who you frontin’ on? Come on girl, 
I know you a rookie / You got some followers, so 
what? Do you want you a cookie?” As seen in her 
performance, her sense of humor shines through 
her lyricism and lively tone. What I really love and 
find truly innovative about Rico is her ability to 
incorporate elements of punk rock into a lot of her 
music. Her confident, carefree lyrics and unique 
song production make her discography one of my 
favorites to keep diving back into.

2. “Saggy Denim” – Princess Nokia ft. Wiki
Princess Nokia, most known for her 2020 hit 

single “I Like Him,” is a rapper who has only kept 
ascending into the limelight in recent months. 
“Saggy Denim” is my personal favorite track by 
Nokia, from her sophomore album 1992 Deluxe. 
The New York rapper effortlessly glides over this 

90s-inspired instrumental, rapping about her 
home city and Puerto Rican heritage. She even 
incorporates a bit of Spanglish into her verses, 
rapping “I speak that ‘mira, mira,’ that ‘mira, oye 
linda’ / That ‘ven aqui mi’jita, tu eres mi chiquita.’” 
This verse translates to “ I speak that ‘Look, look,’ 
that ‘look, hey pretty girl’ / That ‘Come here, my 
little daughter, you are my little girl.’” I’ve always 
interpreted these lines as a reference to words 
spoken by her Puerto Rican grandmother, who she 
lived with throughout her teen years. As a whole, 
his song encompasses New York City as Princess 
Nokia sees it, and her love for her hometown and 
culture is clear in every verse. 

3. “Roaring 20s” – Flo Milli
Flo Milli first blew up with her viral hit “Beef Flo 

Mix”, which gained lots of popularity on the social 
media app TikTok. She is well known for her boastful 
lyrics and animated rap style. For me, listening to a 
Flo Milli song is the quickest way to get an instant 
confidence boost. “Roaring 20s” is the rapper’s latest 
single, released in January 2021. The song, produced 
by Kenny Beats (who has also produced much of Rico 
Nasty’s discography), samples classic song “If I Were 
A Rich Man” by placing the distinguishable melody 
over a trap instrumental. The music video also 
incorporates outfits and visuals that are reminiscent 
of the historical Roaring 20’s. At only 21, Flo Milli is 
already en route to being a consistent hitmaker. 

4. “Rainforest” – Noname
Noname, another Chicago native, first entered 

the mainstream rap world when she was featured 
on Chance The Rapper’s song “Lost” from his 2013 
mixtape Acid Rap. Today, she is most known for 
her 2016 mixtape Telefone and is closely associated 
with other Chicago-based rappers like Smino and 
Saba. On “Rainforest,” Noname calls out the irony 
of glorifying billionaires and capitalism with lines 
like, “How you make excuses for billionaires, you 
broke on the bus?” Noname falls more heavily into 
the category of conscious rap than other rappers. 
She typically uses her songs to address social 
issues and share her own self-criticisms. This song 
is particularly exciting to me because it’s the first 
track she has released since her diss track from last 
summer, “Song 33,” where she addressed criticism 
from rapper J. Cole about the tone of her activism. 
In addition to dropping “Rainforest,” she also 
announced that she’ll be releasing another studio 
album called Factory Baby later this year. Long-term 
Noname fans like myself will be eagerly waiting for 
this drop.

Hopefully these songs allow for a small glimpse 

into the vast, everexanding world of female rap. You 
can find these tracks and more on my Spotify playlist 
called “femcees”.

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Michigan in Color
8 — Wednesday, April 21, 2021 

Hope within borders: The impending movement of the North Korean People

Content warning: This piece discusses 

North Korea, and subsequently details of (at 
times graphic) physical violence and trauma. 

“Freedom,” to Joseph Kim, a 31-year-old 

human rights activist and North Korean 
defector, “is like air. You can’t touch it or see 
it. We don’t think about it or appreciate it 
when we have it. But we notice it when we 
don’t have it, just like we notice when we 
don’t have oxygen.”

When the Western world thinks of North 

Korea, people’s minds often go to Kim Jong 
Un and his nuclear missiles or propaganda 
images of vast military parades rather than 
the diverse groups of individuals who call it 
home. This is why LiNK’s mission is to stress 
“people over politics” and thereby fight for 
the rights of average North Korean civilians.

On April 1, Joseph, author of “Under the 

Same Sky: From Starvation in North Korea 
to Salvation in America,” and Hannah Song, 
president and CEO of Liberty in North 
Korea, spoke over Zoom with students 
at the University of Michigan. Liberty 
in North Korea, or LiNK, is a non-profit 
organization dedicated to aiding North 
Korean people in the struggle against their 
totalitarian government and to rescuing and 
rehabilitating North Korean refugees who 
have crossed the border into China. 

However, these defectors’ journeys, once 

they’ve arrived in China, are still harrowing. 
Unlike the rest of the international council, 
the Chinese government does not recognize 
North Korean defectors as refugees; in 
fact, it has a longstanding agreement with 
North Korea to send any caught defectors 
back to their home country. If deported 
back to the country, the defectors often face 
harsh punishments such as beatings, forced 
labor, torture and internment. Additionally, 
it is estimated that 60% of North Korean 
women who escape to China are trafficked, 
sold as brides by their brokers to the highest 
bidder. To avoid such persecution, LiNK 
guides defectors through a rescue route 

that stretches the roughly 3,000-mile span 
from the North Korean border in China to 
Southeast Asia. To put that into perspective, 
it is nearly 300 miles longer than the distance 
from New York to Los Angeles. Eventually, 
refugees are rehabilitated through job 
training, stipends, resources and housing. 
LiNK has thus far rescued 1,201 North 
Korean refugees. Since his ascent to power 
in 2011, Kim Jong Un’s harsh crackdowns 
on border security have cut the amount 
of North Korean refugees who manage to 
escape to South Korea in half.

But four years preceding the Supreme 

Leader’s rise, Joseph arrived in the United 
States of America, at 17 years old. He and 
Hannah, whom he calls “noona” (meaning 
older sister in Korean), are powerful, 
commanding presences, even through 
Zoom. Hannah is extremely charismatic 
and her voice brims with passion. I get the 
impression that nearly everything she says 
to the U-M students she has said many, 
many times before — not in a performatively 
rehearsed way, but out of her dedication to 
sharing these stories as often as she can, 
with whoever will listen to her. In colloquial 
conversation, Hannah is vibrant and fun — 
she refers to Joseph as “Jo Bro” and calls 
him her “brother from another mother” — 
and when she is speaking about the plight 
of the North Korean people, her vigor 
seems inexhaustible. Joseph, on the other 
hand, possesses an air of quiet dignity. His 
voice is soft and gentle, but some quality 
about him commands respect — perhaps 
it’s his pensiveness and apparent careful 
consideration of his words as he gathers 
his thoughts to speak. His and Hannah’s 
collaboration feels natural and moving, and 
despite the heavy subject matter they have to 
impart, the two try to joke around whenever 
they can. At one point, Joseph commends 
Hannah for her dedication to LiNK and she 
tells him to keep complimenting her. Later, 
Joseph also jokingly accuses Hannah of 
embarrassing him for putting him on the 
spot with a question. In response, she simply 
smiles and says, “Then my job is done.” 

***

Hannah and Joseph have dedicated their 

lives to providing aid to the North Korean 
people until the people can eventually 
free themselves from their regime. The 
suffering 
which 
millions 
of 
average 

North Korean citizens endure today, as 
a result of Draconian rule, is entirely too 
vast to summarize in a single article. In 
2014, the United Nations Commission of 
Inquiry conducted an investigation into 
human rights violations in North Korea 
and concluded that “in many instances, 
the violations of human rights found by 
the commission constitute crimes against 
humanity. … The gravity, scale and nature 
of these violations reveal a State that does 
not have any parallel in the contemporary 
world.”

To combat these issues, activist and then-

student Adrian Hong and comedian Paul 
“PK” Kim co-founded the organization 
Liberty in North Korea, at Yale University 
in March of 2004, originally under the 
name “Liberation in North Korea.” (The 
two co-founders eventually moved on to 
different projects.)

Hannah said she has not always been 

cognizant of the suffering which plagues 
North Koreans: She claims that before the 
advent of Google, very few Americans knew 
about the human rights violations by the 
regime. It wasn’t until she read defector 
Kang Chol-Hwan’s memoir, co-authored by 
historian Pierre Rigoulot, “The Aquariums 
of Pyongyang: Ten Years in the North 
Korean Gulag,” that she started to grow 
educated about the humanitarian crisis. In 
2006, she quit her corporate advertising job 
to devote herself full-time to aiding North 
Korean refugees, and two years later Hong 
selected her for the position of LiNK’s CEO.

Today, LiNK, whose headquarters are 

now based in Long Beach, Calif. (with an 
office in Seoul), has more than 100 global 
chapters, and its U-M chapter was founded 
in 2009.

LSA junior Joyce Jeong was recently 

announced to be the next president of the U-M 
chapter for the 2021-2022 academic year. 

“One of my biggest frustrations (about life 

under the regime) is there’s just no access to 
be intellectually curious,” Jeong said. “If 

you have the smallest curiosity, you have 
no outlet to explore that… No music, no 
media and … North Korea has so many fear-
mongering tactics where it’s like you can’t 
even think about things without having 
some sort of consequence.”

As 
an 
underclassman, 
Jeong 
had 

deliberated over whether or not to 
fully devote herself to LiNK. 
One reason she ultimately 
committed to the cause, 
in her words, is that 
“you don’t hear about 
North Korea in the 
news because … they 
don’t have the right 
to join assembly, they 
don’t have the right to 
religion, they don’t have 
the right to media… The 
fact that we know so little about 
(North Korea) should raise a sense of 
urgency.”

Pre-pandemic, LiNK at the University 

could be seen periodically at Mason Hall, 
a plastic table set up adjacent to one of the 
wood-paneled walls, and on it, a poster 
with “Liberty in North Korea” spelled out 
in large, red letters, alongside the various 
snacks they were selling to raise funds. In 
this past academic year, the U-M chapter has 
had to adjust to the COVID-19 pandemic by 
taking its meetings to Zoom and drumming 
up innovative new fundraising ideas, like 
a talent auction and virtual dating game 
show. The LiNK headquarters requires 
roughly $3,000 to rescue and rehabilitate 
one North Korean refugee, and Jeong 
states that, despite the challenges that the 
two virtual semesters presented, the U-M 
chapter has managed to raise an impressive 
$6,000 in the past year alone.

***

Despite the U-M chapter’s fundraising 

success, the COVID-19 pandemic has 
effectively severed communication and 
financial support between many defectors 
and their family members who remain 
in the country. The pandemic has also 
severely hurt North Koreans’ chances of 
defecting from the country and resettling 

in South Korea because the regime 
quickly capitalized on the threat of the 
novel coronavirus by enforcing tighter 
controls at the state’s borders. According 
to Hannah, the most recent people whom 
LiNK was able to help to defect from the 

country escaped North Korea over a 

year ago, in January 2020. Even 

in China and Southeast 

Asia, with heightened 

movement 
controls 

and 
checkpoints, 

the 
underground 

pathway that leads 
to asylum in South 
Korea is much more 
difficult to navigate 
than it was in pre-

pandemic times.
Despite 
these 

challenges — whose effects, 

according to Hannah, may linger for 

the next decade — it is as vital as ever that 
North Korean defectors continue to reach 
safety in other nations because if discovered, 
their attempted escapes often have dire 
consequences. In Hannah’s talk at the 
University, she recounts one woman’s failed 
effort to escape to China: After she and her 
5-year-old daughter were apprehended for 
attempting to cross the river, she was beaten 
by a guard and then forced to watch as her 
own child was beaten and kicked until blood 
spilled from her mouth. Hannah shared 
another woman’s story of defecting from 
North Korea and attempting to meet with 
LiNK for aid in crossing into Southeast Asia: 
The woman’s husband and elder child were 
found by Chinese plainclothes officers and 
eventually repatriated. While she tried to 
hide with her two-year-old child to avoid 
capture, she covered her baby’s mouth 
to conceal any cries, and after she finally 
emerged, she realized she had accidentally 
suffocated her baby. The woman had to dig 
a shallow grave for her child and eventually 
make her way into Southeast Asia, alone.

In honor of Black Maternal Health Week

My mother often describes the 

births of my siblings and I with an 
unmatched sense of happiness. Her 
testimony of how she was able to 
bring new life into the world four 
different times quickly turns into a 
sentimental recount of what it felt 
like to hold each of her babies for the 
first time, all while in the presence 
of loved ones. When it comes to my 
birth specifically, she says it was an 
“easy birth” with minimal pain. As 
far as her experiences with my three 
siblings, it was not as smooth sailing 
and pain-free (as you can see, I am the 
good child). However, she never fails 
to mention that whatever physical 
and emotional pain she experienced 
was soon overshadowed by an 
overwhelming sense of joy. Those 
days go down as arguably the best 
days of her — and my father’s — life. 
As standard as this may sound, this 
isn’t every mother’s birth story. For 
some mothers, the tears cried on this 
day aren’t tears of joy, but of pain and 
loss. And this day, which is supposed 
to be the best day of their lives, ends 
up being their last.

Given that the United States 

is riddled with over-medicalized 
births and an inequitable health care 
system, it is not surprising that we 
have the highest rates of maternal 
mortality amongst developed nations. 
This is a problem that is endured by 
women of all backgrounds. However, 
in a society that is still characterized 
by institutionalized racism, it would 
be naive not to acknowledge that 
minority 
women 
— 
specifically 

Black women — bear the brunt of 
this burden. In fact, Black women 
are more than three to four times 
more likely to experience pregnancy-
related mortality or morbidity in 
comparison to white women, as 
well as more than twice as likely 
to experience maternal mortality 
compared to non-Black women of 
color. To make matters worse, the 
onset of the COVID-19 pandemic has 
widened this gap. Continued racial 
discrimination, as well as a lack of 
space in Black hospitals to service 
both COVID-19 patients and laboring 
mothers, has worsened the state of 
Black maternal health.

While others used to try and 

explain away this disparity by 
blaming it on a lack of education 
and financial stability in Black 
communities, the discovery that 
a wealthy, college-educated Black 
woman is more likely to experience a 
pregnancy-related death than a poor 
white woman who did not graduate 
high school has since disproved 
this. There are many theories that 
explain racial differences in maternal 

mortality, one of the most prominent 
being Arline Geronimus’s Weathering 
Hypothesis. This theory states that 
biological consequences of the stress 
resulting from racism that Black 
women face can be linked to negative 
maternal health outcomes. Racism, 
which is inherently stress-inducing, 
can cause cells to divide and die at an 
abnormally rapid rate, resulting in the 
body’s premature aging. This can then 
cause an increased risk of chronic 
conditions such as diabetes and high 
blood pressure, both of which can 
lead to pregnancy complications and 
maternal mortality. Essentially, the 
body lacks the ability to promote 
a healthy pregnancy when the 
mother is faced with chronic stress, 
such as that from racism and other 
unquantifiable systems. While this 
theory can be applied to all stress 
regardless of cause, the ways in 
which anti-Black racism is embedded 
into the very structure of the U.S. 
makes stress a much more chronic 
issue for Black women than anyone 
else. This theory, paired with the 
history of unnecessarily high rates 
of cesarean sections done on Black 
women and lack of health care 
access in predominantly Black areas 
provides ample explanation for this 
maternal health disparity. With 
this plethora of information, it has 
become increasingly clear over time 
that Black women’s right to life is 
under attack.

This ongoing threat to Black 

motherhood presents an undeniable 
threat to the quality of life that 
is available to Black women and 
families. 
Black 
women 
— 
like 

everyone else — should never have to 
fear that their delivery bed will also 
be their deathbed. The ability to leave 
the delivery room alive and with the 
physical and emotional capacity to 
care for their newborn child should 
be a reality that women of all races 
can be guaranteed to experience. 
Currently, this is not the case. 

Not only is the disparity in 

maternal mortality severe in its 
magnitude, but it is also two-tiered 
in its nature. The Black maternal 
health crisis is undeniably a result of 
the racism experienced both in the 
health care system and in everyday 
life. The physiological stress that 
is produced, as well as the lack of 
medical support in urgent medical 
situations 
experienced 
by 
Black 

people, has detrimental impacts to all 
aspects of health. However, given the 
lack of agency and autonomy during 
childbirth among women of all races, 
disparities in maternal mortality 
and mortality are also perpetuated 
by 
gender-based 
discrimination. 

Ultimately, 
the 
ways 
in 
which 

medical racism and gender-based 
discrimination work intersectionally 
to harm Black mothers at a disparate 

rate shows the double jeopardy that 
Black women experience due to the 
consequences of both. Because of 
this, the eradication of this disparity 
will require initiatives that cater to 
the specific needs of Black women.

This is why Black Maternal Health 

Week exists. Created by the Black 
Mamas Matter Alliance, it is a week 
in April (every April 11-17 to be exact) 
devoted to advocating for solutions to 
the Black maternal health crisis. The 
initiative also provides a platform for 
Black mothers’ and families’ stories 
to be heard in a space where they 
will be valued. Additionally, Black 
Maternal Health Week takes place 
during National Minority Health 
Month in April and contributes to 
the larger conversation of making 
health experiences and outcomes 
equitable for people of color. For the 
past three years, the Black Mamas 
Matter Alliance has hosted the 
Black Maternal Health Conference, 
in which participants are able to 
build their capacity in shaping Black 
maternal health policy, programs and 
advocacy, while also learning how to 
address maternal health disparities in 
different career sectors and building 
community among Black women. 
Through these events and the other 
resources they offer, Black Maternal 
Health week has created room for the 
issue of Black maternal health and 
mortality, as well as possible solutions 
for the Black women and families 
who will benefit from it the most. 

Another victory of the Black 

Mamas Matter Alliance is its success 
of getting maternal health inequities 
prioritized by those with the political 
power 
to 
enact 
progress. 
The 

Congressional Black Maternal Health 
Caucus, established by U.S. Rep. Alma 
Adams, N.C.-12, and U.S. Rep. Lauren 
Underwood, D-Ill., in April 2019, is 
a manifestation of the political and 
societal change that Black Maternal 
Health Week has been advocating 
for. Just like the Black Mamas Matter 
Alliance, the Congressional Black 
Maternal Health Caucus aims to 
diminish the disparities in maternal 
mortality rates between Black women 
and white women. In June 2019, the 
caucus approved multiple priority 
initiatives including funding for 
research on maternal health disparity, 
the promotion of breastfeeding in 
hospitals (another maternal health 
disparity), funding for more midwife 
education in order to diversify the 
field, funding for community-based 
organizations that are dedicated to 
improving Black maternal health, the 
provision of support for incarcerated 
mothers (given that Black women 
make up a majority of the female 
prison population) and more.

Your introduction to lady rap

UDOKA NWANSI

MiC Columnist

Design by Grace Aretakis

JESSICA KWON
Senior MiC Editor

KAYLA THOMAS

MiC Columnist

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