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