Unravelling the White Skinned Devil:The Transformative Power of Hip-Hop

by Marcus Santo Domingo

If the white man is the devil, is there any hope for him? If there is hope, where is it? As a soul who exists in the body of a white man, I have found a transformative power in Hip-Hop.  As more and more media outlets cover the massive mobilization efforts around the world against existing structures, more people are becoming aware and wrestling with the fact that these people are brutalized by the structures that are built by my ancestors. 

For most of my childhood I was never interested in religious imagery. This began to change when I was 17. My beard came in and I let my hair grow out, leading people to comment, “you look like Jesus now.” Once I got to college and started studying history, I realized that from most of the world’s perspective, if there was such a thing as the devil, and it did manifest itself in the material world, it would be in the form of this so-called white Jesus. The outrageous genocide of countless peoples and cultures in the name and image of this blond haired, blue eyed ‘savoir’ is unmatched in human history. With this realization I began to accept the fate my soul had chosen before entering this world.

Overridden with anxiety, guilt, fear, doubt, and countless other inhibiting emotions, I was lost and confused with how to approach this dilemma. I wonder if I am destined to be an oppressive force in this lifetime, or if there is some way to transform what I represent. Insert Hip-Hop. The multicultural, transglobal phenomenon that originated in the Bronx with roots in the African diaspora, is near impossible to define, but its impact on individuals and the world as a whole presents a relevant approach to our devilish ancestry.     

If white people are to change their ways, the first step is acknowledging our reality. This is currently impossible if we solely rely on the common education we get. The current education system presents history and colonization as an event of the past, allowing people to distance themselves and avoid confronting the horrific truths of our existence.

Hip-Hop provides a medium that helps combat the deceit that takes place within the existing power structures. Since its inception, Hip-Hop has inspired, manifested, and shed light on lives and narratives that are often left out of public discourse and therefore our collective consciousness. Representing the original essence of Hip-Hop are the works of Professor A.L.I, Ras Ceylon, and KRS-One, all of whom spread knowledge through the accessible form of an album. These artists/teachers present quality lessons and give an in-depth education that parallels that of a university level course’s complexity. That’s no exaggeration, Professor A.L.I’s 2015 album Xfactor functions as the outline for an accredited UC Berkeley history course where each class is based around a song from the album, supplemented with readings to highlight the knowledge within the lyrics.

Professor A.L.I, Ras Ceylon, and KRS-One, all illuminate the truth about how we got to where we are today, and the implications of that history. In Professor A.L.I.’s song Diasporal Histories, he chronicles unnerving narratives of the slave trade. The graphic history of our brothers and sisters who were taken captive against their will is often learned from reading a dry and out of touch textbook in a history class, lulling students to sleep, an inappropriate reaction to such atrocities. By expressing these narratives through verse, over an instrumental, A.L.I. captures the deeply emotional and spiritual side of these histories that is impossible to convey in conventional history books. 

The astute reader is probably wondering to themselves right about now, “is this dude really saying that just because he listened to some rap records about the struggles people faced he has freed himself from the horrors of his bloodline?” No not at all, like I said, this is just the first step. I believe that if we (my white brothers and sisters) can get a glimpse of the reality we exist in, and truly see the lynchings committed by police, hear the cries from the slaves entrapped in labor camps at prisons, and feel the heartache that comes with that rude awakening, we will be lead to genuinely ask ourselves, “How can I combat these power dynamics?” As people born into places of privilege, we will never experience these horrors for ourselves, we will never truly understand the injustices that are faced, but this is exactly why it is imperative to keep educating ourselves and immerse ourselves in cultural movements created and led by those who do.

Hip-Hop taught me that in order to free ourselves from these corrupt systems, we need to focus our time and energy on building new justice-oriented and humane communities. It is the Hip-Hop nation that allows me to critically understand my spanish, american, white, and other oppressive identities. It is the teachings of these artists that help me begin to recreate myself as a HipHoppa embarking on the life-long journey to stand for Peace, Love, Unity, and Having fun.

As I sit in the studio my friends built in their garage, the bass drum beats away my pain and I can free myself from these identities and feel the warm embrace of God’s forgiveness, then the instrumental fades out and I must confront who I am once again.   

Whole Student Education With a Hip-Hop Lens

The latest release from Professor A.L.I. is not an album, but a succinct text that breaks down the hurdles in education that keeps schools and teachers from serving the whole student.

Written under his real name, Kalyan Balaven offers the following practical insight that touches on his previous works in Hip-Hop Ed, but let’s teachers understand what it looks like when students get to rock out their own show:

“I believe that while a scholar may have knowledge, it is the performer who has the audience. I purposefully use a dynamic and fluid approach to the delivery of content in my courses, in order to establish the austerity that I seek without engaging in moral orthopedics. I believe that if a show is engaging, then no one will desire to leave their seats, and by establishing an expectation of engagement in my class, I can expect students to engage in active learning. However, I believe once the show has started that the show must go on, but without the emcee; this means the audience needs to become the performers. Therefore, I use a descending scale of class facilitation for myself, increasingly shifting the burden of content and skill direction towards students. The goal for my courses is for all learners to be co-creators of knowledge, and the ultimate test of this is being able to step out of my class and see my students engage in the machinations of learning without a conductor, thus teaching themselves. By the end of each semester, my students will direct their own authentic learning, because knowledge acquisition has become their Pavlovian bell, so in the vein of the Hip-Hop eMCee L.L. Cool J, it’s their turn to ‘Rock the Bells’ (LL Cool J, Rock the Bells, 1985).”

If you are an educator teaching during this pandemic, amidst the distraction of devices, and/or navigating the doldrums of teaching in a system that feels like the “industry of education” as opposed to a culture of joyous learning, the following text is a must read:

The Whole Student and Hip-Hop Education

by Kalyan Ali Balaven


The moment above was filled with equal parts pride and sadness. Here I was graduating one of my favorite students, Carter Wilson, who I had met four years earlier when I first began my journey in the independent school world. Up until then, I was a public school kid who ended up working in public schools and public charter schools, but never thought that the artist within me had a place in the classroom. Even when I won an Urban Teacher Award from Cal State Hayward in the late 1990’s, I never imagined the idea of Hip-Hop Education. It was students like Carter who became ambassadors to me in the independent school world and introduced me to the freedom of innovation in education when it is centered on the student and this idea forced the collision of the artist and educator within me.

Professor A.L.I., where the A stands for authenticity, L for love, and I for intellect; these respectively spoke to the idea of being true to oneself, expressing empathy, and exercising the mind.  These in turn introduce three methodologies in Hip-Hop Education which speak to developing a sense of self-awareness, while understanding and sharing the perspective of others, and expanding ones own mind.  I began to frame my approach to teaching in this way, while constructing whole courses on Hip-Hop History using blended learning to introduce students to the concepts of culture, cultural syncretism, layers of history, voice, literacy, spirituality, and globalism.  It was an effective approach because it considered the student as a whole.

This website/blog, social media, albums, and writing would follow, all centered on the idea of educating through the music and art of Hip-Hop. Hip-Hop Education was wholistic in spirit, and the artist-educator in me thrived being able to tell the story in so many ways.  Whether I was teaching AP History or one of my famous seminars, I found ways to touch the senses of the students such that they experienced history–and to do so without taking a particular stance– to me, the primary source was up for interpretation and my role was to help students make their own connections and find their voice in talking about it all.  This was whole student in spirit, and it was “Hip-Hop” to the core.

One etymology of the term Hip-Hop is that it is a form of intelligent movement; the idea here is that “being hip” is vernacular for being in the know, to have gnosis, or knowledge of something, and that “hop” is a verb that means to move, and that together they speak to this idea of intelligent movement.  Hip-Hop Education is truly about moving students in this way–and its something I’ve wholly embraced in my career–after all I realized a scholar may have knowledge, but an M.C. has the audience, and Professor A.L.I. could be both.

So back in 2012, as the June sun beamed down upon our heads, Carter would walk across the stage; and in The Athenian School tradition he picked an instructor to give a one-minute graduation speech on his behalf.   Carter chose me and I chose to deliver the speech as a rap, sans beat; it seemed appropriate since Carter was at the time an up a coming rapper in his own right–one who has now established his credibility as a lyricist and artist in the Seattle area.

At Athenian, both Carter and I had become suns; we found a supportive community, one that encouraged artistic expression and explored ways in which educators and students could be learners outside of the traditional classroom setting.  My time in the independent school world had melted the icy wall I had created between my artistry and role as educator within.  The Google searches that easily revealed the presence of my artist alter ego, followed by the calls to recite spoken word and acapella poetry, had already blown my carefully constructed cover as a mild mannered educator.

When this happened I saw an immense swell of support and love from a community that stood by its own.  Carter saw that too, and as he started to take the lyrics from his notepad to the mic, he too found his strongest support coming from the Athenian campus family.  Artistry thrives when it is cultivated with love, and we both found that from our respective peers.  So we too began to shine in our own light.



As I now turn to leave Athenian and carry the blazing torch for Whole Student Education to the Dunn School, as their new Head of School–I’m turning over most of the writing on this site* to my former students like Carter Wilson and my fellow Hip-Hop Educators to continue to the work I started in Hip-Hop Education.  

*I’m always down to drop a feature verse 🙂