Posted on iLL-Literacy.com too!


A reaction by Adriel Luis

Over the last couple of years, iLL-Literacy has picked up somewhat of a reputation of being the "Ghostbusters of racism." From our arrival in Paris in 2005 just weeks after the outbreak of riots among disenfranchised Muslim youth, to our frequent visits to Auburn, Alabama that has witnessed a string of lets-show-up-in-blackface frat parties, to our collaboration with Virginia Tech's Asian American Student Union just one week after the campus' tragic event--our presence in communities throughout the world oftentimes materialize in the wake of complex questions dealing with race, gender, class, sexuality, and the ever-expanding palette of societal isms. All this, along with trying to be "spoken word rock stars," has been key in defining my group's art, image, and internal dynamic...and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Upon every given arrival in every given destination, we are aware that we really bring nothing more to the table than our words, and our existence. We visit universities and high schools and music festivals and even dingy poetry bars all based on a common hunger for addressing pertinent social issues, but also to do dope ass shows. When we began our "professional" career as geeky post-teens fondling our ambitions of slipping past the amateur stage, far from our minds was the concept of existing as an example of a new perception of American race. We would walk into restaurants in the deep South, completely oblivious to the bug-eyed stares that belonged to people who had never toyed with the idea of seeing Blacks and Asians at the same table. Our naivety had to quickly give way to proactiveness in extricating ourselves from our comfortable Bay Area racial bubble, and realize that just being who we are--our combination of races, skin colors, experiences--is an inescapably important platform for dialogue.

In February iLL-Literacy officially endorsed Barack Obama as President of the United States. It was not only the first time we've ever publicly supported a national politician, it was honestly the first time any of us had any strong opinions about politics besides "Fuck (fill in the blank with whatever horrible thing is/was going on at the time)." Not to say that we aren't political--anyone who has been to our shows knows that they're basically free-for-alls of opinions, gripes, and random shout-outs to Jay-Z. But all that was different politics. Those were our politics, which seemed clearly cut from their politics. The unjust deportation of Southeast Asian American immigrants? Our politics. The murder of Tookie Williams? Our politics. The implementation of slanted media to instigate Black and Asian conflict among the lower classes? Definitely our politics. Some distant election to decide among some candidates that all have the same vault of words and soundbites? Their politics.

Honestly, of the four members of iLL-Literacy I was the last one to give in to the idea of endorsing Barack. Not because I didn't like the guy, but because my experience of having the majority of my life run by a Bush had jaded me. I couldn't wrap myself around the idea of not not liking a president. Despite the fact that I lived in Chicago in 2004 when local enthusiasm for the then-senator candidate had taken hold. What finally convinced me, in fact, was that even in the midst of my cynicism, bitterness, and outright desire to hate whatever came out of a politician's mouth, I began feeling what Barack was saying. To the point where I'd react to his speeches aloud--with grunts of approval at first, then mouthing "wow" after certain statements, to finally having to pause and rewind speeches with my hands over my face. For the first time ever, I felt like the vernacular of a candidate was conforming to my personal vision.

I cannot stress enough how important Barack's March 18 speech is to me. By extension, I cannot stress enough how important Barack's speech is to iLL-Literacy's goal as an active entity in the grassroots arts effort. Even as spoken word heads who are known for traveling the world like we're some bootleg United Colors of Benetton ad, race is always a sensitive issue. It is always something that needs to be addressed with the utmost care and precision. It is a balance between respecting the carefully-constructed foundation laid by those of the past, and unleashing our rage as members of a generation that has grown up in an unspeakably awkward political atmosphere. As iLL-Literacy, we know how it is to walk the line between addressing how our unique racial architecture has composed our experience, and falling into it as a gimmick. We never want our races to be the reason someone supports us, but at the same time we respect the fact that it has often sparked the curiosity necessary for someone to take time to explore us.

I am glad that Barack is addressing the statements of Rev. Wright, even though I'm well aware that many people in my circle--including myself--don't see anything wrong with the pastor plain and simply saying some real ass shit. To hear Barack use this incident as a teaching moment to address race and class gives me hope. And I know that especially in these trying times, we've become so sensitive that any slip-up or imperfection can hurl us back into disillusionment (and rightfully so). During moments like these it may appear that hope is empty, or even worse yet, an indication that I've bought into some elaborate political scheme that will keep us in the same cesspool of self-destruction regardless of who our next president is. But in doing what I do, I have to believe in that hope. It's the same hope that I vie for at my shows when I spot that one Asian kid in a crowd that's looking at me like I'm the first thing on a microphone to ever relate to him. This hope might be baron, or all in my head, or blind, but it's the hope that has kept iLL-Lit going--from the jam-packed New York auditoriums of embracing fans one day, to the crowd of six bored-looking people in an echoey Ohio lecture hall the next day. Regardless of the setting, we speak because someone might be listening. And we support Barack, because for the first time in too long, he gives us a reason to listen.

Obama '08