A feminist manifesto from sociologist and journalist Shanita Hubbard that mixes cultural criticism and pop culture history to dissect how hip hop has sidelined Black women's identity and emotional wellbeing.
As a Black feminist who writes extensively about misogynoir and social justice, Shanita Hubbard's relationship with hip-hop has always been complicated. For Hubbard--and many Black people--hip-hop is a beloved genre of music that offers a voice against injustice, a means to elevate cultural consciousness, and, like all music, a reason to dance. But one day, while listening to the song "One Love" Hubbard became increasingly unsettled as one of her favorite rappers told a story about the injustice of mass incarceration of Black men but did not mention the painful truths of the Black women who often must support them and their children through financial and emotional hardship. In fact it, was the opposite, he reduced them to two categories -unsupported lovers or broken-hearted mothers. Hubbard surmised that in her community--and by extension in hip-hop-- there is a hierarchy dictating whose lived experiences takes priority.
Ride-Or-Die comes as a fervent disruption to the notion replayed in hip hop that Black women are not worth healthy love and care unless they live up to impossible, male-defined standards of womanhood.
In a combination of personal narrative and cultural criticism, Hubbard uses hip-hop as a vehicle to explore social issues that distinctly affect Black women but are consistently left out of dialogues about race, gender, and history in and out of Black communities. She deconstructs the archetypes that have been put upon Black women like the "ride or die chick" who sticks with her man through everything and narrow versions of "Black girl magic" that are laced with respectability politics. Hubbard's sociological analysis reveals how these tropes cause more harm than good, leading to gender-based violence, silent suffering
, and even suicidal ideation. No woman is immune to hop-hop's misogynistic messaging, Hubbard asserts, not even sexually liberated mega-rapper Megan Thee Stallion, who was asked for proof when she was shot by her lover Tory Lanez, or pop and R&B titan, Beyonce, who was subjected to public scrutiny and judgment following the infidelity of her husband and iconic rapper Jay-Z.
In a hard-hitting and nuanced narrative
Ride-Or-Die tackles the expectation that Black women must provide unreciprocated love, loyalty, and protection to everyone around them. Using both old-school and contemporary figures as examples Hubbard dissects how music and pop culture echo that sentiment. She addresses violence masked as bravado, emotional abuse described as love, and unrealistic pressures of body, sensuality, and work ethic that often ask us to forego our intuition, safety and security. She charges Black men and others to hold each other accountable for their contributions to these narratives, taking them to task on long-held behaviors in order to foster communal healing.
Ride-Or-Die is more than a book about hip hop. It is a beautifully rendered feminist manifesto on the importance of Black women's emotional lives.
