In the early 1980s, a highly percussive, cadenced, and repetitious musical form seeped from the inner city streets of the South Bronx to a virtually exclusive African-American audience. Harbingered by originators such as Run DMC, the Sugar Hill Gang, Public Enemy, Afrika Bambaata and others, the medium was a simple reflection of the daily lives of its creators with topics ranging from the trivial, such as the style of one’s new Adidas sneakers, to the significant, like the infuriation spurred by police harassment.

Rap music, as it came to be known, lacked major commercial support in its early stages, and, as a result, it was authentic and unaffected; it was truly “CNN for the streets,” as Chuck D once commented. Twenty years later, however, hip-hop culture has since flooded mainstream culture, and rap music is as prevalent in suburban homes as it once was in its native environment, moving from American subculture to the forefront of American attention. “Hip-hop is more powerful than any American cultural movement we've ever had,” said rap music impresario Russell Simmons.

Hip-hop is one of the fastest-growing music genres in the United States, accounting for $1.84 billion in sales last year out of a $14.3 billion total for the U.S. recording industry, according to industry statistics. Interestingly, nearly 70 percent of those sales are to white suburban youth, a striking transformation considering rap music’s beginnings. Most importantly, perhaps, rap music and its associated hip-hop culture have become a new component of the Black cultural aesthetic. With its rhythmical roots firmly planted in African tradition, hip-hop music is more than just musical expression. For some, it is a way of life, affecting their speech, style of dress, hairstyle, and overall disposition.

Like any other expressive art form, rappers have tested the boundaries of social responsibility, legality, free speech, and old fashioned “good taste.” Labeled as misogynistic, reckless, and even criminal, rappers endured years of public scrutiny with African Americans among some of their most relentless critics. After years of incessant scrutiny, hip-hop mogul Russell Simmons organized a three-day hip-hop music summit for 200 rappers, industry executives and African-American politicians, the first event of its kind. Sean Combs, LL Cool J, Queen Latifah, Wyclef Jean, Wu-Tang Clan, Chuck D, Jermaine Dupri, KRS-1, Luther Campbell, Ja Rule and Talib Kweli were just a few of the influential hip-hop artists in attendance at the conference held last June in New York City.

Stars joined forces with some of Black America’s intellectual and political elite, including NAACP President Kweisi Mfume, Urban League President Hugh Price, Nation of Islam Minister Louis Farrakhan; Martin Luther King, Jr., III, leader of the Southern Christian Leadership Council; Georgia Democratic Congressional Representative Cynthia McKinney; and authors Cornel West and Michael Eric Dyson. The summit ended with musicians and industry executives agreeing to follow voluntary guidelines to advise parents of music's lyrical content while vowing to protect rap artists’ freedom of speech by fighting Congressional efforts to censor the music. Minister Louis Farrakhan of the Nation of Islam, one of the political activists who attended the summit, told rappers, “You've now got to accept the responsibility you've never accepted. You are the leaders of the youth of the world.”

Today’s African-American college students, many of whom as youth were the original fans during rap music’s formative years, still remain avid rap music connoisseurs. Rap music, however, has taken a decidedly different direction in recent years. Since rap music is clearly a profitable commercial commodity, rappers consequently perpetuate images and stereotypes that will sell their products, ranging from the excessively violent to the extravagantly wealthy. “Many rappers do not live the type of lives they claim. Those that claim to be affluent often are not, and those that claim to be poor gang-bangers are often millionaires. Fortunately, most college students have the ability to decipher between rap’s glamorous image and the realities of life. A problem arises for the younger, impressionable audience, many of whom buy into rap’s surface image,” said Morehouse College Student Government Association President Christopher J. Graves.

As role models, acceptance of the designation or not, rappers have a unique responsibility to be cognizant of their message and their intended audience. Since American pop culture reveres stardom, rappers often garner more attention and respect than they deserve. Consequently, rap music and hip-hop culture have the power to either adversely or positively affect African Americans in specific, and the larger culture in general. While a summit on rap music cannot adequately address all of its dilemmas, a dialogue between interested parties must continue in order to preserve the distinctive art form, while protecting the rich heritage of the African-American cultural aesthetic.

Geoffrey Bennett is the editor in chief of “The Maroon Tiger” {college newspaper} at Morehouse College in Atlanta. He’s a senior English major from Voorhees, New Jersey, who will pursue a career in broadcast journalism after graduation.