Plot Summary
We Gon' Be Alright
Jeff Chang
We Gon' Be Alright
Nonfiction | Book | Adult | Published in 2016
Plot Summary
We Gon’ Be Alright, a collection of essays by American author, journalist, and music critic Jeff Chang, chronicles the roots of the hip-hop movement in America, examining the musical genres’ entanglements with issues of race, identity, and diversity; particularly, the omnipresent but often ignored specter of whiteness that pervades American politics and social relations. Chang is skeptical about our modern conceptions of terms like “diversity,” believing they are often used to obfuscate systemic inequality and ideological oppression. He bases his analysis on a number of key recent national moments, such as the Ferguson shooting, showing how these moments are cultural touchpoints, echoing across media and time, either serving or undermining different power structures.
Many of Chang’s essays involve the core argument that inequality is bad for all who are entrenched in it. In “Is Diversity for White People?”, he attempts to prove this notion, arguing that “diversity” includes within its boundary the set of all non-white people; that is, it necessarily excludes white people. Because whiteness is the key perpetrator of inequality, all this arrangement does is reinforce its power, enlisting the “other” in groveling perpetually for more agency. His second essay, “What a Time to be Alive,” examines student protests and free speech, arguing that, while free speech should be protected, the costs of America’s tolerance of hate speech gives it an unnecessary platform that disproportionately hurts marginalized people who already lack a voice and forum. He terms this rhetorical process “resegregation,” since it encloses the marginalized in self-protective enclaves.
In another essay, “The Odds,” Chang comments on cultural equality. He criticizes the state of the entertainment industry in America, arguing that it is not enough that Hollywood is run by white, liberal people (many of them elite). It is a fallacy, he states, that we privilege their power over the untold stories of the marginalized. In his view, anyone should be able to control art, entertainment, and other media. In “Hands Up,” Chang excoriates the national reaction to the Ferguson tragedy, in which Michael Brown, an innocent young man was executed by a white policeman. He follows the dubious investigation and the protests that erupted in its aftermath, which attempted to make intelligible the fact that Brown’s friends, family, and neighbors had seen him brutally killed without any adequate recourse. Immediately after the shooting, the police force seized the streets, the scene of the crime, signaling their instinctual attempt to occupy and control the emerging rhetorical space. He condemns them for treating Brown’s death as a political prop used in a performance.
In “The In-Betweens,” Chang comments on the unique experience of being an Asian American. He looks at a few “in-between” writers, among them Jessica Hagedorn, George Helm, and Gloria Anzaldua, exploring how their intersectional identities informed their life’s work. He argues that identity can be both a tool and a site of sanctuary: for example, in wartime, the battlefields of Hawaii, upon which the indigenous peoples waged war, had pu’uhonua, sacred sites where combat was prohibited in order to permit rest and absolution. This place was considered “in-between” human and god, signifying the Hawaiian people’s respect for finding spiritual refuge even in the harshest times. Nevertheless, these spots only afforded temporary absolution: built into their rhetoric was the implication that one must always reemerge into, reckon with, and ultimately re-earn, participation in a peaceful world.
Chang’s final essay, “The Making of Lemonade,” is a response to an essay by Carrie Mae Weems about the concept of grace. He argues that the process of achieving grace is different for everyone, and touches on one’s social world. He defines grace as being able to constantly refresh one’s self-perceived position in the world, breaking down mistruths and aggressions that separate us.
Chang ends with an exhortation to wake up to the constant presence of inequity in our homeland, including its justice system, public places, schools, and families. Ultimately, he frames the process of stopping resegregation as both a daunting social necessity and a vocation that is profoundly liberating.
Many of Chang’s essays involve the core argument that inequality is bad for all who are entrenched in it. In “Is Diversity for White People?”, he attempts to prove this notion, arguing that “diversity” includes within its boundary the set of all non-white people; that is, it necessarily excludes white people. Because whiteness is the key perpetrator of inequality, all this arrangement does is reinforce its power, enlisting the “other” in groveling perpetually for more agency. His second essay, “What a Time to be Alive,” examines student protests and free speech, arguing that, while free speech should be protected, the costs of America’s tolerance of hate speech gives it an unnecessary platform that disproportionately hurts marginalized people who already lack a voice and forum. He terms this rhetorical process “resegregation,” since it encloses the marginalized in self-protective enclaves.
In another essay, “The Odds,” Chang comments on cultural equality. He criticizes the state of the entertainment industry in America, arguing that it is not enough that Hollywood is run by white, liberal people (many of them elite). It is a fallacy, he states, that we privilege their power over the untold stories of the marginalized. In his view, anyone should be able to control art, entertainment, and other media. In “Hands Up,” Chang excoriates the national reaction to the Ferguson tragedy, in which Michael Brown, an innocent young man was executed by a white policeman. He follows the dubious investigation and the protests that erupted in its aftermath, which attempted to make intelligible the fact that Brown’s friends, family, and neighbors had seen him brutally killed without any adequate recourse. Immediately after the shooting, the police force seized the streets, the scene of the crime, signaling their instinctual attempt to occupy and control the emerging rhetorical space. He condemns them for treating Brown’s death as a political prop used in a performance.
In “The In-Betweens,” Chang comments on the unique experience of being an Asian American. He looks at a few “in-between” writers, among them Jessica Hagedorn, George Helm, and Gloria Anzaldua, exploring how their intersectional identities informed their life’s work. He argues that identity can be both a tool and a site of sanctuary: for example, in wartime, the battlefields of Hawaii, upon which the indigenous peoples waged war, had pu’uhonua, sacred sites where combat was prohibited in order to permit rest and absolution. This place was considered “in-between” human and god, signifying the Hawaiian people’s respect for finding spiritual refuge even in the harshest times. Nevertheless, these spots only afforded temporary absolution: built into their rhetoric was the implication that one must always reemerge into, reckon with, and ultimately re-earn, participation in a peaceful world.
Chang’s final essay, “The Making of Lemonade,” is a response to an essay by Carrie Mae Weems about the concept of grace. He argues that the process of achieving grace is different for everyone, and touches on one’s social world. He defines grace as being able to constantly refresh one’s self-perceived position in the world, breaking down mistruths and aggressions that separate us.
Chang ends with an exhortation to wake up to the constant presence of inequity in our homeland, including its justice system, public places, schools, and families. Ultimately, he frames the process of stopping resegregation as both a daunting social necessity and a vocation that is profoundly liberating.