Firstly, English classes – especially the advanced level literature classes – are about communication. Literature and writing is the communication of thought across both space and time; in fact, you are not reading this as I am thinking it, nor in the same place I wrote it. Yet my thoughts are being re-created in your mind as you read my words. Amazing. What is even more amazing is that music can do much of the same thing WITHOUT words (although words are also admittedly important to music, oftentimes). But there is something that is even more powerful about music, inasmuch as it primarily communicates emotion, rather than simply thought. This ability to create and re-create emotion is music’s power. If writing communicates thought, music communicates emotion.

So, are there other reasons to teach music in English class? One particular reason comes to mind immediately: Historical Context. Understanding the historical context of a piece of literature is exceedingly important. Music adds another component to a simple discussion of the historical context of a piece of literature.

Thirdly, an analysis of music –especially pop music- can teach a student to think critically about art aside from that which is assigned in class. We as English teachers spend hours upon hours discussing the symbolic significance or thematic structure of the elements of literature; why not apply this same acumen to music? Chances of student involvement in something that is typically more engaging to an adolescent than Shakespeare or Bronte make it worth the effort.

Assignment 1: Historical context groups.
Students will be broken into music research groups for each unit during the semester. If, for example, during the course of the semester we were to read Their Eyes Were Watching God, The Great Gatsby, The Grapes of Wrath, and The Catcher in the Rye, there would be four groups from the class, one for each book. Each group would be responsible for researching and presenting music from the era, geographic locale, and social strata of the subject of the book. For Hurston’s work the students would research early Southern blues music. For Great Gatsby it would be Big Band and Ragtime tunes from artists like Ellington or Joplin. Grapes of Wrath would look at early country and gospel music. Catcher in the Rye would research any pop music from New York in the 1940’s. This presentation would occur near the end of the literary unit, to give students a chance to prepare their musical selections and brief discussions of the significance of artist and song. The other requirement for the assignment would be the mandatory inclusion of any song which is specifically mentioned within the text.

Assignment 2: Socio-political/Geo-historical/Symbolic-Thematic Analysis of a Chosen Song. (Three week unit).

Each student will choose a song of his or her own liking. The only requirement for a song is that it has been recorded and is readily available to a mass audience (common on radio play, iTunes, CD, etc.). Students will sign up for a date to present their songs to the class. Songs must be chosen by sign up date; no two students may present the same song. Students may present multiple songs by the same artist. The students will be able to discuss their song beyond the simple and literal meaning of the lyrics. They will apply the methods used in the discussion of literature to popular music.

Requirements: On the student’s scheduled presentation day, he or she will play the song for the class and present a five to seven minute speech analyzing the symbolic, thematic, historical or socio-political implications of the lyrics, music, and artist’s intentions. All researched material will be properly cited on an accompanying handout for the class.

Handout requirements:
-Complete lyrics of the song, properly cited.
-Complete quotations from outside research, properly cited.
-A complete chronology of the writing, recording, publishing, and release of the song.
-A list of any awards, recognitions, influences upon the songwriter(s), influences which the song created.

Ideas for inclusion in presentation:
-Does the song have a deeper symbolic or allegorical significance? What is it?
-Was the song a response to a particular social event? Personal event from the songwriter’s life? Is the song dedicated to someone in particular? Does it refer to a political/cultural subject?
-Is the song associated with a particular era, either social, cultural or political?
-Does the song have a new meaning to our culture today (was it used in a commercial or a political campaign or a film)?
-What sorts of music, art, literature etc. influenced this particular artist? Was it inspired by another song or work of art or literature?
-What modern artists have been influenced by this particular work?
-What is your response to this work today as a modern listener? How does that differ from listeners when the song was originally released?

Written response:
All students will choose a particular song (other than his or her own) from the presentations and respond in essay format to the song itself and the presentation. Students can respond as musical critics, adolescent music fans, literary analysts, or any combination thereof. Students should pick an aspect of the song or presentation (or both) that they find compelling and construct an essay around a thesis which explores that particular line of thought. Essays should be about 500 words (2 pages typed).

Until Guns N Roses came out with Appetite for Destruction. Possibly the greatest hard rock record ever recorded, Appetite for Destruction took a chainsaw to glam rock and hair bands, sharpened heavy metal, and paved the way for the much more artistically serious Seattle movement that spawned Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and many others. But this review is not about the historical impact of Appetite, but rather its immediate and visceral impact upon its listeners in its day.

In 1987, I was listening to Bon Jovi. I had a copy of Back in Black, and I loved some of the older Stones stuff, and a little Aerosmith, but hard rock had gone soft. And then I heard the opening bars of “Welcome to the Jungle.� Axl Rose’s jagged and angry voice told me the story of the seduction of the big city, and the ugly underside of greed, lust, addiction, and urban isolation. It was almost as if Travis Bickle from Taxi Driver instead of shooting some pimps had written songs and produced an album. The songs were angry, misogynistic, guttural and jaded. Yet they maintained a humanity which was stirring.

The obvious hits from Appetite were “Welcome to the Jungle�, “Paradise City�, and “Sweet Child o’ Mine�. And while each of these singles contained a catchy tune and hook, and lyrics which were acceptable for radio play, the best songs were completely unacceptable to a mainstream audience.

“It’s So Easy� and “You’re Crazy� are both songs about living the fast life and the self destructive course of relationships between people who are primarily self-centered. The misogynistic lyrics of these two songs are tempered by the more sedate “My Michelle�, “Sweet Child O’ Mine� and “Think About You�, but it seems obvious that, like Hemingway, GNR sees women either as saving angels or whorish succubi. In “It’s So Easy� we hear Axl Rose tell an imagined female to “Turn around, bitch, I got a use for you / besides, you ain’t got nothin’ better to do / and I’m bored�. And while the narrator of “You’re Crazy� is “looking for a trace/lookin’ for a heart / lookin’ for a lover in a world that’s much too dark� he has no luck; instead he finds only a woman who is mentally unbalanced and uses her relationships for self-serving ends.

But the most compelling messages from Appetite for Destruction are obvious odes to addiction and self-destruction. “Mr. Brownstone� is a thinly veiled discussion of the increasing dependency upon heroin. The narrator begins by getting out of bed on time, enjoying himself, and performing his music. But then “I used to do a little but a little wouldn’t do it / so the little got more and more. / I just keep tryin’ to get a little better / a little better than before� until the song ends with the drug-induced frenzy of “I stuck it in the middle and I shot it in the middle and it drove me out of my mind/ I should of known better, said I wish I never met her/ said I’d leave it all behind.� The third track of the album, “Nightrain�, follows a similar path, with Axl Rose screaming about “riding the Nightrain� referencing alcoholism and a path of drunken addiction.

The overall effect of Appetite for Destruction is one of disillusion. It is to hard rock albums what Goodfellas was to gangster films. Before Goodfellas, The Godfather and dozen other films made the American thug seem noble, following his own code in defiance of society. Goodfellas showed us psychosis, drug addiction, jail time, infidelity, and self-destruction. Goodfellas was the first gangster movie to tell the truth. Appetite is the same thing, musically. Like Goodfellas, it is beautifully performed and produced, but it pulls no punches. If every other album of the mid-80’s was talking about partying and what fun it is to be a rocker on the road, Appetite for Destruction discussed the alienation of casual sex, the pain of addiction to booze and drugs, and the ugliness of urban life. But it told the truth. And like Keats wrote two hundred years ago, “Truth is beauty, beauty truth. That is all ye know in this life, and all ye need now.� Appetite for Destruction tells us a terrible truth, and is a beautiful piece of art because of its honesty.

“The latest news is that Syesha Mercado has appeared in a recent Ford Sync commercial. And of course Ford is one of the sponsors of American idol! Is there a connection there?� (http://the-moviebuff.blogspot.com/2008/02/american-idol-controversy.html)

So American Idol sucks. I could have told you that long ago. I guess making fun of semi- and untalented singers is fun to watch, but the finalists may have been pre-chosen for talent and connections. Color me aghast. Or not. Actually, not. Not aghast, not surprised, not caring.
Our next assignment is a critical response to a musical production, but this assignment is going to be of a similar sort; not as professionally developed, not as clearly articulated, not as concisely written, but a criticism, nonetheless. A criticism of the blight which is American Idol.
As an English teacher, I am concerned with art. I am responsible for the teaching of literary arts and language arts. As such, I work to have my students interact with art on various levels. First, I want them to be consumers of the art. I assign readings, I give quizzes, I assign basic, level-one reading comprehension type assignments to assure that they are at least looking at the art. Secondly, I urge critical thinking about said art. I ask deeper, probing questions which require thought – sometimes deep thought – about the implications of this art. (What does Hughes mean when he says his soul has grown deep like the rivers? What is the significance of Yeats’ rough beast, slouching toward Bethlehem to be born? Why is it that Macbeth attempts to kill every child within the play? What is it about Ethan Frome that sucks so very badly?) Thirdly, I encourage my students to partake in the art themselves. They can write critically, creating another sort of written art. They can write creatively, emulating the art we have read and discussed. They can read one another’s works, once again partaking and consuming the written art of language. Any lessons I teach about music will follow this same pattern. Music is simply language art in an alternate format. Literature and language arts are about critical thinking: how to “read� others’ thoughts, and how to articulate your own thoughts. Music does that, too.
Show business is sometimes in the business of creating and disseminating art. Other times it is simply in the business of making money. Oftentimes this money-making is popular, even entertaining. This does not necessarily make it art. I would argue that good show business does both – creates art and makes money, that is. American Idol is not good show business.
American Idol is a business. They are creating ratings – early in the season by showing embarrassing acts which the viewers mock, later in the season by producing some genuine talent. There is also the archetypal subtext of the American hero’s journey. Poor kid makes good. Cream rises to the top. Talent will out. Anyone can succeed in America. They create ratings, sell ad time, create a profit. The performers become another product to be managed. Their careers are, by and large, already mapped out by agents and production companies. American Idol turns people into commodities. It makes money, but it creates no art.
The songs are written by someone we seldom (or never) see. The songs are then “covered� by artists who don’t do as good of a job as the original singers. The songs do not belong to the singers, and the singers make no claim upon the songs. There is no creation, no art. There is only a dog and pony show, with a popularity contest attached to it.
Good music (and all good art) is like gourmet food. Bob Dylan and Mozart and Ray Charles and Johnny Cash are the musical equivalent to filet mignon and caviar and gourmet cheese and good red wine. The “art� touted by American Idol is a greasy Macdonald’s hamburger. If I am in the business of teaching art, I will not use American Idol. People don’t go to gourmet cooking schools to learn how to make a Big Mac.

A Critique of Hip Hop
(In two parts…)
Part 1.
In the 1990s, gangsta rap became mainstream, beginning in about 1992, with the release of Dr. Dre's The Chronic. This album established a style called G Funk, which soon came to dominate West Coast hiphop. Later in the decade, record labels based out of Atlanta, St. Louis and New Orleans gained fame for their local scenes. By the end of the decade, especially with the success of Eminem, hip hop was an integral part of popular music, and many American pop songs had a major hiphop component, with artists like Eazy-E.
….
After N.W.A. broke up, Dr. Dre (a former member) released The Chronic (1992), which peaked at #1 on the R&B/hip hop chart and #3 on the pop chart and spawned a #2 pop single in "Nothin' But a 'G' Thang".. The Chronic took West Coast rap in a new direction, influenced strongly by P funk artists, melding the psychedelic funky beats with slowly drawled lyrics—this came to be known as G funk, and dominated mainstream hip hop for several years through a roster of artists on Death Row Records, including most popularly, Snoop Doggy Dogg, whose Doggystyle included "What's My Name" and "Gin and Juice", both Top Ten pop hits. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hip_Hop_music)

I remember sitting across a cafeteria table from Tre Pryor, my senior year in high school. Tre had his headphones on and was listening to a new CD. The artist was Dr. Dre, and the album was The Chronic. The year was 1992 and my love affair with West Coast “gangsta shit� had begun. Warren G, Nate Dogg, Snoop Dogg, Tha Dogg Pound, Daz, Kurupt, Tupac, and eventually Eminem became my soundtrack for the next decade. They provided the background music for every good time I had. But here’s the thing: the music told a story. It told of a lifestyle and an attitude that was completely fascinating. The lyrics were controversial and adult. The beats were hypnotic. And while I am not (have never been, will never be) a gangster, I was fascinated by this music. It struck a chord with me, like the gangster films of Scorsese and DePalma, like the Sopranos and the Wire on HBO. Dr. Dre would rap “Now soon as I said it/ seems I got sweated/
By some nigga with a tech 9 tryin' to take mine/ ya wanna make noise, make noise
I make a phone call my niggaz comin' like the Gotti boys/ bodies bein' found on Greenleafwith their fuckin heads cut off/ motherfucker i'm Dre/
so listen to the play-by-play, day-by-day/rollin' in my '4 with 16 switches/
And got sounds for the bitches, clockin' all the riches /Got the hollow points for the snitches.� I could see the cars, the guns, the thugs, the women, the streets. Which leads to my assignment:

Part 2. Digital storytelling.

Allow my students to pick a song which tells a story (this does not necessarily just need to be hip hop, by the way). Using the song as soundtrack, they must create a digital story which contains all the ingredients of a more traditional narrative: setting, characters, conflict, theme, resolution. Using various software (Voicethread, PowerPoint, Comic Life, iMovie, or MovieMaker) the students would create a complete short story which would be narrated by their musical selection. This could be used in any creative writing class, or to explore the components of story and plot within a more traditional literature class.

Musical Censorship

I don’t believe in censorship. Not now, not ever. Not because someone is sexually suggestive, or because they talk about violence. Not because the artist is black, or because the artist is gay. I don’t think that businesses should be coerced into particular practices by the government because some people are offended by a lyric.

I don’t believe in censorship.

To think that violence or sexuality must automatically dismiss the viability of a particular piece of art is to ignore some of the most important art in history.

Thomas Newkirk’s Misreading Masculinity points out the hypocrisy of our concern with violence literature and pop culture, when we are simultaneously teaching such violent literature as Beowulf or Hamlet or Oedipus Rex. Each of these literary works, and many others, contain scenes of violence far more graphic than those contained in adolescent popular music. Most of these “disturbing� works by bands like Marilyn Manson or Megadeth are no more threatening to their listeners than these violent literary classics. Newkirk states that what makes Hamlet acceptable and Ozzy Osbourne not acceptable in the eyes of educators is not their content, but rather their intended audience. Social class and/or age group considerations are the result of a kind of superiority complex on the part of those in power, including teachers, who act as self-appointed elites which have both the right and duty to judge the tastes of the perceived “lower classes.�
The nonelite group that chooses to watch the more popular versions of violence is perceived as more susceptible to suggestion, less capable of keeping the proper distance, more volatile. All of which leads to the question: Is the issue really about violence, or is it about the social class (and age group) the violence appeals to? (2002, 96)
Newkirk uses the example of Anthony Comstock, the post-Civil War federal postal censor and moral crusader, who was sure to censor any type of nudity that catered to people of low income and little education, but ignored nudity in artwork which was admired by the rich and elite members of society (2002, 96-97). Teacher censorship of student writing, reading, or music which depicts violence is a similar type of hypocrisy – decrying the violence as unacceptable when it originates in a young person, but discussing the literary merit of violence when it is written by Shakespeare or Sophocles.

So-called sexual content suffers a similar fate at the hands of teachers in today’s society. The sexual content (which is largely innuendo) of Romeo and Juliet or Their Eyes Were Watching God is acceptable, but the sexuality depicted in modern music is apparently not.

By and large, I find myself in accord with Newkirk’s ideas. The idea that any type of violence or inappropriate content is unarguably deleterious to the students’ well-being is simply ludicrous. As Newkirk convincingly argues through analyses of various scientific and sociological studies, children of all ages are obviously able to differentiate between actual and feigned violence, and understand that there are acceptable and unacceptable types of violence in various media. Almost all students understand that writing which contains an implicit or explicit threat is completely inappropriate under any circumstances.

Newkirk, Thomas. Misreading Masculinity. 2002. Portsmouth, NH. Heinemann.

One of my earliest memories is of riding with my father in his yellow Toyota Celica and digging through his tape case and picking out music to listen to. He had the Stones and the Eagles and Waylon Jennings in his tape case. Fleetwood Mac, but we never listened to that one. My dad liked music that was masculine, and with an edge to it. I remember listening to music with my mom, too (Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was a favorite album in my mom’s car); her music wasn’t dangerous like my dad’s. “Mommas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys.� “Satisfaction.� “Hotel California.� These were songs that were about adults. Even as a kid I knew the Stones were singing about sex. I still don’t really know what the hell “Hotel California� is about, but my dad gives a great interpretation that it’s about addiction.
See, my dad was tough. Hell, he still is, even though he’s sixty and can barely walk because he’s got arthritic hips. My dad owned guns. He hunted and fished. His dad had been a Marine, and died when my dad was only twelve. My dad grew up poor and got rich the old fashioned way: he worked his ass off, constantly. My dad had friends who drank beer and listened to rock and roll and outlaw country. His music was always tough, too. When my dad got home from work (always after we were done with dinner), I’d know he was home because I’d hear his music from his car all the way in my bedroom. He’d be blasting Elvis or the Stones and singing along. My brother and I would run out to see him. Later, when he took us hunting, it was Johnny Cash and Waylon and Willie. Kris Kristofferson. Conway Twitty.
It’s interesting, because I don’t remember him ever listening to a woman singer. Now he loves pop country female vocalists; I tell him he’s going through a second adolescence. But all that early stuff stuck with me. I’ve got all those old artists (except the Eagles, I guess) on my iPod today. And when I’m headed to deer camp, I still listen to Waylon and Johnny and Willie. But my dad always loved music. He’d tell my brother and I stories about Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels in concert. The Beatles. Sinatra. My brother and I both became music nuts as a result.
I branched out. I grew up with my dad’s music, but I also was there for the birth of gangster rap and metal. Guns N Roses and NWA were tough, too, and I listened to them in middle school. Hell, I still listen to them. I grew to love rap. It was music about protest and being tough. And you could dance to some of it; I’m a dancer, too. My musical tastes know no bounds. So I got into West Coast rap – Snoop Dogg, Dre, Eazy E, Tupac. That was my soundtrack for parties all the way through college. But I was also simultaneously exposed to folk stuff; my roommate was similarly eclectic, and introduced my to James Taylor and John Denver. And we both loved Sinatra, so that got played constantly, too.
So in the end, I listened to almost everything. I literally listen to it all. Crazy house parties with Michael Jackson and Snoop Dogg Soundtracks. Dinner parties with classic stuff like Dean Martin and Sinatra. Folk-y music from James Taylor sung to my kids at night. I sat up all night once in college with a group of friends, drinking beer and listening to Bob Dylan and then Pink Floyd and having deep conversation. I’ve gotten drunk to Jimmy Buffett more times than I can recollect. I’ve driven at night with the sound of “Riders on the Storm� and “The End� from the Doors freaking me out. I’ve had my heart broken and the soundtrack was anything cheesy on LITE FM.
And now I’m married with two kids, and I go back to it all, and still pull in new stuff. My daughter loves “The Year 3000� by the Jonas Brothers. My son listens to John Williams’ themes from Star Wars and Superman and Indiana Jones and hums along and smiles. And whenever Lionel Ritchie comes on the radio with “You are the sun / you are the rain / you make this life a foolish game� I crank it up and my wife and I smilingly sing along, because that’s our song. It has no significance for us at all; it was just on the radio one day and we decided it was our song.

Response to School of Rock

The most basic underlying assumption about teachers, especially private school teachers, in The School of Rock is that they are the diametric opposite of rock stars. If a rock star is about rebellion, freedom, and a disavowal of the traditional lifestyle of family, home, job and responsibility, then the traditional teacher is the agent who works to curb any “rock star� tendencies in the individual student. Central to this premise is not Jack Black’s Dewey Finn, but Rosalie Mullins, as played by Joan Cusack. Miss Mullins plays the straight-laced administrator who acts as the voice of the school, the voice of authority, and the foil to Dewey Finn. However, as the movie progresses, we see both the human side of Miss Mullins, as well as the sources of her tendencies toward control and conformity.
It is interesting that the straight-laced and disciplinarian Miss Mullins is really a fan of rock and roll. It seems that it only takes a couple of beers to bring out the Stevie Nicks fan in the uptight principal. I think that School of Rock does a good job of breaking down the stereotype of the “jailer� or “drillmaster� in the character of Miss Mullins. We see the source of her attitudes and insecurities when she talks about her perceptions of the teachers’ attitudes towards her, and the pressure she feels from parents. Similarly, when the students leave school to attend the battle of the bands, we empathize with her plight; she will be blamed for any mistakes made by her staff, or by the students themselves, regardless of her own culpability within the situation. This is, of course, the ultimate reason for her inability to allow derivation from the standard and rigid practices of education.
Dewey Finn, of course, follows an opposite course. He begins his job as a substitute teacher as a wannabe rock star, intent upon NOT teaching. He eventually does the opposite. In spite of his hatred of “the Man�, he becomes a teacher and an authority figure, assigning students into various roles and managing their lessons in an attempt to achieve a tangible goal. And while his initial goal is simply self serving – to win the battle of the bands, and make money for himself – he eventually continues to work with the kids even when there is no particular benefit for him to do so. I guess this places him into the “agent of social change� category, but I don’t think that’s really what School of Rock is all about.
School of Rock – as well as Mr. Holland’s Opus, Dead Poet’s Society, and a million other films about teachers – is about making education engaging. It is about taking the most easily bored section of human society – adolescents and pre-teens – and making them interested in a subject which would not normally be interesting. The average teacher is fricking boring. Boring, boring, boring. Their classes are snooze-fests. And they shouldn’t be – history, literature, art, even science and math, are filled with some of the most exciting topics known to humanity. But the cinderblock walls and the fluorescent lights and the quizzes and tests and learner-based pedagogy work to destroy anything fascinating along the way. And since the average teacher is more worried about getting in trouble with his or her principal than with engaging his or her students, classes tend to stay boring.
Until Dewey Finn comes along (or Mr. Holland or Mr. Keating). Because Dewey brings passion. Dewey brings humor. Dewey believes in what he says. Dewey wants his students to have fun. And most importantly, in this film, Dewey brings music.
What better way to engage an audience? Humanity responds to music. Do you think Raiders of the Lost Ark would have been nearly as good without that Indiana Jones theme music? Would several hundred thousand young hippies have gathered at Woodstock for peace, love and happiness if there had been no bands? People don’t travel across country to see their favorite poet read at some coffeehouse. But they will follow the Grateful Dead for several decades. (I personally drove to Alpine Valley in Wisconsin –eight hours- to see Jimmy Buffett). Young couples have “their song�. Superheroes have theme music. Every TV show starts with a musical introduction. Music is engaging to humanity, and is therefore all the more reason for it to be included in the classroom. If the students are not engaged, they will never learn a thing.

Rambling thoughts in no particular order in response to the readings.

Beginning with a definition of literature.
Literature is a body of written works related by subject-matter, by language or place of origin, or by dominant cultural standards, according to Wikipedia and the Oxford Dictionary of Literary Terms. The italics above are mine. I begin with the position that modern, and even (God forbid) popular music is part of our society’s literature, whether it is recognized by English teachers/professors or not. The snobbery of those in charge of the canon and canonization do not change the fact that music (both its lyrics and melody) is written, and is consumed en masse by our society. It defines American society as much as – if not moreso than- any work of Walt Whitman or F. Scott Fitzgerald or Zora Neale Hurston.
For some reason, academics feel the need to protect the morality of their students. In the 19th century, “pop� works by Poe, Twain, and Whitman were eschewed by the elites of the universities and secondary schools. They were considered too violent or too “low-brow� or too sexual. Today they are embraced and touted as works of literary genius. What works of art are considered too violent or sexual or low-brow today that will be held up to the next generation as brilliant art? (I shudder to think that the work of Britney Spears or any Boy Band will ever be described as art, but who knows? Maybe I’m just a blue-blooded English teacher snob).
I guess my thesis statement for the above two paragraphs should be a simple assertion that I agree with the thoughts of Gerald Graff. Especially:
I see my goal as a teacher, and the bottom-line goal of education, as that of demystifying the “club we belong to� and breaking up its exclusivity. I want to help students enter this club, which often involves flushing out and engaging their resistance to entering, addressing questions about why as well as how. Demystifying the club, furthermore, means changing the club itself as much as it means changing students. It means widening our notion of who qualifies as “intellectual� and building on the argumentative talents students already possess.
(Graff, 2003)

Brief discussion of race, re: the Wikipedia Article.
Black music defines American existence. I find it not at all surprising that the first thoroughly “American� popular music came out of minstrelsy and black-face. Minstrelsy was black music co-opted by white men. Jazz was the same. Rock was the same. Rap and hip-hop were never considered important (let alone dangerous) until white kids in the suburbs started listening to it. Eminem remains the best-selling rapper of all time, and he’s white. Chuck Berry invented rock n’ roll, but Elvis is the King. Robert Johnson defined the Blues, but Eric Clapton sold more records.
We value (as a society) the art that Europeans invent. Leonardo da Vinci is in history books. Shakespeare is studied. But I’ve never seen the founders of American Music studied in class. Our literary and historical canon has (until just recently) managed to completely ignore the contributions of any African Americans, even in the areas which they invented.