Pimps Up, Ho's Down: Hip Hop's Hold on Young Black Women

Too Hot To Be Bothered: Black Women and Sexual Abuse

53 too hot to be bothered Black Women and Sexual Abuse [W]e, black women, have always been supportive of black men in the struggle against racism, even while we were being raped. Even while rape and assault has been going on in our communities. This is important because so many react as if talking about rape and assault in our communities is somehow not being supportive of black men, or as if it were not being loyal to black men. —Aishah Shahidah Simmons, Independent Filmmaker1 The larger question is, “What transpires in our community that allows such a thing to be on the minds of young men who are six and seven years old?” —Creg Williams, former superintendent of the St. Louis Public Schools, in response to the sexual assault of a second-grader by twelve of her peers in spring 2006 at a school playground during recess “ ave you seen the tape?” a rather smart female student inquired of the R. Kelly tape. “That was him! And that was obviously a very young girl. She had to ask him for sexual directives!” But no sooner than I had proceeded to lecture about interstate trafficking of child pornography (we were in New York, the R. Kelly tape was made in Illinois), another sex tape surfaced featuring Louisiana rapper Mystikal. These Jive Record label mates obviously had a predilection for video recording their peccadilloes. Whether those peccadilloes are more accurately described as consensual pornography or plain old sexual abuse continues to be debated in the court of public opinion. And the mainstreaming of hip hop has broadened the umbrella under which male celebrities, specifically, can seek and acquire protection from allegations of sexual violence. Industry movers and shakers, legal eagles, hip hop magazines, blogs, a multiracial fan base, and sundry artists rise to the occasion with the result being the minimalization of the crimes (reduced sentencing plea deals) and the further demoralization of the survivors who become tagged as groupies , hoochies, and chickenheads. While it is undeniable that blacks have been used in various ways to further our national dialogues on sex and violence , sociological and crime studies have found that young women, regardless of race, are more likely to be raped or sexually assaulted and young black women are least likely to report such violence. The usual racial defensiveness or protectiveness of black communities minimizes the negative impact of sexual violence within black communities, especially when the perpetrator is a celebrity. Feminism helped to politicize rape, which has led to legislation such as the Violence Against Women Act of 1998 and rape shield laws, which funded programs to address domestic violence and sexual abuse and disallowed probing into women’s past sexual histories in rape cases, respectively. Black Women and Sexual Abuse / 54 Rape shield statutes were invoked during Mike Gerard Tyson v. The State of Indiana and challenged in The State of Colorado v. Kobe Bean Bryant. Feminists’ treatises on rape have historically led to interesting developments around the issue of black-on-black rape and the protectiveness of black communities. In the nineteenth century, the history of black male lynching on trumped-up charges of interracial rape were referred to as “southern horrors” by feminist Ida B. Wells in her withering newspaper editorials and pamphlets.2 Almost a century later in the 1970s, feminist tracts such as Susan Brownmiller’s popular book Against Our Will presented highly problematic treatments of Emmett Till and the interracial sexual abuse of black women. In their respective eras, and with salient resonance even today, both contributed to the racial defensiveness of African American communities . Each in their own way ironically contributes to the erasure of black women’s sexual abuse by black men. In efforts to distance themselves from the “paranoia” and overbearing “victim” status conferred on women by feminism , hip hop generation feminist writers like Katie Roiphe (The Morning After: Sex, Fear and Feminism) reject the notion that we live in a “rape culture.” According to Roiphe: As I see it, there are more than two sides to any issue. . . . The image that emerges from feminist preoccupations with rape and sexual harassment is that of women as victims, offended by a professor’s dirty joke, verbally pressured into sex by peers. This image of a delicate woman bears a striking resemblance to that fifties ideal my mother and the other women of her generation fought so hard to...