I feel confident enough to say that most Americans are oblivious of Indigenous Americans’ experiences. I count myself among those people. However, over the past year, I have gained new insight into the lives of a disempowered group of Americans. Yes, I was on a reservation, I have met Native Peoples and I have watched some really powerful documentaries. That is not what grabbed my attention, though. The thing that really wound up affecting me was Native American rap.
Yes, rap.
Rap music may be traditionally linked to Black American and low-income communities of color, but it has migrated. Of course, that’s not all that surprising, with Eminem, The Beastie Boys, Vanilla Ice and other White rappers of note. You have probably never heard of Frank Waln, Nataanii Means or RedCloud, the Indigenous rappers who are paving the way for a cultural revolution.
The filters that cover every inch of our lives are what restrict us from being exposed to such incredible and thought-provoking music. Social media, which should be the hero of all things strange and obscure has become a sea of political diatribes, recycled recipe videos and comedy that fits into our preconceived notions of race, culture, gender and economics. It is so easy in the whitewashed world built around us to forget that Native Americans don’t just exist in history textbooks. Indigenous Americans are still here, and they are on the verge of an all-out rebellion against the forces of oppression. Rap is acting as a stepping stone for that revolution.
Thanks to my University, I had the privilege of seeing Frank Waln, a Sicangu Lakota musician, perform on campus. In preparation for the concert I listened to his music. At the time, I was also taking a course on Native American literature, so I had some context for Waln’s songs. I will be honest, his music isn’t all that catchy; I do not believe that it will ever become widely popular. Nevertheless, his music his ground-breaking, and his performance left me speechless.
Along with Waln, came Sam and Micco Sampson, a flute and dance duo who performed in back of the rapper. Every single song was a testament to the hushed-up cultures of Native Peoples lying beneath our feet. However, between songs, Micco and Waln told stories that gave life to their already-lively performance. Some were stories from the long oral traditions of their respective cultures, others were stories about being Native in a White America, and still, others were about family life among Indigenous Peoples.
What was so amazing to me about these stories, though, were their unapologetic “Nativeness.” There was talk of losing Native language and clashing with White academia, but all with fantastically timed humor. Another touching moment came when both the Sampson brothers and Waln paid tribute to their parents. Waln discussed his song “My Stone”, which recounts the experiences of the rapper’s mother as a single parent raising a child on a reservation, while Micco discussed his father, Will Sampson’s legacy as the Chief in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”
The whole experience allowed me to come to terms with how little I knew about these people. I realized that these people are still here and are trying to be heard. I realized that we are sitting atop a mountain of cultures and stories, waiting to be told. Also, some of these stories are being told through rap, surprisingly enough.
Saying that I “found” Native American rap sounds a little too reminiscent of Christopher Columbus. So, I’ll say that I bumped into it. Bumping into Native American rap was one of the most interesting artistic experiences that I’ve ever had. I never even knew that it existed. However, I am a better person for having bumped into it.
It is extremely important, especially now, to breach our own comfort zones, consider experiences unlike our own and try new things, regardless of how "odd" or "foreign" they may seem. We have much more to learn from each other than we tend to believe.
Check out some Native American rap here:
