The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Michigan in Color
8 — Wednesday, January 26, 2022 

The normalization of President 

Biden’s necropolitics is as new as 
the sky is blue. Already, I can hear 
the 
neoliberal 
back–to–brunchers 

briskly brandishing their rational-
izing remarks — their ostentatious 
retorts of “reform.” Yet what these 
prideful preachers fail to grasp is the 
sheer fact that the Biden abomination 
— sorry, administration, is not a real 
repudiation of Trump’s but instead 
a perpetuation of his legacy…which, 
of course, was a mere continuation 
of the Obama administration and 
his antecedents’ undying devotion 
to capital exploitation and the white 
power structure. 

Indeed, during Biden’s first 365 

days, we’ve witnessed a grotesque 
perpetuation of racialized immigra-
tion policies. There’s been a con-
tinuation of kids in cages, yet the 
outrage is over. The total number of 
immigrants in detention centers has 
increased by over 50%. Mass incar-
ceration remains, as political scholar 
Siddhant Issar posits, “a significant 
mechanism through which the state 
manages surplus populations and 
the social and economic crises pre-

cipitated by neoliberal restructur-
ing.” This was undeniably evident 
in 2021, as Biden’s administration 
delivered over a million deportations 
(including the inhumane expulsions 
of Haitian asylum-seekers). The only 
figure matching that is the millions 
of dollars this administration has 
put towards police funding, in addi-
tion to the continued fostering of the 
Department of Defense’s 1033 pro-
gram which maliciously militarizes 
the police, continuing to endanger 
the lives of Black and Brown peoples 
across the nation.

Last year, Kyle Rittenhouse’s ver-

dict for the racialized murder of two 
men was met with well-warranted 
wrath. But I must ask, where is this 
energy for the executive-in-chief? 
Our modern American culture is 
remarkably prone to idolizing our 
political figures. Not only do we 
rationalize these ruling-class world-
renowned killers, we regularly glo-
rify them, putting them on a pedestal 
as if they aren’t indirectly facilitating 
the same violence which we claim to 
abhor (on a larger systematic scale 
at that). Rejecting abolition and de-
carceral alternatives, we perpetuate 
our insistent urge to individualize 
systemic issues. In the face of inter-
personal justice, we ardently advo-
cate for incarceration rather than 
assessing material conditions and 
social contradictions on a broader 
structural level.

Peering out abroad, we’ve seen 

a perpetuation of imperialism as 
an imperative, with sanctions on 
Afghanistan 
and 
Venezuela 
and 

Cuba, and political destabilization 
attempts on Nicaragua. A perpetua-
tion of AFRICOM, and the militari-
zation of Afrika and the Middle East 
persists, continuing under the guise 
of “counterterrorism.” These sadis-
tic sanctions and subversion machi-
nations beget disastrous starvation, 
economic deprivation and senseless 
death. 

And let us not forget the perpetu-

ation of our planetary peril, as this 
administration’s lackluster cluster 
of climate change policies has only 
intensified the climate crisis as Biden 
issues large-scale permits for oil and 
gas drilling rivaling that of Trump’s 
first three years. Not to mention the 
avid increase in military spending 
(which remains one of the most sig-
nificant contributors to the climate 
emergency) has resulted in $778 bil-
lion towards “defense” in the name of 
“Build Bombs Better” — sorry, “Build 
Back Better.”

Meanwhile, 
Biden’s 
supporters 

continue to perpetuate and plaster 
his placative reform policies as if they 
aren’t another rudimentary ruling-
class strategy to temporarily resolve 

the inherent antagonisms within the 
capitalist system. Ultimately, none of 
these policies do anything to alter the 
material conditions of the working 
class or address the harrowing crises 
of housing and health care, education 
and the environment, all of which 
continue to be exacerbated during 
the pandemic. 

You know, the pandemic… during 

which the Biden presidency has seen 
unprecedented levels of death and 
dismay as we surpass 1.35 million 
(recorded) cases (in a day). Despite 
vaccinations, 2021 saw more COVID-
19 deaths than 2020. Now, the safe-
ty precautions many people took 
against coronavirus at the beginning 
of the pandemic have been thrown 
out the window. The pandemic wages 
on, yet those of us with privilege sim-
ply do not care as we stumble back 
into packed parties, stadiums and 
bars. It seems to me, especially as the 
new Omicron variant is prolonged, 
that for some all along, “prioritiz-
ing safety” through mask mandates, 
quarantining and other acts of col-
lective care was a mere performative 
political maneuver manufactured by 
the (neo)liberal media apparatus in 
opposition to reactionary right-wing 
sentiments. Evidently, some saw the 
Biden victory and vaccinations as a 

route to “return to normalcy” in more 
ways than one. Yet since Inaugura-
tion Day, the pandemic and all of the 
social problems persisting prior to 
his presidency remain interminably 
perpetuated, augmented and ampli-
fied. 

Of course, underlying all of this is 

the feeble collective forgetting that 
our president, much like his prede-
cessors, is a former collaborator and 
current unapologetic sympathizer 
of segregationists, an architect of 
modern-day mass-incarceration, not 
to mention an alleged abuser — all of 
which was widely accessible infor-
mation prior to Election Day.

And while nationwide disjunctive 

syllogism and the pervading false lib-
eral-conservative dichotomy might 
be to blame for the dissonance then, 
we must now renounce our flawed 
allegiance to party politics and U.S. 
electoralism as a whole.

As Malcolm X once proclaimed, 

“Any time you throw your weight 
behind a political party that controls 
two-thirds of the government and 
that party can’t keep the promise 
that it made to you during election 
time and you’re dumb enough to walk 
around continuing to identify your-
self with that party, you’re not only 
a chump but you’re a traitor to your 
race.” 

If this is the case, then what can we 

do? We can start by asking ourselves 
how we might be actively contribut-
ing to harm in our every-day lives. 
What actions might we take that are 
oriented to the dictates of capital? 

We can think more critically and 

consciously about the media we con-
sume, the brands we endorse or the 
causes we rally behind. We may con-
sider re-directing our career paths 
away from profit, away from exploi-
tation, thus, re-affirming our com-
mitments to justice by prioritizing 
the empowerment of all peoples in 
our professional pursuits. We might 
routinely ask ourselves how we can 
better situate our values and beliefs 
towards liberation in every aspect of 
our existence. 

We can invest in community and 

collective care, mutual aid networks 
and 
revolutionary 
organizations 

(such as Black Alliance for Peace). 

We can devote ourselves to habitu-

ally engaging with revolutionary 
readings and radical written works 
that have been so vigorously sup-
pressed from mainstream discourse. 

We can align our artistic passions 

and political perspectives in ways 
that push back against capitalist ide-
ology and the white power structure. 

We can begin all of this today. We 

don’t have to wait for a midterm. We 
don’t have to wait for 2024. We can 
reject the Biden abomination now

I’m an avid supporter of 

Kendrick Lamar’s music. 
My friends and family all 
know this. I play his music 
when I’m at home or in the 
car, and I am always quick 
to proclaim him as one of 
the best rappers of all time 
since his music inspires 
me to find my own artistic 
voice and become a better 
storyteller of my own life.

Kendrick is part of the 

Los 
Angeles-based 
label 

Top Dawg Entertainment 
(TDE), which houses other 
music industry stars like 
SZA, ScHoolboy Q and Isa-
iah Rashad. I was such a 
huge fan of Kendrick that 
for my 16th birthday, I made 
sure to order a TDE hood-
ie in support of the 2017 
album DAMN., his much 
anticipated follow-up to To 
Pimp a Butterfly. DAMN. 
was released on April 14, 
2017. My siblings and I 
were able to witness Kend-
rick perform the album live 
on tour in Detroit. Even 
though we were sitting in 
the nosebleeds, I will never 
forget that night. I was able 
to rap along to some of my 
favorite 
Kendrick 
songs 

like “Money Trees,” and 
halfway through perform-
ing “HUMBLE.,” Kendrick 
stopped and let the entire 
stadium rap the rest of the 
song. He even brought out 
J. Cole as a surprise guest 
to perform. The energy 
in The Palace was elec-
tric. Kendrick and J. Cole 
on the same stage? Up to 
this point in their careers, 
they had been teasing more 
music and another collabo-
ration, but all us fans had 
gotten was the song “Black 
Friday.” Seeing two of the 
greats share the same stage 
was unforgettable. 

It’s been four long years 

since the release of DAMN., 
and while fans like me 
patiently await new materi-
al from Kendrick, I’ve gone 
back and relistened to some 
of my favorite records of his. 
When revisiting Kendrick’s 
sophomore album, good kid 
m.A.A.d city, he name drops 
two very important cities in 
the opening track, “Sher-
ane a.k.a Master Splinter’s 
Daughter.” Kendrick dis-
cusses his youth and trying 
to see a girl he was inter-
ested in as he raps, “‘Where 
you stay?’ she said, ‘Down 
the street from Dominguez 
High’ / Okay, I know that’s 
borderline Compton or Par-
amount / ‘Well, is it Comp-
ton?’ ‘No,’ she replied.” 

Three things stand out to 

me in these lyrics: Comp-
ton, Paramount and Domin-
guez High.

Kendrick 
Lamar 
was 

born in Compton, Califor-
nia and I was born in Para-
mount, California. These 
two cities located in Los 
Angeles County are adja-
cent to one another and 
divided by the Los Ange-
les River. Looking through 
family photos of my early 
childhood 
in 
Paramount 

helps me understand pieces 
of my story, and discover-
ing old family photos is like 
finding a missing puzzle 
piece. I get closer to under-
standing the full picture of 
my life story one photo at a 
time. There’s this picture of 
my siblings and me posted 
up right next to the Los 
Angeles River that always 
reminds me of my lifelong 
bond I have with my older 
siblings. Here we are, at the 
borderline between Comp-
ton and Paramount, enjoy-
ing a nice evening walk 
along the river.

Kendrick also references 

Dominguez High School, 
which was also only a 
12-minute walk from our 
house on San Marcus St. 
When you can visualize and 
understand 
the 
meaning 

behind the lyrics to songs, 
it makes the listening expe-
rience so much more enjoy-
able and relatable. 

good kid m.A.A.d city 

tells the story of a young 
Kendrick Lamar growing 

up in Compton, California 
surrounded by the harsh 
realities of gang violence 
and 
substance 
abuse 
in 

a city that he still dearly 
loves. In the final verse of 
the closing victory lap of a 
track, “Compton,” Kend-
rick raps, “Now we can all 
celebrate / We can all har-
vest the rap artist of N.W.A 
/ America target our rap 
market, as controversy and 
hate / Harsh realities we in 
made our music translate.” 
The genre of rap gave indi-
viduals like Kendrick, Dr. 
Dre and Ice Cube an avenue 
to tell their life experi-
ences, and in the process of 
doing so, they received crit-
ical acclaim and success. As 
a testament to this success, 
Kendrick became the first 
rapper and non-classical or 
-jazz musician to win the 
Pulitzer Prize for music in 
2018.

Since my family moved 

to Michigan just before 
I turned five, I only can 
vaguely recall my life in 
California. Memories that 
remain ingrained in my 
mind, 
however, 
are 
the 

times my family went to 
the Santa Fe Springs Swap 
Meet at night to enjoy food 
and carnival games. Under 
the bright California moon-
light, families enjoyed Fer-
ris wheel rides and live 
music while eating elote 
and sharing tacos on sty-
rofoam plates. Using mer-
chandise, vendors created 
an entire maze within the 
Swap Meet for families to 
buy toys, clothes, art and 
decorations. 
The 
Swap 

Meets had it all. Here’s a 
picture of my mom and me 
at our own shop in the Par-
amount Swap Meet. 

We sold toy model cars 

ranging from yellow school 

buses, Dodge Vipers, Mus-
tangs and Lowriders. So 
many 
classic 
Lowriders. 

I remember I used to love 
playing with those cars at 
home on my little carpet 
race track. When I listen to 
Kendrick’s music, it bleeds 
west coast hip-hop: from 
the funky George Clinton 
G-funk inspired bass lines 
on “Wesley’s Theory” to the 
off-kilter flows on “family 
ties”, I begin to feel nostal-
gic for California. Memo-
ries and feelings of what 
life was like for my family 
in Paramount echo through 
my mind.

Thankfully, I learn new 

things about my life in Los 
Angeles through the stories 
my family has shared. My 
brother tells me that one 
time when he was 8 years 
old, his school had to ini-
tiate a lockdown because 
someone running from the 
cops had decided to run 
through the school court-
yard. My sister recalls buy-
ing helado from the local 
street vendor who would 
stroll in front of our house. 
My dad tells stories of his 
experiences being racially 
profiled by cops. My mom 
also recounts the event 
that compelled her to learn 
how to drive. One day, Mom 
was at the bus stop having 
a conversation with her 
friend. Her friend told her 
that on the previous day, 
ICE had raided that exact 
same bus stop. Through-
out the 1980s, Mexican and 

Central American commu-
nities in Los Angeles faced 
the federal government and 
their aggressive immigra-
tion raids that took place 
in homes, bus stops, night 
clubs, agricultural fields 
and warehouses. Sadly, the 
fear of potential ICE raids 
still haunts communities 
today. In our time in Los 
Angeles, we were part of 
the Mexican community. 
We ran our own Swap Meet 
stand, sold Lowrider toy 
model cars and hats and 
shirts with the word “Low-
rider” that I still wear to 
this day — it can’t get more 
L.A. than that. 

Thinking back to where 

I was born and where my 
family lived for so many 
years gives me a stronger 
appreciation for Paramount 
and Kendrick Lamar, since 
my family was part of this 
greater Black and Brown 
community that has shaped 
Los Angeles culture. You 
can’t talk about Los Ange-
les without mentioning the 
impact of Mexican and Cen-
tral American communi-
ties. I’m inspirewd to learn 
more about my Mexican 
identity when I spend time 
reflecting on the fact that 
my family was part of an 
environment so important 
and influential to an art-
ist like Kendrick. I’m even 
more inspired to continue 
learning about my identity 
because Kendrick has con-
tinually shown support and 
love for the Latinx com-
munity. On Aug. 20, 2012, 
Kendrick tweeted, “This is 
LA. I love all my extended 
Latino families. Their mor-
als their culture. This is 
California.” 

Kendrick’s love for his 

extended 
Latinx 
fam-

ily goes far beyond just a 

tweet. When Baby Keem 
and 
Kendrick 
dropped 

their music video for the 
song “family ties,” I was 
blown away by the four-
minute song’s editing and 
the scenes. Throughout the 
entire music video, differ-
ent clips of Keem and Kend-
rick rapping are layered on 
top of each other. I would 
describe the music video as 
having multiple windows 
open on your computer 
desktop except, instead of 
a browser, you have clips of 
Keem and Kendrick. At the 
3:30 minute mark, Kend-
rick raps in front of EZ Cuts 
Barber Shop wearing a som-
brero and what looks like 
a denim zoot suit. Here’s 
a behind the scenes shot 
courtesy of Compton native 
and artist, Lil L. 

When I first saw this 

scene in the music video, 
I had the biggest smile on 
my face. It may look goofy 
or seem out of place, but to 
me, it’s so cool that Kend-
rick is proudly wearing the 
traditional 
Mexican 
hat. 

The sombrero is heavily 
tied to and associated with 
Mexican culture, as it can 
be seen being worn by the 
legendary Mexican singer 
Vicente Fernández Gómez. 
The wide-brimmed hat is 
unmistakable, and I’m sure 
you’ve seen it somewhere 
being associated with a 
mustachioed Mexican guy 
eating tacos and wearing 
a poncho — but just know 
that it’s much more than 

that. 
People 
in 
Central 

America needed to create 
the sombrero to combat 
the harsh sun they dealt 
with on a daily basis. It’s 
such a strong symbol asso-
ciated with Mexican cul-
ture and I’m happy that it’s 
being worn by Kendrick in 
a music video that has been 
seen by 38 million people. 

In 
the 
“family 
ties” 

video, Kendrick is referenc-
ing the sombrero in a more 
tasteful manner as he pairs 
it with the classic zoot suit 
that has its own history 
and connection to Black 
and Latinx communities of 
Los Angeles due to the Zoot 
Suit Riots. The zoot suit has 
historic ties to the Mexican 
American neighborhood of 
East Los Angeles and the 
Black 
neighborhoods 
of 

Watts because, during the 
1930s and ‘40s, this style of 
dress was popular among 
Black and Latinx commu-
nities. These individuals 
would go on to call them-
selves 
“Pachucos;” 
how-

ever, conservative citizens 
were quick to label Mexi-
can 
Americans 
wearing 

the suits as criminals and 
gangsters, 
weaponizing 

the word and using it in a 
derogatory manner. 

Zoot suits would be fur-

ther criminalized during 
World War II when they 
were banned in 1942 due 
to the rationing of wool, 
and those who continued 
to wear the suits were seen 
as unpatriotic. Four days 
after a physical alterca-
tion between U.S. sailors 
and zoot-suiters on June 
3, 1943, about 50 U.S. sail-
ors targeted zoot-suiters 
in Mexican American com-
munities with makeshift 
weapons. This sparked the 
Zoot Suit Riots, which last-

ed until June 8, and during 
this time, Latinos and Black 
Americans were the victims 
of attacks led by racist riot-
ers. Once the riots calmed 
down, Governor Earl War-
ren created a committee to 
investigate the cause of the 
riots. It was determined 
that racism, biased media 
coverage and poor response 
by the Los Angeles Police 
Department were mainly to 
blame.

Clearly, Kendrick Lamar 

cares enough about the sig-
nificance of the zoot suit 
to wear one in the “fam-
ily ties” music video, and I 
personally love it. The con-
sistent appreciation that he 
shows in his work towards 
the Latinx communities of 
L.A makes me an even big-
ger fan of him. From eating 
elote in a palm tree to start 
off the music video for the 
Grammy 
Award-winning 

song “King’s Dead” to rap-
ping the start of his verse of 
“Collard Greens” in Span-
ish, Kendrick is showing 
support.

Knowing the history and 

influence Mexican Ameri-
cans have had and continue 
to have in the city of Los 
Angeles makes me proud to 
be Mexican American and 
born in Paramount, Cali-
fornia. Wherever life takes 
me, I know that I have that 
love for L.A. and the L.A. 
history is in my blood and 
DNA — just like it’s in Ken-
drick Lamar. 

On The Anniversary of 
the Biden Abomination/

Administration

Kendrick Lamar and my “family ties”

Courtesy of Juan Pablo Angel Marcos

KARIS CLARK

MiC Columnist

JUAN PABLO ANGEL MARCOS

MiC Columnist

Design by Maya Sheth

