(The following ran as an opinion article on the editorial page of The Dallas Morning News)
Next month, the U.S. Supreme Court will decide whether to hear the case of Taylor Bell, an aspiring rapper suspended from his Mississippi high school for recording a song critical of two coaches accused of misconduct with female students. A nationwide group of music professors and rap musicians, represented by our Dallas law firm, has filed a brief supporting Bell.
Bell, then a senior with a nearly spotless record, composed and recorded a rap song about the alleged misconduct. Bell’s song identified the coaches, and — in language common to rap — used profane and violent language. Bell posted the song online. For this, he was suspended and eventually sent to alternative school. A divided Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals upheld the suspension.
Bell’s case is the latest in a disturbing series of instances where America’s schools and courts treat rap music as inherently dangerous. Prosecutors have used rap lyrics as evidence of criminal behavior in hundreds of cases. And there have been several reported cases of school discipline associated with rap songs.
The Fifth Circuit held Bell’s lyrics constituted a threat against the coaches. By taking these lyrics literally, the Fifth Circuit essentially delegitimized rap as an art form. But rap most certainly is art, allowing it First Amendment protection. Like all poets, rappers use figurative language. They engage in sophisticated wordplay. And they rely on exaggeration and hyperbole in creating the fictional characters who narrate their songs.
Unfortunately, rap continues to be vilified. No other form of music — or any art form — endures such treatment. No one suspected Johnny Cash of having “shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.” And no law enforcement agencies investigated whether Eric Clapton really shot the sheriff. Research suggests that this double standard is rooted, at least in part, from stereotypes about the people of color primarily associated with rap, as well as the misconception that rap engenders violence.
Actually, the history of rap contradicts this narrative. Rap developed largely as analternative to the violent gang culture pervasive in America’s cities. Rap “battles” replaced actual fighting. And in the years that followed, rap has offered countless young people the opportunity to escape poverty. As Ice T once said: “If I hadn’t had a chance to rap, I’d either be dead or in jail.” Moreover, recent research reveals rap’s exceptional power as a tool to engage middle and high school students in their studies. This research suggests that schools should be embracing rap as a teaching tool, not penalizing it. In short, rap has a bad rap.
The simple truth is that many people don’t like rap. And they have that right. But neither our schools nor our judges are empowered to act as music critics or culture police. Certainly, no American should be punished simply for his choice of artistic medium.
Bell used his music to draw attention to disturbing allegations of misconduct. He composed a song, recorded it in a professional studio, and released it online — hardly the acts of someone planning actual violence. The school punished Bell not because of anything he did, but because of what he said and how he said it.
The Fifth Circuit’s opinion evidences its complete misunderstanding of rap as an art form. The court’s opinion refers to “numerous spelling and grammatical errors” in Bell’s song, an almost laughable criticism given that rappers, like other poets, frequently invent and distort both words and phrases. This criticism is like telling William Shakespeare his sonnets stink because they don’t always rhyme.
The Fifth Circuit concluded that Bell’s song threatened the very foundations of education. With respect to the judges of the Fifth Circuit, many things threaten public education in America: absentee parents, recalcitrant legislators, inadequate funding, poor teacher salaries, and poverty to name a few. But rap does not.
Here’s hoping the justices of the Supreme Court realize that — and decide to do something about it.
Chad Baruch represents professors and rappers supporting Bell.