Enacting Hip-Hop Pedagogy for Joy and Justice

Abstract

This self-study illustrates how one Asian male immigrant teacher educator enacted hip-hop pedagogy to promote joy and justice in a multicultural education course at a predominantly white institution in the Pacific Northwest. Implications include how teacher educators can model hip-hop pedagogy to prepare all teacher candidates to cultivate joy and justice in their future classrooms amidst growing inequity and division in U.S. society.

Keywords:

• Multicultural education
• hip-hop pedagogy
• joy
• justice

There have been increasing calls to diversify the U.S. K–12 teaching force, yet many U.S. teacher education programs are fraught with whiteness regarding curricula, student and faculty demographics, and operational structures (Sleeter, 2017). Often, whiteness manifests in many teacher candidates’ negative affect (e.g., anger, guilt, shame) and resistance to exploring multicultural education (Matias, 2016). For example, instructors of multicultural education are often accused of contradicting “democratic value commitments to unity and national loyalty,” and having “no research bases to support their claims of pedagogical power” (Gay, 2005, p. 223). Existing research explicates how to address resistance to multicultural education in teacher education programs (e.g., Cochran-Smith, 2004), yet little is known about how teacher educators can promote joy and justice concurrently through multicultural education. In particular, no empirical studies have examined how hip-hop pedagogy can contribute to this goal in teacher education and counter the often-mischaracterized aims of multicultural education.

Blending Theories

Multicultural education emerged in the United States during the 1970s to counter mainstream schooling that pathologized children of Color from low-income backgrounds as culturally deficient (Banks, 2019). As the field evolves, many scholars have proposed diverse pedagogical practices based on the assets of communities of Color. These include funds of knowledge (Moll et al., 1992), educating the whole child (Pang, 1998), culturally responsive teaching (Gay, 2000), culturally relevant pedagogy (Ladson-Billings, 2009), and culturally sustaining pedagogy (Paris & Alim, 2014). Although using somewhat different perspectives, these scholars argued that teaching should build on all students’ cultural repertoires, validate their cultural heritages, and extend their learning capacities for success in and beyond school.

Hip-Hop pedagogy was conceptualized within this scholarly lineage. Alim (2012) stated that hip-hop pedagogy is rooted in hip-hop culture and moves beyond superficially integrating rap music into classrooms. Instead, it entails teachers helping students deconstruct hegemonic ideologies and resist systemic injustices through critical self-reflection (Bridges, 2011). When enacting hip-hop pedagogy successfully, teachers can engage students better in learning, sustain their communal assets, and disrupt prevailing culturally deficit paradigms in schools (Emdin, 2021). Following hip-hop traditions, I “remixed” ideas from various pedagogs and scholars into five conceptual tenets to examine how hip-hop pedagogy can promote joy and justice in teacher education. These are:

1. Staying fresh to sync with and adapt to evolving pedagogical knowledge, technology skills, and popular culture (Ladson-Billings, 2017). This tenet is rooted in hip-hop artists’ innovative expressions to constantly push the boundaries of popular culture.

2. Sampling and mixing funds of knowledge to make learning culturally relevant and develop students’ multiple intelligence (Ladson-Billings, 2017). This principle speaks to hip-hop artists pulling from and mashing up diverse resources to create art.

3. Coteaching, modeling the synchronous energy between an emcee and the audience in a hip-hop concert, to empower students to showcase their mastery of knowledge through planning and delivering lessons together (Emdin, 2016).

4. Authentic storytelling, aligning with hip-hop artists’ deconstruction of master narratives, to encourage students and teachers to critically dialogue with each other and heal personal wounds (Hill, 2009).

5. Cultivating joy through song, dance, and other artistic expressions in teaching and learning, mirroring the contagious delight of engaging in hip-hop (Love, 2015).

Knowledge Base

Research on hip-hop pedagogy in teacher education has been present but sporadic. A few teacher educators analyze how this instructional approach can incite teacher candidates’ critical consciousness about inequities impacting students in urban schools. For example, Hanley (2007) illustrated how hip-hop art forms such as spoken word poetry, combined with her vulnerable storytelling as an African American educator, cultivated an empathetic learning community that engaged teacher candidates with examining educational injustices. Porfilio and Malott (2011) shared their experiences using rap lyrics to engender critical dialogues with White teacher candidates. Although some students resisted these two White male teacher educators’ efforts, the majority learned to “unpack the unearned privileges the larger systems of power confer to them and other White citizens a priori in various social contexts” (p. 76).

Other researchers have examined how teacher educators use hip-hop pedagogy in content methods courses to expand teacher candidates’ asset-based pedagogical repertoires. For example, Cason’s (2018) mixed-methods study showed how a White female mathematics teacher educator merged elements of hip-hop (e.g., mcing, graffiti) with teaching materials (e.g., mathematics rap battle videos, diverse children’s books) at a predominantly white institution. Another case study by Rose (2018) described how a Black male science teacher educator embodied hip-hop esthetics, such as sampling and cypher, at a predominantly White institution to help teacher candidates construct academic knowledge related to hip-hop culture. Both studies suggest that sampling and mixing content and cultural knowledge in curriculum and instruction can improve teacher candidates’ perceptions and use of hip-hop pedagogy.

These studies demonstrate the power of hip-hop pedagogy with some notable gaps. First, current research often falls into the Black and White racial binary, resulting in little knowledge of how teacher educators from other racial backgrounds facilitate hip-hop pedagogy. Second, most of these studies have examined White teacher candidates’ responses to hip-hop pedagogy without any insights from teacher candidates of Color. Third, existing research demonstrates how hip-hop pedagogy can engender varied reactions (e.g., empathy, resistance) in teacher education, but none has explored how it can also stimulate joy since joy is an essential element of teaching and learning. Thus, this study addresses these gaps.

Playing with Tools

As a teacher educator committed to improving my pedagogy, I naturally gravitate to self-study. A branch of qualitative methodology, self-study is crucial for teacher education because it can connect teacher educators’ practices with existing research, expand the knowledge of teacher education, and better inform policymakers (Zeichner, 2007). It can also help teacher educators counter some constraints (e.g., penal accountability, strict mandates) imposed on teacher education programs (Goodwin, 2009). Most importantly, it can inspire the teacher education community to use research to dismantle systemic injustices and build solidarity with marginalized communities (Taylor & Diamond, 2020). Hence, this method is appropriate for examining:

• How did one Asian male immigrant teacher educator enact hip-hop pedagogy for joy and justice in a multicultural education course at a predominantly white institution in the Pacific Northwest?

• How did teacher candidates enrolled in this course respond to the Asian male immigrant teacher educator’s pedagogical approaches?

When and Where I Enter

I came to the United States in 2006 to pursue a master’s degree at a predominantly white institution in Kentucky. When I graduated in 2008, I secured a teaching position in a public charter school in Southern Arizona that served predominantly Mexican American students from working-class families. Not well-versed in the students’ funds of knowledge, I struggled to teach them through their cultural repertoires. As I continued to be marginalized by white privilege at work, I connected my reality as a Chinese male immigrant with my students, many of whom were dehumanized by U.S. immigration policies. This connection helped me reconfigure my identity as a male immigrant teacher of Color and improved my teaching practices and relationship building. In 2015, I relocated to the Pacific Northwest to pursue a doctorate in Multicultural Education at another predominantly white institution and subsequently worked as a teaching assistant at the institution’s teacher education program.

Although the teacher education program claimed to promote diversity, I was the only male teaching assistant of Color for two years. The daily isolation and the racial antagonism I often encountered at work made me leave the program before my contract ended. Paradoxically, I learned that I should not hold deficit views of any teacher candidate but use creative pedagogical approaches to engage them in learning (Irby et al., 2013). With the training and mentorship from eminent scholars in Multicultural Education (e.g., Geneva Gay, Gloria Ladson-Billings), I developed a repertoire of asset-oriented culturally-based pedagogies. I also spent time reading Can’t Stop Won’t Stop (Chang, 2005) and Hip Hop Speaks to Children (Giovanni, 2008); listening to The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (Hill, 1998) and Self: Volume 1 (Mountain Brothers, 1998); and watching Do the Right Thing (Lee, 1989) and Lemonade (Beyoncé et al., 2016). In sum, these learning experiences helped me better understand the historical and cultural foundations of hip-hop and prepared me to enact hip-hop pedagogy to advance joy and justice.

Collecting and Analyzing Data

Data of this study came from the Multicultural Education course I taught at another local predominantly white institution between January and February 2020. The 33 teacher candidates were predominantly White, female, heterosexual, monolingual, middle-class, and U.S. citizens. Four of them were of Color, and three self-identified as LGBTQ. Following the recommendations of Asian male immigrant educators such as Mungal (2020), I collected various data such as the course syllabus, teaching materials, student assignments, artifacts, communications, course evaluations, and personal reflections. I began data analysis using open coding to condense data and identify recurring themes (e.g., justice, joy). I then triangulated data through the tenets outlined in the conceptual framework to make sense of my pedagogy and student responses (Saldaña, 2015). Next, I asked three mentors to review my paper, whose feedback improved the internal validity of my analysis (Merriam & Tisdell, 2015). This approach situated my study in qualitative methodological conventions and structured the writing of the following sections.

Enacting

I organized the findings according to the five tenets outlined in the conceptual framework to explicate how hip-hop pedagogy can promote joy and justice in teacher education.

Staying Fresh

One element of hip-hop pedagogy is the ability to stay fresh in knowledge. I introduced various asset-oriented culturally-based pedagogies and used case studies of diverse ethnic and racial groups to illustrate how these theories look like in practice. For example, when discussing educating Indigenous students in the United States, I selected empirical research on successful teaching of different Indigenous peoples, such as Alaskan Natives (Kleinfeld, 1975), Native Hawaiians (Au, 1980), and Navajos (McCarty & Lee, 2014). I also used short documentaries such as A Place in the Middle (Hamer & Wilson, 2014) that examined the intersections of Indigeneity, gender, and teaching. These instructional materials chronicled the (r)evolution of culturally-based pedagogies, exemplified the ethnic heterogeneity within racialized groups, and explained why and how culture is dynamic and constantly evolving.

Another way I stayed fresh is by using technology and popular culture in teaching to help teacher candidates critique the status quo. When teacher candidates finished reading Power and Place (Deloria & Wildcat, 2001), I asked them to reflect on their takeaways in writing for 10 minutes and discuss their thoughts with peers. I then played the music video Prayers in a Song (Tall Paul, 2017). Infusing Anishinaabemowin lyrics with rap music, Tall Paul conveyed how urbanization displaced Indigenous communities in the United States and how teachers similarly erased Indigenous students’ linguistic and cultural heritages through mainstream schooling. The song’s message echoed the central concept presented by Deloria and Wildcat (2001): Western scientific paradigms contradict Indigenous epistemologies, and teachers must decolonize their Western socialization to honor Indigenous cultures in their classrooms.

After playing the music video, I instructed teacher candidates to choose a quote from Deloria and Wildcat related to the message from Tall Paul, spend 30 minutes outside to find a scene on campus representative of the quote they chose, and take a photograph of the scene with their electronic devices. When everyone returned, I asked them to form a circle and said,

You will each step to the center of the circle, read aloud the quote you chose, share the photograph you took, and explain why your picture aligns with the quote. If anyone else resonates with the explanation, step to the center of the circle. Then the person who first shared will choose the next person to repeat the process till everyone shares their insight.

A teacher candidate of Color shared her photograph of a small garden on campus and stated:

At first glance, this may seem like a natural place among the concrete buildings, but there is nothing natural about a place built by humans on stolen lands. This garden reminded me of what Deloria and Wildcat observed, ‘Western epistemology has been privileged as the natural way of knowing while Indigenous knowledge has been denigrated.’

About ten others joined this teacher candidate in the circle. She then chose a White female peer to go next, who shared:

I took a picture of a flower growing from the concrete because of its tenacity against human regulation. According to Deloria and Wildcat, Indigenous communities continue to resist all forms of dehumanization. As a future teacher, I should acknowledge the trauma Indigenous peoples have endured, and more so, honor their resilience.

These statements suggested that both teacher candidates could connect real-life examples with Indigenous epistemology to challenge dominant narratives. At the end of the activity, one White female teacher candidate stated, “I’ve never had a teacher who asked students to interpret readings this way, which is so refreshing!” I replied, “The students in your future classrooms are in tune with technology and popular culture. So, you have to constantly adapt your teaching to their social and cultural repertoires to stay relevant. Otherwise, they’ll tune you out!”

To complement my teaching technique, I asked teacher candidates to analyze Since Time Immemorial (OSPI, 2015), a curriculum endorsed by all 29 federally recognized Native Nations in Washington State that provides unit plans for local K–12 schools to introduce tribal histories and cultures. Here is an excerpt from two White female teacher candidates who examined the unit on the United States v. Washington (1974) and reflected on their teaching responsibilities:

We both learned so much about Native fishing rights, the path of fighting for those rights, and the direct consequences of increasing population, industrialization, and expansion. Through studying this unit, we began to see the injustice of bypassing the treaty to open ancestral grounds to fishing. As benefactors of this mistreatment, we must teach the wrongs that allowed ourselves and others to live as we do and model to White students how to use our privilege to help people who have been systematically oppressed.

The examples above suggested that staying fresh in curriculum, teaching, and assignment can encourage all teacher candidates to familiarize themselves with evolving knowledge, practice technology skills in learning, and approach teaching from an activist stance.

Sampling and Mixing

Another tenet of hip-hop pedagogy is the capacity to sample and mix diverse funds of knowledge to engender meaningful learning. I modeled this tenet by dressing differently for each session since dress codes indicate various social norms. For the first class, I put on a navy blue sweatshirt with pink fishermen prints, a pair of navy blue pants, and red loafers. Gradually, I wore tailored suits and dress shoes in different colors. For the last class, my apparel included a navy blue jacket, a white dress shirt, and a pair of jeans and white sneakers. When one White male teacher candidate asked why I changed my attire for each class, I replied, “Because there are very few Asian men in the teaching profession in the United States, so I strategically remix my clothing styles to challenge mainstream norms and entice you to do the same.”

Besides sampling and mixing social curricula (e.g., dress codes), I used various methods to help teacher candidates explore how culture is deeply embedded in teaching and learning. When discussing educating ethnically diverse Latinx students, I shared my reflection of working with a Mexican American community in Southern Arizona:

One important lesson I learned from my K–12 teaching experiences is that all students bring their special funds of knowledge to schools. For example, many of my former students speak Spanish fluently and practice traditional cultural ceremonies at home. Some of them listened to hip-hop music and rapped in English and Spanish regularly!

Afterward, I instructed each teacher candidate to reflect on a personal experience connected with Funds of Knowledge (Moll et al., 1992) or Beginning with El Barrio (Irizarry & Raible, 2011). I then asked each teacher candidate to find a partner, share their story, and record what they have learned from their peers. This method seemed helpful to expand the pedagogical repertoires of teacher candidates, as evinced in one of their journal reflections, “Writing my personal experience helps me see how I can make learning culturally relevant to my students by connecting their funds of knowledge with academic content.”

Another way I helped teacher candidates sample and mix funds of knowledge is by assigning the “Identity Bag,” which asked them to select five items representing their identity. Each person’s bag included at least one food item representing their ethnic heritage, one item signaling their cultural communication style, and one item illustrating their family (however they define the term). This assignment helped many teacher candidates recognize their unique funds of knowledge and how their lived experiences may influence their teaching. For example, one White teacher candidate included an item depicting her communication style:

I grew up in the South. ‘Ma’am’ and ‘Sir’ are used when talking to anyone of an older generation in my family. So, I included an empty swear jar in my Identity Bag because the cultural rules in this dimension are so strong that I conformed to them without mistake and because I can easily code-switch to not swearing or using formal titles.

Another White teacher candidate shared an item representing parts of his identity:

This ‘emote with me’ is a little gift a queer and trans friend gave me. Queer and trans chosen family have saved my life. I value what this picture shows: healthy masculinity. In a world where toxic masculinity is rampant, I hope my version of manhood is a healing balm for my future students who have been wounded by patriarchy.

I then asked teacher candidates to bring their items to class for a gallery walk and potluck that showcased diverse cuisines, such as butterkäse, cannoli, and pâte à choux. One teacher candidate of Color even brought his rice cooker to ensure that the temperature of the rice would be appropriate for nigiri sushi. I also joined the potluck by bringing homemade dumplings. In explaining the cultural significance of this traditional cuisine, I shared with the class:

Dumplings are parts of the traditional cuisine for the Lunar New Year and represent parts of my heritage. They symbolize fortune, reunion, and the importance of family. The ones I brought today were made of pork, shrimp, and napa cabbage. Plus, my parents made them. So, you are spoiled by some of the best chefs in the world!

As teacher candidates sampled cuisines from different regions of the world, they viewed each other’s Identity Bag, asked clarifying questions, and exchanged family recipes. I played the soundtrack of Kikujiro (Hisaishi, 1999) to fill their gallery walk with upbeat music. In sum, my dressing style, teaching methods, and learning activities encouraged all teacher candidates to (re)discover their funds of knowledge and develop their sampling and mixing skills.

Coteaching

In hip-hop concerts, an emcee often “moves the crowd” by synchronizing the rhythm and energy from the audience. I mirrored this type of flow by gradually building teacher candidates’ capacity to coteach with me. During session two, I asked teacher candidates to jigsaw read The Dreamkeepers (Ladson-Billings, 2009) and teach each other their jigsaw chapter.

I started the class by showing a lecture by Gloria Ladson-Billings (2018) to contextualize the three tenets of culturally relevant pedagogy. Afterward, I designated one hour for each group to rehearse their teaching and provided feedback as needed. During the coteaching session, one group designed a “six corners” activity based on the book by designating six classroom corners with different teaching styles: conductors, coaches, tutors, general contractors, custodians, and referral agents. Then they asked their peers to stand in a corner, representative of their preferred teaching style, and explain whether it would improve the academic engagement of Black students. This example suggested that teacher candidates were building their pedagogical repertoires as they taught each other.

As the course progressed, I strategically asked teacher candidates to volunteer to co-plan with me. For example, the required readings of the last session included You Gotta Fight the Power (Ladson-Billings, 2015) and Why Black Lives (and Minds) Matter (Howard, 2016). A male teacher candidate of Color and a female White teacher candidate developed their plans to teach the second article while I was to teach the first one. We exchanged lesson plans over email to ensure that our teaching would be cohesive and met for half an hour before class to discuss possible challenges and solutions. As I finished delivering my lesson, I stated, “Two of your peers will teach the next article. I’m going to sit with the rest of you and be a student.”

The two teacher candidates started with this question: How can we foster an environment in our classroom for and with Black students similar to the Children’s Defense Fund Freedom School program described by Howard (2016)? They directed everyone to stand in two lines, face a partner, and discuss the question. Then they asked each line to rotate one step to the opposite direction so that each peer had a different discussion partner. The classroom grew lively as each pair shared their insights. Afterward, the two teacher candidates asked everyone to return to their chairs and used call-and-response to solicit their insights. Once they verbalized the catch-phrase, “We gon’ be alright,” their peers quickly picked up the rhythm and responded with answers, such as being a warm demander, respectfully engaging parents, and eradicating zero-tolerance policy. When the teaching session ended, I thanked the two teacher candidates and everyone else for their support and participation. In essence, coteaching fostered a hip-hop pedagogical flow and broke down the hierarchy between teacher candidates and instructors.

Authentic Storytelling

A central element of hip-hop pedagogy is using authentic storytelling to spark critical dialogues between students and teachers. Hence, I often related my stories to course content to initiate critical conversations with teacher candidates. For example, when discussing Educating the Whole Child (Pang, 1998), I explained how the model minority myth prevents Asian ancestry people from being seen as full human beings. I then shared that a former White female colleague commented, “Congratulations! You’re a model minority now,” when I received one of the most prestigious awards from the institution where I earned my doctorate. This story encouraged the class to see that Asian ancestry people have to deal with racial discrimination in the United States regardless of their achievement.

I also motivated teacher candidates to practice storytelling in teaching. After reading case studies on educating ethnically diverse Asian American students, teacher candidates were paired in groups to create a 10-15-minute story to present their reading. After all the presentations, I asked everyone to reflect on using storytelling in teaching. One White male teacher candidate shared, “By studying the Hmong American teacher in Chang and Rosiek (2003) and practicing storytelling, I understand how sharing my stories with the students can create a critical learning community.” Another White female teacher candidate observed, “Creating a story based on Pham and Lee (2014) helps me see how writing critical stories can heal Cambodian American students’ war-related trauma and reclaim their identities and agencies.”

Another way I incorporated storytelling in practice was through a “critical family history” project (Sleeter, 2016). I asked teacher candidates to use critical race theory (Ladson-Billings & Tate, 1995) as the framework to interview a family member and analyze the interviewee’s experiences of white supremacy culture in U.S. K–12 schools and perception of race relations in U.S. society. This project helped many teacher candidates converse with their families critically and embrace a vision of justice-oriented teaching. One White female teacher candidate wrote:

I had an ‘aha’ moment while analyzing the interview of my mother. Like many White people, my mother was unaware of the invisible power she always has and downplayed aspects of race that impacted her life. This knowledge gap needs to be addressed by making visible systems supporting White people and oppressing people of Color.

A male teacher candidate of Color described feeling

hurt when my brother became angry at the term white supremacy. To refuse the term is to turn away from its presence in our multigenerational experience. To use work ethic to explain systemic advantages our family may have benefited from, to put up a shield and insist that any barrier along the way is nothing more than self-imposed – it is to then turn a blind eye to those who are marginalized in ways both similar to and different from us.

Besides using storytelling in practice, hip-hop pedagogy entails sharing stories to heal personal wounds and engender empathy. When one White female teacher candidate told me that she needed to visit her dying grandfather, I assured her not to worry about her absence. Then I shared with her that one of my biggest regrets in life was not being able to say a final farewell to my maternal grandfather. As the course progressed, I continued to do emotional “check-ins” with this teacher candidate. In August 2020, I received a card from her saying:

I greatly appreciated how intentional you connected with your students and let each of us know that we were cared for. It meant so much to me that you would regularly ask me about my grandpa and share the story of your loss. You truly modeled how to be vulnerable and authentic. I will miss getting to be in your class.

Cultivating Joy

Hip-Hop pedagogs, like hip-hop artists, often creatively infuse song, dance, and other artistic expressions to cultivate contagious joy in teaching and learning and create a lasting bond between themselves and students. As suggested earlier, tackling racial injustices is an ethical responsibility for all teacher educators. However, this task can be emotionally taxing for teacher educators of Color. Thus, I often interject humor in class to lighten up serious discussions. For example, when examining the gentrification of the Central District in a metropolitan area in Washington State, I relayed the following observation since some teacher candidates frequent local Chinese restaurants, especially some fancy ones in this gentrified neighborhood, “Not all Chinese restaurants are created equal. Some are just not authentic by our Chinese standards. If you want to taste real Chinese food, ask for a traditional cuisine menu. If they don’t have one, then you’ll know.”

In another session, when teacher candidates discussed how many U.S. official holidays were based on European heritages, I nudged them to examine how this structure impacts people of Color by saying, “You know the Lunar New Year falls on our third class, which means I don’t get a break for the most important holiday to me! So, you’re required to celebrate it with me!”

Teacher candidates seemed to be responsive to my humor. At the beginning of the third class, they gave me a handmade red envelope with the Chinese character “happiness” written on it (Figure 1). The envelope contained many notes, one of which read, “In celebration of YOUR New Year, I support a paid day off of your choosing (with a smiling face).” Another note read, “Thank you for having the hard conversations with us in such a meaningful and humorous way! I hope our class has honored you properly with this gift.” Moved by this gesture, I said, “Thank you for your thoughtfulness and generosity! But this doesn’t mean that I will go easy on you.”

Figure 1. Red envelope for the Lunar New Year.

During the last class, I played Cupid Shuffle (Cupid, 2007) to get everyone dancing. As teacher candidates moved with the rhythm, I saw smiles on their faces. I also encouraged them to have fun and be creative with their presentation of jigsaw readings. One group enacted a mini play based on Wounded Healing (Hill, 2009). Another group wrote and performed the following poem on Rethinking Pedagogy in Urban Spaces (Adjapong & Emdin, 2015) in spoken word style:

Coteach baby, Coteach baby

All right stop

Collaborate and listen

We are here with a brand-new lesson

Something grabs ahold of students tightly

They need to learn both daily and nightly

Will it ever stop?

Yo, I don’t know

Call and response – they’ll know

To the extreme, they’ll rock STEM like Baker

Light up the stage and be a curriculum changer

Learn

Be the teacher that booms

Amplifying student voices every day in the classroom

Heavenly, when content is the melody

Anything less than my best is a felony

Love it; leave it

You better not stray

You better teach well

These kids don’t play

If there is a problem

They can solve it

Check out my hook as co-teacher revolves it

Coteach baby, Coteach baby

Coteach baby, Coteach baby

Amazed by their creativity, I shared a quote by Geneva Gay with teacher candidates as I concluded this course, “The thing I think I demonstrate is that teaching and learning can be a joyous venture, that you can have joy en route” [as cited in Ladson-Billings (2005, p. 94)]. The joy we generated extended beyond this course. When this cohort graduated in June 2020, I received an email from two biracial Asian American teacher candidates stating:

We wanted to say a big ‘THANK YOU’ for who you are, what you do for the world of multicultural education, and what you have done for and meant to us. You’ve helped us feel heard and seen in ways that don’t come often, and you inspire us in more ways than we can fit in this one message. It’s certainly been a challenging year, but we wouldn’t trade it for any other because of the bond formed here. With Love.

Pathways and Roadblocks

When introducing evolving pedagogical theories, I used popular cultural resources and asked teacher candidates to apply technology in interpreting and demonstrating what they were learning. This approach, similar to what Ladson-Billings (2017) articulated, resembled the tenet of staying fresh. I then built on this method by helping teacher candidates (re)discover their funds of knowledge and conceptualize how to teach ethnically diverse students in various ways. Although I did not use pedagogical techniques, such as mcing and cypher, as described by Cason (2018) and Rose (2018), the outcomes of my teaching were analogous. In other words, I practiced the sampling and mixing principle to expand teacher candidates’ funds of knowledge and make learning culturally relevant.

To continue developing teacher candidates’ hip-hop pedagogical repertoires, I followed Emdin’s (2016) suggestions and modeled coteaching, which empowered teacher candidates to take ownership of learning and challenge each other to grow. The tenet of authentic storytelling was seen as teacher candidates listened to and analyzed stories of their family members, which enhanced their critical consciousness of injustices in schools and society, resembling the results illustrated by Porfilio and Malott (2011). My own stories conveyed vulnerability and engendered empathy between teacher candidates and myself, indicating the healing potential of authentic storytelling described by Hanley (2007). Hence, my pedagogical enactments and creative assignments enriched current research on hip-hop pedagogy in teacher education.

Given the overall success described earlier, some teacher candidates resisted my efforts. One of them stated on the course evaluation, “As a White teacher, it felt really phony to use hip-hop pedagogy to connect with African American students. So, it’s not something that I would ever do with my students.” This teacher candidate failed to see that teaching is never just about the teacher, yet teacher educators must remember that these roadblocks should not deter them from building transformative pathways. Namely, resistance should never overshadow success. Although my study may not be generalizable due to the constraints of qualitative methods, it shows how other teacher educators can enact hip-hop pedagogy to create a lasting bond with many students and cultivate joy within and beyond the classroom, as Love (2015) suggested.

Envisioning Forward

The COVID-19 pandemic has exacerbated racial, economic, and health inequities in the United States. Many students, especially those of Color, may have lost shelter, food security, and family members. They also may not be able to participate in cultural rituals (e.g., funeral) due to quarantine guidelines. Moreover, many students of Color have been traumatized by the murder of George Floyd and the escalation of anti-Asian hate. Thus, the dual pandemics (COVID-19 and white supremacy) call for researchers to examine questions such as how can hip-hop pedagogy counter systemic racism and heal racialized trauma post-COVID-19? Why is it essential that teacher educators center joy and justice through hip-hop pedagogy post-COVID-19? These timely inquiries may illuminate the power of hip-hop pedagogy to validate the grief and rejoice the humanity of our most marginalized students.

As I transitioned to online teaching during the COVID-19 pandemic, I assigned teacher candidates graphic texts such as Holler if You Hear Me (Michie & Alexander-Tanner, 2020) and enticed them to use creative outlets (e.g., spoken word poetry, music) in class discussions. I hope these examples and others shared in this study illustrate that joy and justice in education do not have to be dichotomous, and hip-hop pedagogy can bridge them in teaching and learning. I also wrote this article as an invitation for teacher educator colleagues to dialogue how to improve our practices to help all teacher candidates promote joy and justice in their future classrooms post-COVID-19. In so doing, we can co-conspire to ensure that those who refuse to deconstruct their culturally deficit views or embrace asset-based pedagogies are “ushered out of the field of urban education” and “those who have come to build are equipped to do so” (Emdin, 2017, p. 486).

Acknowledgments

I appreciate T.J. and Paul for sharing their beautiful poem with me. I am grateful to Drs. Geneva Gay, Monica Taylor, Andrea Emerson, and the anonymous reviewers for their critical and generous feedback on earlier drafts of this article. Any remaining shortcomings are my own.