Over Christmas break I was up late one night on the phone. As I passed the den I glanced at the TV and what I saw made me stop. Nelly and the St. Lunatics were throwing money at nearly naked women. Women were simulating sex with other women as Nelly and company looked on. Then I saw Murphy Lee sliding a credit card between a woman's butt cheeks. I was too disgusted to even speak and got off the phone quickly.

When I came back to school, along with the usual "How was break?" and "What'd you do?" came the soon equally familiar, "Have you seen 'Tip Drill?'" My Spelman sisters and Morehouse brothers alike were shocked by this recent low in depictions of African-American women on the small screen. Our critique of the video was not isolated. Fellow Historically Black College/University (HBCU) students at Howard had protested in front of Viacom to show their outrage towards the video in mid-December. It became apparent to me, as Spelman's Feminist Majority Leadership Alliance (FMLA) President that this was something that we, too, needed to address.

The FMLA had its first showing and discussion of the "Tip Drill" video at the beginning of February. A significant number of students came, including men from Morehouse. Many differing viewpoints were brought up. One student asked if women could ever be in these videos and be sexual without being viewed in a negative manner. The comment was eloquently addressed by FMLA member Bettina Judd, who replied that the kind of sexuality they were displaying was not about pleasure; it was about women performing for a male audience. I mean what kind of pleasure is received when a credit card is swiped through your backside? It is impossible to display healthy sexuality when you are being degraded. The men in the audience noticed that watching the video in a room full of women made them feel differently about the video. It helped them see the misogyny they had overlooked before.

A week later I saw Asha Jennings, The Spelman Student Government Association (SGA) President carrying a big box. She called me over for what I assumed would be help carrying the load, but ended up being help in what has been titled, "The Nelly Controversy." Asha explained that in the box were flyers for the Jes Us 4 Jackie bone marrow drive that was set to take place on April 2. Spelman SGA had been working with Nelly's foundation to bring a bone marrow registration drive to campus. The problem was readily apparent.

Spelman College

How could Spelman, a historically black women's institution, have Nelly on campus after his heinous depiction of black women in his lyrics and videos? Asha had been previously unaware of the video and had just seen it. She now stood at the crossroads of what to do. Should she cancel the drive, knowing that the issue of minority bone marrow registration would go unaddressed? Should she uninvite Nelly from campus and allow the foundation to come? Should students remain silent altogether and not bring up the issue of "Tip Drill?"

Asha presented her dilemma to our Feminist Theory class, citing that her other classes were in favor of participating in the drive, and then writing Nelly a letter which would uninvite him from the campus. Our professor, Dr. Guy-Sheftall, was the voice of reason and pointed out that writing a letter does not carry the same weight that protesting or canceling a drive have. If we were upset about his portrayal of African-American women in the video, our actions had to be equally powerful. Additionally, sending a letter does not ensure that Nelly will read it. He has people who read his mail for him and he might never know our concern. Finally, you cannot separate the man from his foundation. It belongs to him and should he decide to come on campus, he could do so with his foundation.

It was then that debate broke down into the point-counterpoint formula that is all too familiar in heated discussion. We discussed and discussed until Asha broke down in tears. Dr. Guy-Sheftall told her she needed to stop beating herself up over this and make a decision to cancel the drive or to allow students to protest it. The class voted and the protest won out.

The FMLA took on the task of organizing and planning the action. We decided that the next week's FMLA meeting would be the strategizing session for the protest. We were excited and eager to begin our work.

The "Tip Drill" video

In the days that followed, we did research. We made signs with Nelly's lyrics on them and invited people to the meeting on Tuesday. We also found the definitions of a tip drill (which included a woman who has a nice figure but an ugly face, a woman who may have an STD and therefore only the tip of the penis can be used to have sex with her, or a stripper who prompts men to keep throwing money at her). These were added to the flyer inviting people to come to the FMLA meeting. Those planning to protest also planned to join the bone marrow registry, ensuring that the goal of the drive was accomplished and that bone marrow recipients did not suffer.

Fliers were up all over campus and the Nelly "Tip Drill" controversy was heating up. However, it was not until the Tuesday night FMLA meeting that everything came to a head.

Asha informed the group that the foundation had pulled out of the drive. Apparently, the foundation had been to campus earlier that week and seen the signs that the FMLA put up all over campus. They scheduled an emergency meeting with SGA and requested that no protestors be at the drive. SGA could not meet the ridiculous demand of assuring their request. The foundation then left the room so that SGA could vote on whether or not the drive could continue if, at the foundation's request, Nelly agreed to participate in a forum to address student concerns. Despite a unanimous vote to continue with the drive under the new stipulations, when the foundation came back they had already decided to cancel the drive.

The foundation was apparently so upset about this issue that they went to the press, saying that Spelman canceled the drive because of the video "Tip Drill." Unfortunately for them, their plan backfired and the media coverage blew up and ended up depicting them negatively.

MTV broke the story, erroneously reporting that Spelman was responsible for the drive not happening because we had planned a huge protest against one video. The Atlanta Journal Constitution's piece, however, included interviews with Asha and myself and set the record straight, explaining that the foundation had canceled the drive and that our issues were much bigger than Nelly and "Tip Drill." Fortunately, it was sent out on the AP wire.

We cropped up in the Dayton Daily News, an editorial in USA Today, a segment of Essence Magazine, and various websites, blogs and discussion boards. We appeared on five local Atlanta radio stations and I did an interview with the new liberal radio station Air America. All of this press was largely affirming, letting us state our case and explain once again that we were in support of the drive the whole time -- we just didn't want to support sexist images in the media. The foundation attempted to save face by trying to reschedule the drive, but was once again unwilling to have Nelly address student concerns.

As the media ran with the story, so many things surprised me. First of all, with all the activism that goes on at Spelman's campus, of all the problems we see in the Bush administration and in the world, a handful of students willing to stand up against problematic depictions of black women in the media got national attention.

Jill Nelson

The public outpouring of both support and opposition has also been surprising. The old guard of the black feminist movement has said they are re-energized by our efforts. Spelman alumna Pearl Cleage said that it was a welcome sight to see young black women giving voice to the issue of misogyny in the media. Jill Nelson, author of "Straight No Chaser" was equally impressed with what we have done, saying that our action gave her hope for the future.

But not all people have seen the situation in a positive light. Some thought we were angry emasculators who were too concerned with images and not at all concerned with bone marrow. It is so easy to portray us as angry black women unwilling to stand behind a black man, even though he is doing something good. Our questions for Nelly were recast as vociferous attacks and have allowed people to feel sorry for Nelly, a supposedly helpless bystander caught in the misdirected rage of young black women.

One of our most valid criticisms came from a former civil rights leader who spoke to the classism that seems to be lurking in this issue. As middle class, college educated black women, we can very easily speak to the issue of video images, but the issue of the financial barriers that lock women into being in these videos is not something that we seemed to address.

I understand how it looks that way; that those of us with privilege are judging those less fortunate than us for the economically driven decisions they make to participate in this medium. But in every interview we've had we stated that this is systemic, a part of the larger racist, capitalist, patriarchal society we call America. But once you start talking about interlocking systems of oppression, the press stops recording.

I also do not wish to demonize the women who participate in the videos and who feel the tug of the capitalist puppet strings and see this as an easy way to make money. Our criticism was directed toward Nelly, not the women in his videos, but I do hope to help them see that while they may feel autonomous in the choices they make, the implication of their decisions are global, impacting how African-American women are viewed world wide.

This whole Nelly controversy sapped a significant amount of energy from me and other obligations I had to school, to other organizations, and projects. Sometimes the situation seemed to have a life of its own, especially when the media picked up the story and ran with it. At times I felt like I was along for the ride.

Although the Nelly controversy was completely unexpected and caught me off guard, I will not shrink from the challenge of sustaining a movement around images of black women in the media. I want to make it clear that this is so much bigger than Nelly, that he is not the scapegoat but the spark that ignited the need for a public critique of how we as women are being portrayed. I see "Tip Drill" in the broader context of a racist, capitalist, patriarchal system that has a vested interest in feeding stereotypes of both black men and women as hypersexual in the quest for the almighty dollar.

It is because I love hip hop that I critique it and as part of the hip hop generation, who better than I to bring the music back to what I loved about it in the first place? For me, that sentiment can be summed up by one of the signs we had at the demonstration. "We love hip hop, but does hip hop love us?"

Moya Bailey is a Comparative Women's Studies/Pre-Med major at Spelman College in Atlanta, Georgia.

Ella Baker

In my intro to women's studies course at Spelman College, our class watched a video detailing the work of Ella Baker in the civil rights movement. It captured the tenacity and clout she had when working with many groups and leaders including SNCC and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The film was so powerful it provoked an outburst from a student wondering if the situation surrounding minorities is hopeless. She said that Ella had done so much, and yet black people are still discriminated against in this country. She seemed resigned to the status of black people as second class citizens. Another student joined her and expressed she didn't even see the point in voting because the candidates said little to address the issues faced in her community. It was disheartening to hear the concession of defeat in their voices for a battle they had not even fought.

Apathy among black youth is widespread. Negative images dominate the media and airwaves with portrayals of blacks as drug addicts, dealers, hyper-sexual beings at worst and achievers of a sliver of the American dream that hangs in the balance from paycheck to paycheck, game to game, or album to album, at best. In a society that is both racist and patriarchal, feeling a sense of agency is almost impossible if you aren't in the dominant groups in society. We are buying into negative images of ourselves and with drugs in our communities, hoop dreams, and other diversions keeping us from focusing on the way our rights are being chipped away.

The reality is the circumstances are not as bleak as they appear. There are significant numbers of black youth working to better their communities across the country, but these are not the images we see on TV. The solutions and those working on them do not seem to be as interesting as the problems.

The black community is faced with serious issues. 10.4 percent of the country's entire black male population between the ages of 25 and 29 are in prison (1), and discriminatory judicial practices stemming from the government's war on drugs are to blame (2). In addition, racial profiling and other tactics scrutinize black people more than other groups. The disenfranchisement of felons has a very real effect on the strength of the black vote. 1.4 million, or 13% of all black men are unable to vote despite having completed sentences, but their right to vote is not restored because they have been convicted of a felony (3).

AIDS is affecting the black community at a rate unparalleled by any other group. Black women ages 18-24 are leading the pack in new cases of HIV (4). And while more black students are going to college (5), education has not been the cure-all our parents hoped it would be. Educated black people have less access to adequate medical care and have higher mortality rates than their white counterparts (6).

Registering voters back in the day.

Voting is not a cure-all, but it's a step in the right direction for alleviating these conditions. Politicians work for active responsive constituencies to create policies to serve these groups. More cynically put, when you vote for people they do stuff for you so you'll vote for them again. Constituents influence the actions a politician takes when in office, and a strong black voting base translates into actions that can improve health care, imprisonment, and education in our communities.

Like the black youth of the 1960s who fueled the Civil Rights Movement that led to the enfranchisement of black people at the polls, we are in a position to be a catalyst for change. In 2000, 51 percent of the black population came out to vote in the presidential election (7). What happened to the other 49 percent? We should be working to get 100 percent of our communities to vote. We have the capacity to set a new precedent where our voices are heard.

But how are we to know about this? Our parents are just trying to get by and black leadership is pandering for the attention of both parties in the election. What about the issues of our generation? Who will address our concerns about the communities we will one day inherit? These aren't the issues of our parent's generation and the fact that we are young seems to be an excuse to dismiss them as valid.

For example, in a recent visit to Spelman College, a historically black college, Reverend Al Sharpton tried to comment on hip-hop music. He only commented on the negativity in the music and used NWA as an outdated and not applicable reference of the problematic nature of the music.

However, as much as the generations above us don't understand our music or concerns, we can never forget the sacrifices they made. Voting should not even be a question for our generation. Aunts, uncles, grandparents, and parents were strung up from trees, burned alive, sprayed with high pressured hoses, attacked by dogs, spit on, shot, assaulted, and raped all in the name of our rights. It is inconceivable to dishonor their memories by not being active participants in the political process in this country. If we owe them nothing else we owe them the votes that they were unable to cast.

We are in a unique position. As a supposedly disenfranchised group we can slip into the polls undetected and really change the political system! How hot would it be if we descended silently but in mass to the polls? We could really elect someone who could be a voice for our generation, someone willing to ensure the rights and change the discriminatory practices already in existence.

Being young and black in a racist and patriarchal country can be depressing. It is so easy to believe what you're told, that your voice doesn't count and that you'll be lucky to get into college and later pay a mortgage for the rest of your life. It often feels like a dire and utterly hopeless situation, but trying to do something about it is how change will come.

In New York City there is a group called the United Homeless Organization. They stand on the sidewalks of the city all day asking for pennies from passersby. It doesn't seem like much, but a penny from everyone in New York would add up to over 150,000 dollars! That's the reality of voting. If everyone voted change could come. The kind of change we want to see in this country could be realized -- we just have to make it real.

The black youth vote is not something that the candidates are seeking. We can slip under their noses and really change the course of history with our vote! Black youth of the world unite! This is a call to arms that needs to be answered!

Moya Bailey is a Comparative Women's Studies/Pre-Med major at Spelman College in Atlanta, Georgia.

Sources:

1. http://usgovinfo.about.com/cs/publicsafety/a/aajailsgrow.htm

2. http://www.famm.org/si_crack_powder_sentencing_fact_sheet.htm

3. http://www.commondreams.org/pressreleases/Oct98/102298f.htm

4. http://www.advocatesforyouth.org/publications/factsheet/fsyngwom.pdf http://www.niaid.nih.gov/factsheets/aidsstat.htm

5. http://www.jbhe.com/vital/40_index.html

6. http://www.aegis.com/news/mh/1998/MH980803.html

7. http://www.jointcenter.org/selpaper/pdffiles/blackvot/2000/analysis_00.pdf

In my philosophy class recently, a classmate gave a presentation on feminist theory. First, she asked the class what the word feminism meant and people gave vague token answers. Then she asked the class what feminism meant on Spelman's campus and that's when things really got interesting. When one student said, "I don't know why feminism always has to be equated with lesbianism," other students shook their heads in agreement. Another girl asked, "Why does it always have to be about the lesbians?"

My classmates then brought up the National Day of Silence, an event recently sponsored by Afrekete (the Atlanta University Center's only gay/straight alliance) meant to raise awareness about GLBT Rights. (see Shutting Up to Get a Point Across for more about the Day of Silence) One woman said she would have participated in the days events except for fear of being labeled a lesbian and others agreed. I was floored.

How is it the fault of feminism that this student is afraid of how she will be labeled if she participates? How could events like this give the impression that lesbian rights were invading the campus, I wondered. Let's say somebody did assume that you were a lesbian because of your participation in the day's events or because you were a member of the Feminist Majority Leadership Alliance (FMLA) or Afrekete. What would happen if people thought that? Undoubtedly suspicions around my sexuality were rising in the minds of my classmates as I defended these groups, and tried to question their assumptions. I was still a heterosexual and still very much the same activist I had always been. It was clear to me that her internal struggle about participating in the day was not the fault of feminism itself.

But my protests were in vain and my classmates wrote off my activism and that of my fellow activists as the frustration of "lesbian man-haters." And I have since learned that the feelings voiced in this classroom, at this college, are not isolated or rare.

Growing up in a moderately liberal and tolerant Southern community, I was used to my beliefs as a feminist being accepted or, at worst, ignored by other people. In fact, my thoughts on strengthening the black community were always much harder for the general public to swallow in this predominately white setting than my feminism. I expected all of this to change when I arrived at Spelman College, a historically black all-women's institution. Truth be told, it did change, but not at all in the way that I imagined it would.

In class that day, I was seeing evidence of the general discomfort about feminism in society at large, and in the black community, in particular. I was learning how, even on a campus like Spelman's, young black women are often divided.

As a member of the FMLA, I had never been to a meeting where lesbianism had been discussed. In fact, I had never equated feminism with lesbianism or "man-hating." So, I started to wonder where this idea had come from.

Then the class raised a new point of contention. According to them, all the women involved in these organizations fit a certain "aesthetic," one that usually involved one or more of the following: natural hair, eccentric clothes, traditional African fabric, or veganism.

"I hate that people associate consciousness with an aesthetic," says fellow activist Delaine Ferguson. Her sentiment echoes that of a lot of people who are upset by a tendency some people have to associate both activism and lesbianism with a specific "look." For instance, short or locked hair seems to be an indicator of liberal politics and, to some, a sign that one is lesbian or bisexual.

Despite the fact that many women with traditionally "feminine" appearances do date other women, and vise-versa, these stereotypes remain fixed. But that day, the women in my philosophy class actually said they sometimes feel discriminated against because they don't look like they fit in with this "conscious young woman" mold.

It upsets me to think that people can't see the diversity within the feminist groups I belong to. Groups like Afrekete and the FMLA are so open that if anyone voices feelings of alienation, all the members take pause and the issue is dealt with genuinely. But I've learned the reality of being part of such groups is very different than the perception of what its like from the outside. And these stereotypes are so deeply rooted, they go back to long before we were born.

The truth is, feminism doesn't really have a good track record in the black community. The movement initially ignored the plight of minority and lower class women and has only recently accepted a more embracing doctrine. Slavery's emasculation of the black male continues to play a part in the psyche of the black community, causing the empowerment of women to be viewed suspiciously and often incorrectly as an attack on black men. The patriarchy under which slavery was instituted distorted the black family and left black men hungry for the power that white men possessed at the pinnacle of the slavery system. Homosexuality is also seen as running counter to the re-establishment of the "strong family" that many blacks were so desperately seeking after the disruption slavery caused. These deep-seated notions are not easily talked about, let alone dismantled.

But how did we get to the point where feminism and lesbianism became synonymous terms? Some say that we still live in a society where women's lives require male approval. Feminism counters these notions by putting an emphasis on loving yourself and rejecting this commonly perpetuated dependency on men. And it's true that most lesbians do draw a connection between having the space to foster intimate, loving relationships with other women and the women's movement. But many might also remind us that lesbianism has been around much longer than feminism as we know it today. The idea of self-reliant women goes against constructed gender role interplay. But this doesn't mean that feminist thinking "makes" a woman a lesbian. The modern mother of feminist thought, Gloria Steinam, is happily married to a man, a man who undoubtedly shares her beliefs.

The fact that two very different issues should be lumped together like this is troubling. Since when has sexual preference been able to predict a person's politics or vice versa?

Again, it's a complex and very current issue. The black community's frequent homophobia is directly responsible for young black women contracting HIV faster than any other group. Gay and bisexual black men often maintain relationships and marriages with women to maintain appearances of heterosexuality, simultaneously passing the virus on to unsuspecting female partners.

Meanwhile, lesbianism in the black community involves a weird double standard. It's easy to find beautiful women in rap and r & b videos kissing and dancing provocatively together but it is definitely portrayed through a patriarchal framework, in which the women are just an extension of some larger sexual exploit that has yet to happen. Actual lesbians have a much harder time finding acceptance in the black community. In fact, they are most often invisible. This means that when they do find a community where they are comfortable voicing their opinions, they often do so with a lot of energy and pride. I am proud to belong to a gay-straight alliance, and to support my queer and straight allies in two struggles that are linked but also very separate.

In the end, the women in my class who assume that the feminists on campus are all gay are relying on stereotypes. It can be difficult for people to see how their own prejudices impact the larger community. The reality is misconceptions like these do keep some young women from exploring feminism and challenging the roles that society wants them to play. But conversations like the one we had that day are important. The more we talk about our differences and our similarities, the more we can all break through these artificially constructed boundaries and develop a healthy community.

Moya Bailey , 19, is a rising sophmore at Spelnam College in Atlanta, Georgia. She will preside as president of the FMLA for the 2002-2003 school year while studying psychology (pre-med). Her last WireTap story was Black TV: What's Wrong With This Picture?