Drop a beat yo!

Yo! So over the past couple of weeks a few friends and I have been really into writing raps about random topics (I have also learned to beat box a tiny bit). So I wanted to share a few that I have written with all of you. Funny story: tomorrow there is a rap contest on campus and my friends are going to be using the first rap for it, I sadly cannot join because its purim…ok DROP A BEAT!!

RACE:

To be white in Africa is somewhat of a crime
Cant identify with oppression and stuck in this bind

We have stolen resources, occupied others’ land
We have adjusted to privilege and have blood on our hands

Tack on being American to this tarnished existence
And there aint no way to be part of the resistance

So what should we do when consumed by guilt
And cant contribute to the revolutions others have built

Steve Biko says we have a place in this fight
Convincing those with like skin of the human plight

So we must stay on the outside to earn our place
Solidarity conquered by the color of my face

But see white and black are not true classifications
Just terms used to separate artificial nations

Construction and resources create this divide
Leading to an unequal distribution of pride

But as much as I care I just can’t relate
Because my skin has never been the object of hate

My sympathy will only last as I am looking down
As a white privileged American abroad in Cape Town

FAVORITE FOOD:

Steak is so tasty I could eat it all the time
Mm in any form, pepper, filet, rib or even prime

Its juicy succulence makes me overflow with joy
Uch whats wrong with vegetarians they cant get this satisfaction from soy

If people could be satiated by such simple things
Perhaps there would not be awful dictators and recalcitrant kings

Then the world would be a better place
People could live without fear because of such a heavenly taste

I guess it doesn’t matter much when I think about it now
Since no matter what your killing lots of cows

But the wonders of the world such as a the perfect cut
Could save so many from the proverbial doors closing shut

If we focus on simplicity and don’t salivate over power
The world could stop being thorny and bloom into a beautiful flower

SOMETHING RANDOM THAT COMES TO MIND:

Remember the days when feminism was cool
When Lilith fair rocked with Sarah McLaughlin and Jewel

Haters say important issues are now old news
Since some people recognize a woman’s right to choose

The same people say feminism has run its course
Now its just angry lesbians using unnecessary force

The wage gap isn’t the only remnant of this fate
What about countless unstable emotional states

We ignore the issues and disguise them as norms
So girls hurt themselves to perfect their forms

What about in countries where agency isn’t an option
And they say god said so to mask the corruption

You see equality isn’t the same as being the same
Think about that when you see a woman sexualized and defamed

Its so much more than a mans dollar to a woman's seventy cents
Its about quality of life are you really that dense

Feminism is more than a societal irritation
Its about unequal access to resources for marginalized populations

So lets stop classifying woman as the other
Open your eyes to the truth and oh yea word to your mother.

Gosh add this to African Dance and I think I could be a triple threat…umm not really. Anyway, so things here have been going quite smoothly. I climbed another mountain on Sunday. I know you have all been so sad that no mountains have been discussed recently so I made sure to let you know that they continue to be a constant in my life in Cape Town.

So I have discovered yet another interesting connection between my archaeology class and my poverty development and globalization class. While societies of the African past are looked down upon and classified as backward and primitive, they were completely self-sustained communities. While there were distinct separations between the upper and lower classes, every person had access to the resources they needed within the confines of their own homestead. When this was not the case, the wealthy were relied upon to provide what was necessary to those who were not as wealthy. In the Westernized world that is constantly patting itself on the back while simultaneously criticizing countries that have not adopted the same system and feel the need to colonize and shed light upon the darkness, this is not so. Globalization has made every country dependant upon others and has segmented every industry. Subsequently, no society has full control over its own fate. Yes, some countries place themselves in better positions within the global commodity chains that determine the winners, potential winners and losers within the world market, but no country’s place is safe. Changes in every country impact the process of production since for example cotton is picked in one country, then sent to another country to be used to make a shirt and the shirt is then sold somewhere else. If social upheaval, economic decline, an oil crisis or a military coup occur in any of the aforementioned countries, the entire process suffers. Not only is this system very unstable but it also creates very defined categories of those who benefit and those who suffer. The rich management folk make money and the working class is exploited and provided with unlivable conditions and wages. One significant downfall of the economic development of a country is that it ultimately helps those that don’t need it and does so at the expense of members of the lower echelons of society who are given little opportunity to work their way up.

As I say this, I know that I am one of the benefactors of this system. I know that I can complain as much as I want about capitalism but in the end, it is exactly what has given me the opportunity to pursue the education that has led me to this conclusion. So once again, I am ranting about a plight that is not mine, and I am only doing so from a distance. But even so, I think it is clearly impressive that the dependency that our capitalist culture necessitates is vacant from the African culture I previously mentioned.

Oh and of course Shabbat. It was quite fun to bring friends from my program with us to Milnerton. However I must say that when you have to explain a religious service that can be interpreted as patriarchal by those who have never experienced it before (and those who have as well I guess), it makes you more conscious about what can be interpreted as strange or dare I say oppressive within an environment that has become so commonplace. To explain a mechitza and the women standing in place while the men dance around the bimah is quite difficult to do in a way that does not make orthodox ritual sound anti-women. While I have not thought about my issues with gender within Orthodoxy so much, on Friday night I think that they surfaced. I know that many women are fully capable of being inspired within an orthodox service and ever since I have come to Cape Town, I would put myself in that category. But being cut off from the activity within the service forces me to approach prayer from a very individual perspective and while I can value that it might seem difficult to do if you are not used to the service and don’t know how it inspires you.

Jumping around to yet another topic, in my Liberation in Southern Africa class, we had yet another speaker directly involved with the struggle come to speak. I was in the presence of Dennis Goldberg, a white member of the South African communist party (Jewish too…yay) who was the weapons maker for the MK, the (unofficial) armed wing of the ANC, who was arrested along with other famous members of the ANC like Walter Sisulu and Ahmed Kathrada, who was tried in the Rivonia Trial in 1963 along with Nelson Mandela and many others for attempting to overthrow the state and who served 22 years in prison as a result of his involvement with the struggle. To hear a white man speak about all that he has done in such a humble manner was astounding. None of these men believe that their actions were extraordinary but rather action based upon an obligation to better the world. While this tone has been present both in Nelson Mandela’s autobiography and in the previous talk I have written about given by Neville Alexander, to hear this humility, this natural concern and desire from a person who could have easily avoided the same responsibility and the same danger by simply staying outside of the organizations of which he was a part, was remarkable and riveting. Throughout his whole talk, he cracked jokes, he was extremely gentile in his demeanor, he was none of the things a person would expect of someone who was imprisoned for multiple decades and placed in a situation that would strip most of their dignity and their passion for the causes that placed them there. If I was physically capable of crying, I might have done so as I was listening to this man’s words.

South African Ulpan:

Buckey – noun – buck-ee – a pick up truck

In order to defy societal gender norms, Gretchen, an ardent feminist, purchased a buckey when she was in need of a new automobile.

Happy Purim!!!! (details of my purim activities will be included in the next post)