I unashamedly love Kanye West. The man, the music, the unfiltered and often brash declarations, they all inspire me. Journalists and critics consider him ‘bizarre’ or ‘wild’ and describe him as an unstable megalomaniac. West is, in actuality, an intellectual, a designer, an artist and a revolutionary. The lessons he teaches and sermons he preaches are of the utmost significance to an American culture diluted by political correctness and devoid of sincere artistry.
“They see a Black man with a white woman at the top floor they gone come to kill King Kong.” Yeezus, West’s 2013 Magnum opus, is primarily concerned with the intersection of racism and classicism as conveyed in the preceding lyrics from “Black Skinhead.” Each of his six studio albums is focused on raising black consciousness and acknowledging the injustices stemming from racism. The tracks “Family Business” and “We Don’t Care” from The College Dropout explore the products of urban racism, of Kanye’s upbringing in Chicago. His Late Registration album is largely political, including the track “Crack Music” which discusses the rise of drug culture as an allegory for the burgeoning popularity of black musicians.
As a young white woman, my American experience is framed differently than Kanye’s. My obsession with his music has opened a dialogue between myself and what I formerly considered art not directly intended for me. Kanye’s “they’ll have to take my life before they take my drive” attitude should serve as an inspiration for all young people, regardless of their race, class or gender identities.
In recent interviews, Kanye has listed a litany of artistic inspirations including Ralph Lauren, Walt Disney, Steve Jobs and Shakespeare. Rather than disregarding this list as ludicrous, I view it as reflective of West’s unbridled ambition. West will not accept his societally determined designation as ‘Black Rapper’ and instead aims to become a cultural pacemaker. Creatively, West is intensely innovative and original. During a time when his musical counterparts were decrying the use of auto-tune, Kanye reframed the argument. The difference between Jay Z’s “D.O.A. (Death of Auto-Tune)” and West’s 808s & Heartbreak album is critique versus revitalization. West redefined the ‘rap’ genre, proving these designations are completely arbitrary.
Kanye captivates me. His words are sharp and unsettling but always bred from truth. Beyonce did have a better music video than Taylor Swift. West’s brash indictment of George W. Bush’s supposed racism has evolved into a national discussion of the government’s delayed response to Hurricane Katrina victims. His tone may be brash and his demeanor insensitive, but Kanye West often speaks truth to the injustices surrounding us every day.
As members of a campus community where only 2.5 percent of first-year students identify as African-American men, we should reconsider our own perceptions of race and gender and how they affect our respect of cultural figures like West.
