AbstractHip Hop has spread to all parts of the globe and has had a profound influence on mainstream culture. Hip Hop is firmly rooted in African American culture and follows a long lineage of black music. Since its birth in the United States it has spread to all parts of the globe in an uncontrolled and organic way. For some countries such as Puerto Rico, the influence of hip hop has had time to mature and develop in comparison to countries like El Salvador and Guatemala where an underground movement is beginning. I will delve into the factors behind this musical advancement in Puerto Rico and explore the seeds that have created the Central American movements in Guatemala and El Salvador. I hope to touch on the erasure of black bodies in the Americas and how Hip Hop culture has allowed them to be seen and heard on their terms and is an inherently political act in itself just to exist and express yourself. How were the conditions in New York during the 1970s when Hip Hop emerged similar to the conditions in Puerto Rico and Central America? What are the impacts of Settler Colonialism and racism across the colonized Latin American nations? Capitalism and the strong adoption of Neoliberalist policies have created stark injustices and inequality for many of the poor of this world. Out of these conditions of oppression we see Hip Hop emerge as a vehicle for expression.
La Semilla Hip Hop has spread to all parts of the globe, and African-American culture has profoundly influenced mainstream culture. Since its development in the Bronx during the onset of criminalization and neoliberal devastation of Black and Puerto Rican communities, Hip Hop has found expression throughout and has spread to all parts of the globe, uncontrolled and organic. For Puerto Rico, the influence of Hip Hop has had time to develop and, to some degree, become a commercially viable means of sustaining oneself, in comparison to countries like El Salvador and Guatemala, where an underground movement has been developing over the past two decades but still lacks the infrastructure to sustain many independent artists. Further, Hip Hop scenes provide a space for the visibility of the working poor, marginalized, and Afro-Latin Americans who have been criminalized and systematically shut out of society. Hip Hop is often a medium for denouncing injustice, colonialism, and racism and asserting rights and articulation of liberation (Robin Kelley). This paper delves into the factors that have led to how Hip Hop has developed in La Isla and Central America (Guatemala and El Salvador) and how youth have adapted this form by blending traditional music forms to create unique regional sounds used as vehicles for social and political expression. Hip Hop emerged as a form of resistance to neoliberal racial capitalism as it expanded from New York in the 1970s to Puerto Rico and Central America. Capitalism and the strong adoption of Neoliberal policies have created stark injustices and inequality for many of the poor of this world. My focus will be on Puerto Rico and exploring how the economic conditions on the island and programs like Operation Bootstrap have brought many Puerto Ricans to the United States as forms of cheap labor. This Puerto Rican diaspora would allow Hip Hop to reach the island at its birth as the diaspora flowed freely back and forth from Borinken to New York. Borinken is the Taino name for the island of Puerto Rico, and I use the two interchangeably throughout this paper. I will then attempt to critically analyze the comparisons between how Hip Hop arrived in Central American countries like Guatemala and El Salvador. These places marred by civil wars and imperialist control by the United States government and transnational corporations have a vastly different story of how Hip Hop arrived and was ultimately adopted as a vehicle for change. As Hip Hop scholar Jeff Chang states, “The tension between culture and commerce would become one of the main storylines of the Hip Hop generation.” (Chang 134). Consequently, tension has been raised differently within the United States, Puerto Rico, El Salvador, and Guatemala. Let's dig deep into the soil and see what we can uncover. The Rhizome Hip Hop has spread across the globe like a rhizome and deterritorialized itself. I use it in the sense of how Deleuze and Guattari described the metaphor of a rhizome’s unpredictability, its resistance to being contained or boxed in, a truly organic and spontaneous growth. That is Hip Hop to me. It is a rhizome because it was able to adapt and be adopted by so many cultures around the world that are far removed from its genesis in the slums of the South Bronx, New York, created by Black and Puerto Ricans primarily as a response to the horrid conditions that they were living in and being exposed to by the state in the form of racist policing, and economic disenfranchisement. Deleuze and Guattari describe the rhizome as: “The rhizome itself assumes very diverse forms..., any point of a rhizome can be connected to anything other, and must be…, A rhizome ceaselessly establishes connections between semiotic chains, organizations of power, and circumstances relative to the arts, sciences, and social struggles…, The point is that a rhizome or multiplicity never allows itself to be overcoded. A rhizome may be broken and shattered at a given spot, but it will start up again on one of its old lines or new lines…, perhaps one of the most important characteristics of the rhizome is that it always has multiple entryways.” (Deleuze and Guattari 12). These ideas and theories around a rhizome help us understand the emergence of Hip Hop culture and its span worldwide. It was uncontrolled and spread because of the colonialist conditions in Latin America that have subjugated and marginalized Black and Indigenous people. The rhizomatic properties of Hip Hop culture are powerful and inspire all my work. These catalysts are not strictly New York phenomena. With the spread of capitalism and neoliberalism across the planet, the number of poor and wretched has increased. State violence keeps the capital flowing, and the number of people subjugated has also increased, creating these openings to embrace a culture and style that speaks directly to the people in these communities (Fanon). This culture has allowed them to express themselves creatively, release pent-up angst, and maintain visibility while the state actively tries to erase and criminalize their existence. This research project is important to me in many ways. As a first-generation mixed Puerto Rican and El Salvadoran, I have a direct connection to these lands and have made it my life’s mission to reclaim and rediscover my roots. As a young boy, I became enamored with Hip Hop culture. I recall transcribing lyrics of songs word by word, pausing and rewinding cassette tapes back and forth, dissecting every rhyme scheme, pattern, cadence, and flow that rappers used. If the rewind button did not work, I would use a pencil to help rewind the cassette to the start. I would attend Hip Hop events and marvel at how break-dancers would perform amazing feats of acrobatic artistry on the floor, battling. The art of battling is a crucial component of Hip Hop in all its elements. Battling is essentially going head-to-head with your opponent and seeing who can best the other, with the audience crowning the winner. This was very important given that most people gravitated towards Hip Hop to escape the trappings of street life and gang life, which I will address later in the paper. It was an avenue to make legitimate money and try to escape the violence of the streets; the lines were always blurred. I want to find a way to bridge these two connections and investigate how Hip Hop arrived in these countries and what the circumstances were. I want to discover which regional cultural elements were fused and blended to create something unique. Puerto Rico, El Salvador, and Guatemala are countries with diverse histories that have shaped their acceptance and adoption of Hip Hop in different ways. Political turmoil has also affected the lyrics of the music, the kinds of messages that are conveyed, and the motivations behind the lyrics. I hope to scratch the surface of this amazing web of research and contribute a provocative piece that can answer some of these pressing questions and, along the way, find some of the missing pieces to my story. Grafting My work uses an ethnographic approach to conducting my research. It is very important that while conducting my research, I do not fall into the extractive cycles of many other researchers before me. In this vein, I slowly built relationships with the artists I interviewed over a year before I began my interviews, I made it a point to conduct my interviews in person rather than over Zoom to absorb the vibe and make an authentic connection. This research draws from a lifetime as an admirer of Hip Hop and participant in the culture. It’s taken a year and a half to visit El Salvador, Guatemala, and Puerto Rico, many times to conduct interviews and gather information for my research. During these visits, friendships were forged with the artist that extended beyond the project. I needed to give back as much as possible and help these artists continue creating art. My work builds off the work of Deleuze and Guatarri, Raquel Z. Rivera, Jeff Chang, Robin Kelley, Yoel Gaetan, Marisol Lebron, Alejandro Jacky, Steven Osuna, Elizabeth Bell, and James Spady. Through several interviews, I was able to piece together the oral histories of some of the pioneering artists in Puerto Rico, Guatemala, and El Salvador. This region has been ignored but has a Hip Hop movement that is currently exploding in popularity I interviewed Dj Flako, one of the pioneers and founding members of the Bacteria Soundsystem crew, one of the first waves of artists making Hip Hop music in Guatemala, and Gabriela Bolten, one of the waves of new revolutionary female emcees making waves in Guatemala's underground, I also interviewed Omne, a producer who is part of the second wave of artists creating Hip Hop music out of San Salvador, and Puerto Rican music historian Yoel Gaetan. All these artists allowed me to see the varying perspectives and generational approaches to Hip Hop and their thoughts on the future of the culture in their respective countries. One thing is certain: Central America is not a monolith, and each country has a unique story of how Hip Hop has been adopted by the people and supported or villainized by the state and its current trajectory. "Broken glass everywhere" (Grandmaster Flash) Hip Hop was born in the late 1970s in New York in the South Bronx, many would say, by the great DJ Kool Herc. He was the first to take the drum break of many popular disco, funk, and soul records and play those parts only. The drum break is the part in the song where there is no singing, and the drummer typically solos or plays alone with musical accompaniment. As they were to be called, these breakbeats were instrumental in creating Hip Hop music. During these breaks, DJ Kool Herc would say clever rhymes and give announcements in style derived from Jamaican dancehall parties known as “toasting.” This would be the beginning of the Emcee, or rapper. There were bubbling movements across many of the boroughs and one of the great innovators was Grandmaster Flash and the Furious 5. Grandmaster Flash was a student of the emerging art of DJing. He would study the craft and create equipment that would revolutionize Hip Hop and DJ culture. Two of his greatest innovations were the juggling technique, where he would cue up the same breakbeat record on both of his turntables and, with his mixer switch seamlessly from beat to beat, left to right, essentially looping the same beat segment indefinitely; this would allow more time for the break dancers to dance and for the emcees to rap over. His other great innovation was punch phrasing, in which a small beat segment was isolated, such as a horn stab, and punched in over the breakbeat as it played. This added a layer of complexity and dynamics to a DJ show and made the performances a lot more interactive than just playing a record from start to finish. Early Hip Hop was geared towards the party vibe; DJs were the main stars, and your popularity relied on how well you could rock the party. In this vein, early emcees would perform routines, and rap groups would rhyme in a chant style to pump up the party. These early exhibitions did not rely on super complex rhyme schemes and patterns but were more performative in their crowd participation aspect. Hip Hop is a revolutionary act of art and visibility, reclaiming the narrative by and for the community. The back-and-forth participation with the audience was and remains a crucial component of being an emcee, not the sole component, but an important one. The dress of early Hip Hop artists reflects the place that Hip Hop was in as far as still trying to determine and define its identity. Many artists would dress in eccentric attire, mimicking groups like Parliament Funkadelic and Earth Wind and Fire, with leather pants, feathers, and spikes. This is best reflected in acts such as early pioneer and super influential Hip Hop legend Afrika Bambaataa and the Zulu Nation. The influence of groups like Run DMC and Eric B and Rakim brought the cultural street style to the forefront. In essence, the identity of Hip Hop was beginning to materialize. Dapper Dan was a famous clothes designer and would take popular prints of the time, like Louis Vuitton and Gucci, and tailor custom clothes for artists and others in the hood. He was the main stylist for a new generation of Hip Hop and redefined the genre. He works in collaboration with Gucci at his atelier shop in Harlem. The conditions in the South Bronx were dismal, and many young men and women banded together in various street gangs, “In 1971, however, the South Bronx gangs came together to sign a truce. Afrika Bambaataa, a young warlord from the Black Spade gang, emerged as a peacemaker. In 1975, he created his organization, the Universal Zulu Nation, which brought together the four components of Hip Hop culture: DJing, MCing, B-boying, and Graffiti. Bambaataa organized the first block parties. These were informational gatherings where DJs illegally ran sound systems off the municipal power supply. The black parties catalyzed the South Bronk youth, for a time, contributing to a breakbeat record on both of his turntables and, with his mixer switch seamlessly from beat to beat, left to right, essentially looping the same beat segment indefinitely; this would allow more time for the break dancers to dance and for the emcees to rap over. His other great innovation was punch phrasing, in which a small beat segment was isolated, such as a horn stab, and punched in over the breakbeat as it played. This added a layer of complexity and dynamics to a DJ show and made the performances a lot more interactive than just playing a record from start to finish. Early Hip Hop was geared towards the party vibe; DJs were the main stars, and your popularity relied on how well you could rock the party. In this vein, early emcees would perform routines, and rap groups would rhyme in a chant style to pump up the party. These early exhibitions did not rely on super complex rhyme schemes and patterns but were more performative in their crowd participation aspect. Hip Hop is a revolutionary act of art and visibility, reclaiming the narrative by and for the community. The back-and-forth participation with the audience was and remains a crucial component of being an emcee, not the sole component, but an important one. The dress of early Hip Hop artists reflects the place that Hip Hop was in as far as still trying to determine and define its identity. Many artists would dress in eccentric attire, mimicking groups like Parliament Funkadelic and Earth Wind and Fire, with leather pants, feathers, and spikes. This is best reflected in acts such as early pioneer and super influential Hip Hop legend Afrika Bambaataa and the Zulu Nation. The influence of groups like Run DMC and Eric B and Rakim brought the cultural street style to the forefront. In essence, the identity of Hip Hop was beginning to materialize. Dapper Dan was a famous clothes designer and would take popular prints of the time, like Louis Vuitton and Gucci, and tailor custom clothes for artists and others in the hood. He was the main stylist for a new generation of Hip Hop and redefined the genre. He works in collaboration with Gucci at his atelier shop in Harlem. The conditions in the South Bronx were dismal, and many young men and women banded together in various street gangs, “In 1971, however, the South Bronx gangs came together to sign a truce. Afrika Bambaataa, a young warlord from the Black Spade gang, emerged as a peacemaker. In 1975, he created his organization, the Universal Zulu Nation, which brought together the four components of Hip Hop culture: DJing, MCing, B-boying, and Graffiti. Bambaataa organized the first block parties. These were informational gatherings where DJs illegally ran sound systems off the municipal power supply. The black parties catalyzed the South Bronk youth, for a time, contributing to a more peaceful gang culture.” (Lamotte). The Zulu Nation was crucial in providing a moral compass for Hip Hop conduct in those early days and was a formidable force in enforcing these codes. Hip Hop emerged out of an environment of the poor and forgotten. In his book Cant Stop Wont Stop, Jeff Chang poignantly states, "Hip Hop culture would arise from the conditions of no work” (Chang 13). During the 1960s and 1970s, invisible and marginalized communities, primarily black and Puerto Rican, were experiencing some of the worst conditions of economic poverty and complete and utter abandonment by the city along with the state of New York. Hip Hop scholar Bench Ansfield wrote in The Broken Windows of the Bronx: Putting the Theory in Its Place that: “Industrial relocation, white and black middle-class flight, in-migration of black and Puerto Rican residents, redlining, blockbusting, destructive urban renewal projects, and the withdrawal of social services took a heavy toll on the borough. By the mid-1970s, as New York City teetered on the edge of bankruptcy and the stream of federal dollars into welfare and antipoverty programs began to dry up, the Bronx absorbed the austerity shocks. The myriad effects are repeated at the risk of rendering banal the violence of racial capitalism during this period. Health care, education, and employment, already in dire straits, approached crisis levels. And housing abandonment and landlord arson obliterated the built environment, leaving South Bronx neighborhoods in ruins.” (Bench 106) Many landlords would purposefully burn down their buildings to collect insurance money. The burning of the Bronx was horrific and led to the destruction of over 100,000 homes and residences. Out of this environment of marginalization, neoliberalism, racist policing, economic divestment, ashes, and broken windows arises Hip Hop like a phoenix. The date was December 1, 1981, a day in Hip Hop history that would change the course of rap music forever. On this day, a seismic shift occurred in Hip Hop culture that would shake up how music was created and consumed. This was the day that the famous emcee battle between Busy Bee Starski and Kool Moe Dee occurred at the famous Harlem World. Busy Bee Starski is a legend and was the main party-rocking emcee. His style was very performative and included tons of crowd participation. He represented the old guard from Hip Hop’s genesis in the 70s. His rhymes were simple and focused more on the “When I say Hip, you say Hop” approach to rapping and crowd engagement, which was very exciting for the audience, Kool Moe Dee, on the other hand, was part of the new wave of artists starting to make their mark in the game. He was a member of the famous Treacherous Three. Kool Moe Dee had a different approach to rap that included much more complexity in his delivery, using metaphors and similes, double entendres, multisyllabic rhymes, internal rhyme schemes, and much more varied rhyme patterns than the standard AABB. The AABB rhyme pattern is when the first and second stanzas rhyme with each other, and the third and fourth stanzas rhyme, the rhymes usually falling on the last word of the stanza. Kool Moe Dee was also deliberate with his content and tailored it towards the situation, while Busy Bee Starski was much more focused on the crowd and maintaining the party vibe. This was common in the 1970s during the birth of Hip Hop. This was shaping to battle the old-school party style versus this new, emerging lyrical Emcee style. Kool Moe Dee would end the night the victor, and the game would never be the same. You could no longer appease the audience with just gibberish and simple party rhymes; they demand substance. As the rap lyric goes, “Talking all day but ain't saying nothing” (unknown). This was no longer acceptable, as the people wanted more. Hip Hop's rhizomatic nature allowed it to expand into many areas and address many issues, feelings and vibes the community needed. It was created by the community for the community and catered to the needs of the people. James Spady speaks in his article on the spread of Hip Hop throughout the globe: "Nowadays, Hip Hop on a global level is not only an exclusive expression of the Afro-American and Latino identities, but it also represents an interconnected global movement (we could call it a movement of protest, but in a particular sense, more 'virtual'). A global and urban Hip Hop culture is propelled by transatlantic exchange and transfer. It's part of the Atlantic Negro, Black Atlantic, as part of a historical, cultural, and political interchange system, just as Paul Gilroy formulated. In the last two decades, Hip Hop has begun to be understood as an articulation of local conflicts that have the sole function of integration for the ethnic minorities in European cities. It emerges from the migration and encounter of different cultures that, when merged, allow the revelation of new codes. Because of its specific aesthetic of participation, Hip Hop culture has transformed into a form of 'protest against' the urban crisis, social fragmentation, and racial or ethnic segregation. We are not talking about the dominant Hip Hop culture shown on MTV; we are referring to a transnational underground culture network, which has its roots in the Afro-American experience but has transformed into a global urban language employed by the ethnic minorities in several cities of the world" (Spady). Spady contextualized the spread of Hip Hop as organic and used as a form of protest. It perfectly aligns with the Rhizomatous nature of Hip Hop culture and the overt political act of protest that Hip Hop’s mere existence created. Hip Hop cannot be contained in a single geographic location like a rhizome. The conditions that birthed it exist in many other parts of the planet. Hip Hop deterritorialized spaces and is a transborder and transnational form of cultural expression that morphs and changes as it traverses them. Black and brown folks were reeling from the effects of settler colonialist policies, racialized forms of policing, economic divestment, and the “thingification” of Black and brown folks that have simulated and recreated these exact conditions all over the colonized nations (Cesaire). From these conditions have arisen new forms and representations of Hip Hop. The unique cultures of each region have an amazing influence on how music is created and expressed. From Puerto Rico to Guatemala and El Salvador, each story is different and unique, and this culture allows for the expression of a truly decolonized narrative told from the perspective of the conquered, the oppressed, and the wretched of this earth (Fanon). This is a powerful form of art because of its deep connection to the African American experience in the USA and how that experience has been mirrored to some extent by black and indigenous communities in Puerto Rico and Central America. How did Hip Hop culture arrive in these countries, and once there, how did it morph into something truly different yet similar? Hip Hop arrives much sooner in Puerto Rico than in Central America. Each country has a distinct history that shapes people’s participation in Hip Hop. How have the scars of colonialism and war affected this transmission? How does Hip Hop allow Black and Indigenous people to exist before it becomes commodified? Borinken Puerto Ricans were given second-class US “citizenship” by President Woodrow Wilson on March 2, 1917, as part of legislation known as the Jones Act. This act officially wiped out the autonomy and individuality of Puerto Rico as a separate and sovereign nation with a distinct cultural history. As a result of this citizenship status that was thrust upon the island of Borinken, Puerto Ricans could travel to and from the island freely and the mainland US in a circular migration. In 1939, Operation Bootstrap would bring many Puerto Ricans to the United States to fill cheap jobs in the industrial sectors such as steel and automotive. Through this program, my family would make their way to a small town near Cleveland, Ohio, called Lorain. This is where many Puerto Ricans arrived and still live today in a Boricua community enclave. Neoliberalism and circular migration were powerful forces in the arrival and evolution of Hip Hop in Puerto Rico. Marisol Lebron states in her seminal work, Policing Life and Death: Race, Violence, and Resistance in Puerto Rico, “The forces that contributed to the development of underground rap illuminate a series of larger transformations affecting Puerto Rican society during the 1980s. As cultural theorist Mayra Santos Febres notes, Puerto Rican rap is a musical expression of the failures of US colonialism and development. Rap music and the culture that developed around it highlights the difficult realities of circular migration and the implementation of a neoliberal economic agenda. As fans and artists, young people from marginalized communities became key participants in Puerto Rico's bourgeoning rap scene over the 1980s and 1990s, as they were the population most likely to be exposed to neoliberal dislocations and circular migration survival strategies” (Lebron 85). With the free flow of travel between Puerto Rico, we see Hip Hop and other influences from the United States seep into Puerto Rican mainstream culture. Hip Hop's arrival in Puerto Rico quickly established a diverse underground movement. This began in the early 1980s, brought by the Nuyoricans (Puerto Ricans from New York) returning home to the island and bringing back the cultural influences they were exposed to in the boroughs. The underground Hip Hop scene would initially bubble in the town of Carolina, near the airport, and on the island's west side by the former Ramey military base near Aguadilla. The base has since been converted to the Aguadilla Airport. The movement would begin with the four elements of Hip Hop being thoroughly represented: graffiti artists, break-dancers, DJs, and emcees. The rapping style was a mix of Spanish and English known as Spanglish, and I attribute this to a lot of the early pioneers being Nuyoricans who were already being exposed to the English language in New York and mixing it with their native language to create this unique Spanglish hybrid. This took place roughly from 1987 to 1988 when in the United States, the Hip Hop scene was experiencing a drastic shift that many would laude as its “Golden Era.” At this exact time, this Spanglish hybridization of language and music was happening across Puerto Rico. Puerto Ricans were among the first to rap in Spanish and blend and mix their native language and sounds. Puerto Rican musical historian Yoel Gaetan tells us in his book, Al Destierro Los Farsantes Una Historia Oral del Hip Hop Boriqua about the first Spanish rappers, “Se conoce exactamente quién fue el primero que rapeo palabras en español en una canción y este fue Mr. Schick (Daniel Rivera) en la canción “Disco Dream” de su grupo, The Mean Machine en 1981, editado por Sugar Hill Records.” (Gaetan 5). Around this time on the island, the topics began to change to address more conscious themes, and underground artists were infusing these themes into their music. Early pioneers of this socially conscious movement were artists like D-Squad, Vico C, and MC Base. This early Hip Hop scene birthed and influenced much of what was to become reggaeton music on the island of Puerto Rico. This mashup begins in Panama with reggae music and “riddims” (reggae beats) with Spanish covers of popular reggae songs. This would eventually evolve into original songs in Spanish over reggae beats sung in a patois style. The Caribbean influence in Panama arrived due to workers brought over to work on the Panama Canal; the musical influences they brought quickly hybridized with local sounds and language. Eventually, it would go to New York and become popularized by artists like El General. It would then go to Puerto Rico, becoming the “underground” and eventually the reggaeton we know today. Both Hip Hop and reggaeton came out of the Black experience and, from the start, were criminalized by the authorities. They were not supported by the government or the Puerto Rican community at large; it was “underground” and had cult followings in primarily poor Black communities. This was evident with the creation of “Malianteo,” a street-based genre of reggaeton/Hip Hop that spoke about street life and police brutality. The targeting of the music had more to do with the attempt to exert force and power over populations that have been historically marginalized and silenced. This culture allows for a direct rejection of these policies and amplifies the voices of the people. As Raquel Rivera states in her seminal work reggaeton, “Hundreds of cassettes and compact discs of underground rap and reggae music- a genre known on the island as simply “underground” and which later developed into reggaeton- were confiscated…The high-profile raids brought underground music to the forefront of public discourse and triggered a fierce debate regarding morality, censorship, and artistic freedom” (Rivera 111). This is a common way that the Black community in Puerto Rico has been erased and marginalized. The myth of mestizaje has misconstrued the realities of the colorism and overt racism that many dark-skinned and Afro-Boriquas experience by the government, police, and society in general. Hip Hop crews would form in this period of the early and mid-1990s. They would represent the new wave of Puerto Rican artists, expressing themselves primarily in Spanish, mixing and blending various influences. The most popular crews at this time were groups such as No Mel Syndicate and Vanguardia Subterranea. Many see this as the “Golden Era” of Puerto Rican underground Hip Hop. A shift was also occurring in La Isla in the content of the music and its approach, shifting from a primarily party type of music and vibe to something infused with more socially and politically conscious topics. Tego Calderon is one of the strongest examples of this at the time, infusing Afro-Latin rhythms from Bomba y Plena and including instruments such as conga and bongo into his music. His lyrics painted a vivid picture of life growing up on Borinken when you are Black and shone a light on the myths of racial unity and harmony. By the 2000s, new musical influences had emerged and hybridized with the local underground Hip Hop scene. There was certainly a blending and somewhat of a divergence with those who wanted to keep it “pure.” The fight between underground and mainstream is a common and constant debate amongst fans and pundits alike. Influences that began to emerge and feature more prominently were Jamaican Dancehall and Spanish reggae spilling out of Panama. These movements would coalesce in Puerto Rico and create something unique. These mashups are best heard through mixtapes like The Noise, Playero, and Las Gargolas. A divergence occurred between those who gravitated towards reggaeton to express themselves through “rap” and others who stuck to the underground aesthetic. Some artists, such as Tego Calderon, were able to toe the line between underground rappers and a reggaetonero. reggaeton was considered a party type of music, so the infusion of social and political topics was less present early on. However, there were some exceptions, especially with the music of Tego Calderon. On his debut album, El Abayarde, Tego seamlessly infuses elements of Hip Hop, reggaeton, Bomba y Plena, and even Salsa into the album, showing the possibility of creativity and the limitlessness that this art form can provide. This split wasn’t definitive, and some artists could juggle both of these genres, the underground Hip Hop scene and the party-type atmosphere of the reggaeton scene. It took pioneering artist such as Tego, an Afro-Puerto Rican from Loiza, Puerto Rico, to begin to address the issues of race and inequality in Puerto Rican society and speak to the hypocrisy of the government, all to a catchy “Dembow Riddim”, which is the backbone of all reggaeton music. The “Dembow Riddim” is a beat from a song called “Dem Bow,” written and performed by Jamaican artist Shabba Ranks. It was released in 1990. It is common in reggae for beats or “Riddims” to be reused and sampled many times over from different artists. In this vein of fair usage and inspiration, the “Dembow Riddim” became the backbone beat for all reggaeton music and even influenced its genre of music by the same name. The power and influence of this early underground Hip Hop scene in Puerto Rico cannot be overstated. It set the foundation for what was to be one of our generation's most popular musical genres, with the adoption of reggaeton from Panama and the growing and evolving of that art form into a worldwide phenomenon. The global impact of reggaeton artists such as Bad Bunny has shown us the far reach that this musical genre has and the ability for Hip Hop to adapt and morph into new and unique expressions of art and resistance, a true rhizome. It does not stand alone either, with Hip Hop just as strong of a worldwide influence, if not arguably stronger, and the two genres are uniquely intertwined on the island. The early underground Hip Hop and reggaeton scenes in Puerto Rico were a subculture, like those of the early Punk Rock movement. The early Puerto Rican rap groups did touch on some of the social issues present at the time in Puerto Rican society, but there was also this deep longing to be on the radio and to “make it” in the mainstream. Their mere existence was a political act as they were marginalized Afro-Latino communities rebelling and making a stand. This is why it was easy for many early underground Hip Hop artists to pivot to reggaeton as their primary expression. This would allow them the possibility of greater exposure to the mainstream due to the relative palatability of reggaeton to a mainstream audience, as opposed to the hard-hitting beats, flows, and lyrics represented in the underground Hip Hop movement at that time (Gaetan). Puerto Rican music historian Yoel Gaetan unlocked the history of Hip Hop in Puerto Rico. These stories intersect with my time on the island from 1997-1998, where I was exposed to underground Hip Hop mixtapes. To be able to speak with Yoel allowed me to see the transnational reach of Hip Hop and how it is uniquely intertwined with the Puerto Rican experience and how it has birthed countless genres and subcultures, all splinters from the same tree, fed from the same roots of creativity, marginalization, and cultural expressions. His encyclopedic knowledge of groups and artists put into perspective the depth to which this art form penetrated Puerto Ricans on the island and how it was used to speak about the present issues of colonialism, poverty, racism, and discrimination. “Hip Hop provides both a politics of recognition and rage and an aspirational focus (Pieterse, 2010) for urban youth against marginalization, isolation, and exclusion. As Pieterse (ibid.: 432) argues, Hip Hop music challenges urban exclusion, violence, and exploitation by ‘offering an alternative sense of place, a means of interpreting the world’ and, I would add, also a different way of being” (Lamotte). Central America Hip Hop arrived in Central America and, more specifically, El Salvador in a drastically different way than it did in Puerto Rico. The conditions in El Salvador because of the United States-funded Civil War that ravaged the nation created a mass exodus of refugees fleeing the war-torn country. Many would go up North, hoping to apply for asylum and be granted entry. However, that is not how things played out. They were criminalized and not allowed into the country. As the United States was in direct financial support of this conflict, they refused to accept anyone as it would indict them of supporting a murderous regime. Many would arrive clandestinely in Los Angeles and settle in the MacArthur Park area and eventually into parts of South Los Angeles and East Los Angeles. In Los Angeles, some Central Americans would often band together to survive Los Angeles street life conditions during the 1980s and 1990s and even into the present. It would become the genesis of the MS-13 and 18th Street gangs. With the incarceration and eventual deportation of these men back to El Salvador and Guatemala, they would take more than just the gang culture with them. They would also take back some of the influences they had come to love and associate with while living in the new home they had made, or for some, the only home they had ever known in Los Angeles. One of these influences was the culture, specifically in the way of dress, talk, graffiti art, and musical expressions they had adopted. Guatemalan Hip Hop legend Dj Flako states, “Cuando entro aquí la influencia así fuerte de las pandillas tenía un poco también de la mano con Hip Hop verdad porque había muchos deportados que traían nuevamente pues ya la música, la cultura, entonces eso en alguno u otra manera hizo lo que más gente tuvieran nos contactó”; [When the influence entered here from the street gangs, there was also a bit of Hip Hop’s hand involved because there were so many deported that newly brought the music, the culture. So, one way or another, that made more people contact us” [English translation]. (DJ Flako interview). Some have described gangster rap music in Los Angeles as a form of “Street Reporting”, telling news reports from the streets as told by people who live and work on those blocks. It provides an alternate perspective that is rarely seen or heard. This rap style and “Street reporting” were also deported back to El Salvador. Upon their deportation and arrival in El Salvador, many were instantly targeted for their gang affiliations from all sides. You have rival gang factions, extrajudicial “death squads” made up of ex-police and military, and the actual state, which exercises the power to kill with impunity. This leads many to use this music to tell their stories and provide an alternative perspective to what is portrayed in the media, where the story is always one-sided. Robin Kelley speaks of the importance of not dismissing gangster rap, “But it would be a mistake to dismiss gangster rap and other genres of Hip Hop as useless creations of the marketplace. If we want to know the political climate among urban youth, we should still listen to the music and, most importantly, to the young people who fill the deadened, congested spaces of the city with these sonic forces” (Kelley 225). This has an especially personal connection for me as my father was involved in gang culture for most of his life and was incarcerated for over 80% of his adult life in the United States. He was deported back to El Salvador in the mid-1990s after his release from prison. This is during a time of extreme oppression and targeting of gang members who have been deported back to El Salvador. He would lose his life in a confrontation with a police officer. My father’s story; the norm for many young men returning to El Salvador. For some, it is a familiar place, but for many, it is their first time setting foot on their native soil. To instantly feel the pressure of being targeted is an intense prospect that many must contend with immediately, leading some to seek the safety of familiarity and numbers. One of the ways to deal with angst is the creation of Mara Salvatrucha rap. “Mara Salvatrucha Hip Hop reflects violence, yes, but it also articulates the poverty and hardship that this marginalized community experiences while also asserting the notion that banding together as a group provides the only real protection from these many societal ills that threaten to wipe them out” (Jacky 4). By no means are these musical expressions polished and advanced in their production or recording efforts. Still, they are in the vein of many early pioneers who used what equipment they had at their disposal in a very organic and grassroots way. Many influences are gleaned from West Coast gangster rap culture, such as music production, style of dress, music video representation, and to a small degree, similar themes are addressed in the lyrics. One of the main themes of Mara Rap, especially in the representations present in their music videos, is that they are completely in charge of controlling the narrative around how they are perceived. They provide unmistakable positionality and show the public, “This is us, and this is what we are about!” This decolonized narrative is powerful in its authenticity and frame of reference. In their music, the Maras frequently tout their transborder and transnational reach, shouting out different towns and countries where they have strongholds. They also “bang their sets” (represent their gang’s name and territory) on their songs to proudly proclaim their affiliations. “Rap allows these urban youths to tell their stories, narrate their lives and ‘their community's history, and persevere despite the violence and misery. Rap becomes their means towards durability and permanence in a fleeting and often truncated life” (Jacky 12). This connection to gang culture has been a stigma that has been hard to shake for the Hip Hop community in El Salvador and Guatemala. The fear and violence the state and the gangs perpetuated have created an image inextricably linked to Hip Hop culture. From the style of dress, way of talking, and artistic expression, all aspects of Hip Hop have been tied to gangs, and many artists have had close run-ins with police and gangs alike, some ending very violently. Practicing Hip Hop in Central America can be a dangerous act and a direct political action fighting for visibility in a place and space attempting to silence and erase their very existence. Neoliberal policies in El Salvador began to intensify the most during 1989-2009 when the elites shifted to a transnational economic model of accumulation. Steven Osuna states in his article “Transnational Moral Panic Neoliberalism and the Specter of MS-13,” “The peace accords and the postwar policies replaced a revolutionary war with an economic one. Reforms, especially privatization, allowed elites to regroup under the postwar conditions and to colonize new spaces of power, thereby reproducing the inequities at the base of Salvadoran social conflict’, Haglund argues. 48 The privatization of state industries, the banking system, tax reforms, defunding of public institutions, the growth of the maquiladora industry, free trade policies with Mexico and Chile, the dollarization of the Salvadoran economy, and the signing of the Dominican Republic-Central American Free Trade Agreement in 2004 produced economic inequality far worse than before the revolutionary war. To respond to crime emerging from this immiseration, the Salvadoran government under ARENA passed the Private Security Services Law in 2014 that proliferated an industry of private security whose profits in 2003 reached an estimated $82.9 million and soared to $319 million in 2005.49 The emergence of a transnational capitalist class did not mean the end of the Salvadoran oligarchy; instead, this led to the reorganization of the ruling class into business groups such as Grupo Cuscatlan, Grupo Banagricola, Grupo Banco Salvadoreño and Grupo Banco de Comercio” (Osuna 11). I argue that these Neoliberal policies mirrored many of the same conditions that birthed Hip Hop culture in the South Bronx during the late 1970s. Black, brown, and indigenous folks are marginalized, and their voices are silenced; this culture allows them to express themselves and protest these attempts at erasure. In Guatemala, we see the emergence of a blending of Hip Hop with the indigenous Mayan language, and it sounds like a true hybridization. One of the pioneering groups in Guatemala has been Balam Ajpu, who dropped their first official project in 2012 titled Jun Winaq Rajawal Qij (Tributo a los 20 Nawales). They incorporate different Mayan languages, such as Tz’utujil, K’iche, Kaqchikel, and Spanish. The group comes out of Lake Atitlan, specifically San Pedro La Laguna, where the members also run a school named Casa Ahua Escuela de Hip Hop, where lessons in Hip Hop and Mayan culture are taught. This blending of local culture and activism is truly fascinating. One of the artists who worked on this project is Doctor Nativo, one of the founding members of the Bacteria Soundsystem crew and cousin to Dj Flako. He is the founding member of Barrio Candela and is (a prolific artist) currently residing in Florida. DJ Flako While speaking with pioneering Guatemalan artist Dj Flako, founder of Bacteria Soundsystem Crew, Hip Hop entered the scene from the influx of Hip Hop movies in the 80s, such as “Breaking,” "Style Wars,” “Beat Street” and later “WildStyle.” These films would introduce the youth in Guatemala to a new culture, aesthetic, and avenue to express themselves creatively. It wouldn’t be until the arrival of the deportees from Los Angeles that the Hip Hop culture would begin to take off. There was and remains a stigma in the region connecting Hip Hop culture to the gang culture that initially brought it down to Central America. This stigma has cost many people their lives and livelihoods. It has been one of the most significant obstacles to the majority of the population, media, and government accepting Hip Hop music. Practically, no local Hip Hop artist gets any radio play on their local stations. The stigma is starting to dissipate, but there is still quite a way to go toward national acceptance and support of this cultural art form expressed through the four elements of breakdancing, graffiti, emceeing, and DJing. According to DJ Flako, the first elements to make an impact were Breakdancing and Graffiti. Graffiti has always been prevalent in Guatemala and El Salvador in the form of gang tags that would denote a gang’s turf that they controlled, especially in the 70s and 80s. Hip Hop changed the style of these “tags" and added a more artistic approach to putting your name up and began creating “pieces,” short for masterpieces, elaborate works of art that required lots of skill, control, and painting. This is a far cry from the random “throw-ups'' and quick gang tags that adorned the city walls. Regardless of the apparent distinction between these two styles of artistic expression, Hip Hop graffiti artists were targeted by the state, labeled as vandals and gang members, and are targeted by gang members. Many Hip Hop artists lost their lives or retired outright to avoid the drama caused by their artistic expression. This inclusion of Hip Hop into the gang conversation has prevented Hip Hop from expanding as it has in the United States, Europe, Mexico, and other countries in the West. Local Hip Hop is rarely, if ever, played on the local radio stations, and shows are few and far between. Finding locations and promoters is also rare, and only a select few even venture to put on consistent Hip Hop shows, and it is always a challenge. It appears to me in my preliminary research that Hip Hop in Guatemala and El Salvador had influences early on in its genesis that were more focused on the social and political expression and the reach that Hip Hop provided, more so than the “party” atmosphere or mainstream commercial appeal that was evident in the early stages of Hip Hop in New York and Puerto Rico. This is perhaps directly correlated to the harsh conditions in Central America, exacerbated by the war and social repression that may not have existed to that extreme degree on la Isla. Abandonment and neglect are common themes that arise when discussing these communities. Hip Hop has been a powerful amplifier of the voices in these communities to share their stories and air their grievances while expressing themselves creatively. This isn’t to say that there wasn’t any party type of record; Hip Hop being inherently rhizomatic, it is uncontrollable in its spread and where it draws its inspiration. Hip Hop music has always allowed the creator to express many feelings and emotions, from fun, carefree, and party lifestyle to politics, protest, and critique. That is the beauty of the rhizome: spontaneous and uncontrollable. Blossoming Hip Hop is a culture that is very special to me. It is something that I discovered as a young child and jumped into wholeheartedly, and I have been actively living it ever since. It has shaped me and guided me along my path through life and allowed me to be different, to be myself, and to have an outlet for creative expression. The opportunity to weave my academic journey with my love of Hip Hop has set me on a special trajectory of discovering my identity and who I am. Being Salvadoran and Puerto Rican, I knew that I wanted to dive, even if only merely dipping a toe into the water of these amazing cultures and discovering how they have intertwined themselves with Hip Hop culture. Having the opportunity to create an album that allowed me to explore these deeply personal themes was very special to me. Combining my love of research was was very special to me. Combining my love of research and my love of artistic creation was something that I never imagined would be possible. This album I created, “Raizes,” is a testament to my roots and ancestry, an ode to Hip Hop, a dive into identity, a rhizomatic harvest of sorts, and a true expression of myself. While making it, I could uncover themes that arose throughout the readings and lectures in the Dept. of Central American and Transborder Studies at CSU Northridge and connect them directly to my experience in school and life in general. Addressing themes like identity, loss, love, family, capitalism, indigeneity, contradictions, artistic expression, goals and growth, friendship, and roots allowed me to simulate the themes from my academic journey into something personal and an authentic expression of myself and my trajectory. One of the common themes that I noticed arose many times in my work was the absence of my father in my life. It was not an intentional addition but a subconscious one that has shown me the power of absence and the trauma of not knowing. Through my research in Latin America, I discovered some of the conditions my father came out of and how those experiences may have shaped his life choices. His long and perilous journey to the United States, his initiation into the 18th street gang, his drug and alcohol problems, domestic violence at home, his countless incarcerations, and his eventual deportation, up until the fight in San Miguel, El Salvador resulted in a head injury that would cause his death. All this resonates and influences my decisions in my life. My mother, a rock and the foundation that kept us from being swept away does not get enough credit from me in my memory bank. This has much to do with the trauma caused by remarriage and being fatherless, attempting to find my place in this new family dynamic. In my adulthood, we have forged a strong bond that defies the usual mother/son dynamic. Being a part of LAS at CSU Northridge and getting the opportunity to dive into the history of Puerto Rico gave me a deeper understanding of my family, specifically my great-grandmother and great-grandfather and the journey they undertook trying to raise such a large family on the farm in Lares, Puerto Rico being so poor. My great uncle's journey to Lorain, Ohio, as a part of Operation Bootstrap, opened the door for my family, like many other Puerto Ricans, to make their way to the US and begin to put down deep roots in the Earth. Through these roots, I could be myself, discover Hip Hop at a young age, and use it as a form of expression. Like all of those before me, Hip Hop has allowed me to be myself and express any emotion I may be feeling. This album, Raizes, represents the multifaceted nature of the human being and the ways that music can help us share these stories with the world. Harvest Hip Hop has spread globally and become a part of mainstream culture through capitalism and its ever-present grip and influence on the world. When Hip Hop reached parts of Latin America there was a hybridization of Hip Hop with local music and culture creating something special and unique; it was magic. New sounds emerged from the mash, and a new way to express oneself was born. In Guatemala, it is best seen in groups like Balam Ajpu and Rebeca Lane mixing Mayan languages and indigenous instrumentation into their orchestrations, discussing themes relative to the struggles of indigenous Mayan communities. In El Salvador, the Mara rap has strong ties to the gangster rap of Los Angeles and has morphed into something uniquely guanaco, puro El Salvador. Trinity College Professor of Research, Jacky Alejandro concluded after listening to” La mara anda suelta,” that “Rap allows these urban youths to tell their stories, narrate their lives and ‘their community's history, and persevere despite the violence and misery. Rap becomes their means towards durability and permanence in a fleeting and often truncated life” (Jacky 12). In Puerto Rico, the complicated legacy of colonialism is still alive, as Puerto Rico has never ceased to be colonized and controlled by the U.S., which has made Puerto Ricans uniquely tied to the mainland. Their forced US citizenship has allowed them free travel back and forth between the island and the U.S. mainland and has resulted in large communities of Puerto Ricans emigrating to New York City and Florida. This free flow of travel resulted in the mixing and blending cultures and a unique transborder experience in which Hip Hop existed and developed simultaneously across the island and in the boroughs of New York. On the island, rappers began to create music, incorporating influences from reggae music, including the accents and patois of Jamaica and the West Indies. Artists like Tego Calderon would begin to blur the boundaries between rap and reggaeton and incorporate sounds of traditional Afro-Puerto Rican music like bomba y plena and salsa into his music. These hybrid sounds would become the bedrock of Puerto Rican urban music. Through Hip Hop culture, many artists could take control and truly decolonize the narrative around their identity and their fight against the system and own it, showing a positionality that is the foundation of cultural expression. These neglected and marginalized Black and Indigenous communities have much in common. They are all victims of the echoes of colonialism and use this Black form of cultural expression to tell their story. It is a uniquely African-American art form that directly connects to the Black communities throughout Puerto Rico and Central America. There are remnants of colonies past and present. Like a rhizome, Hip Hop could not be contained in a single area, controlled, manipulated, or coerced. It spread as organically and spontaneously as a rhizome underground. Perhaps it is fitting that the early movements in Hip Hop were looked at and spoken of as an “underground” movement because it is there in the dark and crowded underground where the rhizome was biding its time and slowly propagating clones of itself that would morph into something extraordinary and unique depending on where they burst out of the soil, whether on the island of Puerto Rico or the war-torn and blood-soaked grounds of El Salvador and Guatemala. I want to add a small caveat about Hip Hop in El Salvador. There are currently many changes happening on the ground at a rapid pace. The government has been working hard to co-opt the Hip Hop movement and mobilize the youth around President Bukele and the government of Nuevas Ideas. They have created CUBOS (Centros Urbanos de Bienestar y Oportunidades) in low-income communities of violence. Still, since the state of exemption and brutal crackdown on all dissidents, they have become “safer,” according to the government. These CUBOS are safe places for the youth. There is free Wi-Fi, recording equipment, and other activities and services. On April 29, 2023, the government-sponsored urban music event was held in the capital where thousands of people attended. It was a free show sponsored by FMS Caribe (Freestyle Master Series), connected to the label Urban Roosters, where elite battle rappers from Latin America competed for the crown. The government's media arm ran a robust campaign promoting the event and their involvement. There are eight more stops in other countries throughout Latin America, and it is yet to be seen how those other shows will stack up to the one held in San Salvador. All the money to organize the shows was provided by the government of Bukele, which means the taxes collected from the people of El Salvador financed the Hip Hop-inspired event. Hip Hop has always been the music of the people, by the people, and for the people, with an anti-systemic tone that has critiqued the government and the conditions under which they forced the people to survive. This co-opting of the Hip Hop movement is a singular event that is only occurring in El Salvador now but can potentially set a precedent for other regional dictators to further buy the popular vote. WORK CITEDAnsfield, Bench. “The Broken Windows of the Bronx: Putting the Theory in Its Place.” American quarterly 72.1 (2020): 103–127. Web. Baker, Geoffrey. “¡Hip Hop, Revolución! Nationalizing Rap in Cuba.” Ethnomusicology, vol. 49, no. 3, University of Illinois Press, 2005, pp. 368–402, http://www.jstor.org/stable/20174403. Balam Ajpu. Jun Winaq Rajawal Qij (Tributo a los 20 Nawales). Performance by Tzutu Baktun Kan, M.C.H.E. and Dr. Nativo. 2020. Bell, Elizabeth R. "“This Isn't Underground; This Is Highlands”: Mayan-Language Hip Hop, Cultural Resilience, and Youth Education in Guatemala." Journal of Folklore Research 54.3 (2017): 167-197. Cesaire, Aime. Discourse on Colonialism. AAKAR Books, 2018. Chang, Jeff, et al. Can't Stop Won't Stop: A Hip-Hop History. Wednesday Books, 2021. Fanon, Frantz, et al. The Wretched of the Earth. Grove Press, 2021. Flores, Juan. From bomba to hip-hop: Puerto Rican culture and Latino identity. Columbia University Press, 2000. Gaetán, Yoel. Al Destierro Los Farsantes: 30 Años De Hip Hop En Puerto Rico, 1985-2015. Forgotten Youth Records, 2022. Gaetan, Yoel. “Contra Viento y Marea: The Best Underground Hip Hop in Puerto Rico” RelojBomba.org, 2015 https://relojbomba.org/2016/01/01/reloj-bomba-contra-viento-y-marea-the-best-underground-hip-hop-in-puerto-rico-2015/ Jacky, Alejandro. "Hip Hop is not Dead: The Emergence of Mara Salvatrucha Rap as a form of MS-13 Expressive Culture." (2014). Kelley Robin D. G. Race Rebels: Culture, Politics, and the Black Working Class. Free Press, 1996. Lamotte, Martin. “Rebels Without a Pause: Hip-Hop and Resistance in the City.” International journal of urban and regional research 38.2 (2014): 686–694. Web. LeBrón Marisol. Policing Life and Death: Race, Violence, and Resistance in Puerto Rico. University of California Press, 2019. Nava, Alejandro. “Afro-Latin Soul and Hip-Hop.” In Search of Soul: Hip-Hop, Literature, and Religion, 1st ed., University of California Press, 2017, pp. 204–34, http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1525/j.ctt1rrdb1f.12. Osuna, Steven. “Transnational Moral Panic: Neoliberalism and the Spectre of MS-13.” Race & Class, vol. 61, no. 4, 2020, pp. 3–28., https://doi.org/10.1177/0306396820904304. Rivera, Raquel Z., et al. Reggaeton. Duke University Press, 2009. Rivera-Rideau, Petra R. Remixing reggaetón: The Cultural Politics of Race in Puerto Rico. Duke University Press, 2015. Riviere, Melisa. Son dos alas: A multimedia ethnography of hip-hop between Cuba and Puerto Rico. University of Minnesota, 2010. Spady, James G. “Mapping and Re-Membering Hip Hop History, Hiphopography and African Diasporic History.” The Western journal of black studies 37.2 (2013): 126–157. Print. MoreListen to Carlos' new and original song "Nuevas Raizes" below! Give a Listen to Carlos' Podcast: Loud - The History of Reggaeton
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