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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at U Conn chapter.

 

Here’s a fun fact about me: I listen to a lot of what I’ve always half-jokingly referred to as “really inappropriate hip-hop.” I’m talking about the kind of stuff that makes my parents want to cover their ears and would both confuse and disgust my grandparents. It all started with “Tipsy” by J-Kwon. It was one of the tracks on my “Totally Hits 2004” CD (censored, of course) and I had absolutely no idea what “tipsy” meant. I just loved the beat. By the end of 2005, I knew all the words, which, if you’ve ever listened to the song, you’ll know isn’t too difficult.

Fast-forward to high school. I heard my first “mashup” at a party and was completely hooked. After a summer of obsessive downloading and listening to Girl Talk, I knew lots of little chunks of rap that was anywhere from brand new to as old as I was. Fast-forward again to college. I was listening to almost nothing but hip-hop in the car, at the gym, while I studied, and of course at parties. It got me psyched up for just about anything and I loved the way the bass made my car shake. I could rap along with more songs than I’d let on unless I was really feeling outgoing. This was (and still is) my only real party trick, and people tend to be pretty amused when a fairly bubbly white girl gets into a song about “bitches and hoes.”

To be honest, I didn’t think much of the lyrics to these songs. I was self-conscious enough to turn my speakers down when my parents were around or when I was playing DJ at work, but I really wasn’t offended by what any artist was saying. I’m pretty laid back, but as a Women’s Studies student, a feminist, and a LGBTQ ally, I’m not sure why I didn’t mind. Have you ever really listened to the lyrics? Here’s a few lines from “Ms. New Booty,’ which is on my gym playlist on my iPod and I’m pretty sure made an appearance at the prom:

Shh, let me whisper in your ear

Get yourself together, go and buy some new gear

Do something with your hair, then hit the club

Shake your ass and the playas gonna show you some love

So basically, a woman should go make herself look good and look sexy with the goal of men showing her some “love.” Nice, huh? I used to look up lyrics out of curiosity when I heard a new song that I liked, but that was before I watched a documentary called Hip-Hop: Beyond Beats and Rhymes for one of my classes. Suddenly, the lyrics I used to think were just catchy left a bad taste in my mouth.

I would be lying if I said that I changed all my playlists after that and never looked back, but my eyes (and ears) had been opened. As educated young adults, it’s time we at least acknowledge that a huge portion of popular music (and not just hip-hop) objectifies women. This goes beyond the idea that “sex sells.” It’s about seeing women as sex objects, not people. It’s about the glamorization of violence against women and men, and it’s about both subtle and explicit homophobia that’s hidden behind catchy rhymes. Whether you associate any of these things with your favorite party song is up for debate, but what’s certain is that we have turned a blind eye to a major symptom of what’s wrong with our culture.

I’m not asking you to delete all your Lil Wayne songs and pregame to Rascal Flatts. I’m just asking that you become a more conscious consumer of popular music. Don’t let a good beat fool you—the implications of many of the lyrics we know by heart should offend us. Maybe our parents were right about “that garbage” we love to turn all the way up in the car—just a little bit. 

Caitlin is a Communication major with minors in Sociology and Women's Studies at the University of Connecticut. She has always loved to write, but she caught the advertising bug at UConn and now dreams of creating ads that people will always remember. When she's not studying mass media or reading advertising blogs, Caitlin loves making collages, riding horses, and surprising people!