Note from BW of Brazil: “Why do we need empowerment for black women? Shouldn’t we just have empowerment for ALL women? After all, ALL women are oppressed by a sexist system. You’re being divisive!” This is the sort of comment I would expect from someone reading the title of this article and doesn’t understand the system of white supremacy. It is the same discussion that happens within feminist circles when black women attempt to merge with white women only to discover that most white women don’t understand that even as they although they are victims of sexist system, they don’t see their racial privilege, and as such, ignore demands made by black women. White women can’t/won’t see that they are the standard of beauty constantly upheld on magazine covers and beauty contests, are placed on a pedestal when men (of all races) seek lifelong partners and, for many, represent the ideal mother figure. No one will say to a a white woman politician that she looks like someone who serves coffee because it is the black women who most Brazilians associate with housework and service.
These are but a few of the reasons that so many are calling for the empowerment of black women. Empowerment in politics. Empowerment in entrepreneurialism. Empowerment the production of films. Empowerment through music. This last genre is what the artist featured in today’s post is all about. Through her message, her image and her discourse, she wants to encourage millions of black women to empower themselves in Brazilian society and let the world know that black women can do anything that any other group of women can do given the opportunity.
Tamara Franklin renovates rap and presents her discourse in defense of black women
Incorporating styles such as baião, African beats and reggae, she is one of the prominent performers on the Minas Gerais hip-hop scene
By Shirley Pacelli
‘If 2015 was the year of women, in 2016 will be even heavier,’ predicts Tamara Franklin
“Turbante coroa/felina leoa/ tambores de Gana/ dona da savana.”
“Turban crown/feline lioness/ drums from Ghana/owner of the Savannah.”
With a strong feminist discourse and especially in defense of the black woman, the track “Vem e vê” (Come and see) is only one of the “gems” of Anônima, the debut album of rapper Tamara Franklin, from Ribeirão das Neves. The CD, which was pre-released in December, on Matrix, is already on sale online.
At 24, Tamara is a promising name on the Minas Gerais hip-hop scene, which has been dominated by talented women as Zaika dos Santos, Bárbara Sweet and Clara Lima. Tamara’s contact with music was made at the age of 8 years in a church in her community. The congregation, led by a woman developed works related to the periphery. It was a sermon on the importance of the unsung heroes of history that came the name of the CD title track (meaning anonymous) – a project that is far from being labeled as gospel.
Very much connected to racial issues, Tamara soon made connection with women who accomplished something significant and didn’t have their names registered in so-called “official” history such as Aqualtune, queen of the Congo who led an army in Africa and in Brazil – as a slave – she was grandmother of Zumbi dos Palmares. “My sound represents so many other anonymous who don’t have a space and voice to speak,” says the rapper.
“Anônima” opens the disc and soon surprises by the sound of fifes (flutes). The basis of the sample was made from the song “Baião destemperado”, from the CD Corpo do som (2002), by Barbatuques, the instrumental group from São Paulo. The flow is tight and the beat invites you to dance. Produced by Easy CDA, of Xeque Mate Produções, the album has 11 tracks that mix the classic beats of rap with reggae, samba, cânticos afros (African songs) and even the sound of fifes.
The lyrics are pure social criticism and cover topics like the beauty of black women, ostentation and racial prejudice. “The CD speaks of what I saw, I think and I see within my context and of my era in a timeline that I know exists,” explains Tamara.
From Baião to reggae. “Hey Jah” features the participation of Gordão, of the Uai Sound System, Look and Simimi Ni Moyo, a rapper from Luanda (Angola). The pop tune “A alma nos une” features the participation of Mozambicans Adriana Chyale and Pisco Mazuze, and Black W, of the Morro das Pedras. Tamara says that she has the habit of looking for the work of independent African artists. “We started talking and created this connection,” she says.
A special partnership and probably the most touching track on the disc is “Mãe preta”, meaning ‘black mother’. The 1954 tune is by the famous sambistas gauchos (samba musicians from Rio Grande do Sul) Piratini and Caco Velho.
“Era assim que mãe preta fazia/ criava todo o branco com muita alegria/ Porém, lá na senzala o seu pretinho apanhava/ Mãe preta mais uma lágrima enxugava.”
“This is how the black mother did it/raised all the whites with a lot of joy/However, there in the slave quarters your little black boy you beat/Black mother wiped another tear.”
Tamara shares the verses with her father, Mark Franklin, who sang the song to her and her sisters.
“It’s the music that most moves me, it has a very strong message. It changes me. In the pre-release of the CD, my father took the stage with me. Destabilized me. I held back tears. And he has that thing of passing on calm, wisdom,” says Tamara. The patriarch is also the voice that opens the CD. “It’s to bless the work,” says Tamara.
“Maravilhosamente simples” brings a sample of “Saudosa maloca”, a 1955 composition of (old school sambista) Adoniran Barbosa. “Tipicamente brasileiro”, that closes the disc also starts with samba and is another strength of the project. “This completely escaped from my writing process. I hear a beat and I always write on top of an instrumental. This I woke up with the chorus. ‘‘Quer me chatear fala do meu cabelo/Quer me chatear fala dos meus parceiros’ (‘You want to piss me off talking about my hair/You want to piss me off talking about my partners’). My friend Look dared me to do an all-rhythmic rap. I accepted and it worked,” says the rapper. The chorus, as she herself assumes, is one of those that sticks and spends the whole day in your head.
For Tamara, nothing is a rule in hip-hop: “Some people don’t like this dialogue of rap with other styles, others propose even bolder steps. It has to do with the own influences themselves,” concluded Tamara.
“Na Pele”“Mais uma preta marrenta, vinda das ruas barrentas” (Another hard-headed black woman, coming from the muddy streets). From the lyrics of Anônima comes the urgency of discussing the struggle of black women. Tamara suffered everything na pele (up close). “We’re ugly, smelly, hair ‘like this’. I grew up seeing white women as the great icons of beauty and hearing that I was a macaca (monkey),” she says.
The singer recalls that the black woman is permanently harassed by the society, that doesn’t see her as good enough for a relationship or position, but promotes the hyper-sexualization of her body. “Besides this, most are single mothers who have to take care of everything at home. She who buries her son. Most of the dead youths are black. It is she who will be abused in clinical when she has the baby. The highest rate of femicide and domestic violence are among us,” adds Tamara.
Thus, the rapper sees the importance of preaching the empowerment of black women with her music. And the project has been effective. It has become common girls, having pride in their black powers (afros), send to her videos singing “Tipicamente brasileiro”. “The best weapon we have against this prejudice is to recognizing oneself as capable and beautiful. I’m black and this does not make me less than anyone else,” she says.
Recently, Tamara rehearsed “Maria da Vila Matilde”, of the acclaimed disc A mulher do fim do mundo, by Elza Soares, and is considering adopting it in the repertoire of her shows. “You think she has done everything marvelous and there’s no way to pass it. Then she brings more strength, messages and discussions. She transcends any explanation. It’s the best campaign against violence against women I’ve ever seen. And she did it in a light way, with all her energy,” she praises.
In her performances, Tamara sings “A mulher do fim do mundo” (woman of the end of the world), including the chorus of “Cilada” by the Minas Gerais rapper Sarah Guedes.
Tamara Franklin – Tipicamente Brasileiro
“Eu não sou mulher para você mesmo não/Moleque não merece tanto assim na mão/ Deus foi generoso até mesmo para Adão/Pra uma costela eu lombro seu caminhão.”
“I am not a woman for yourself no/Little boy you don’t deserve so much in your hand/God was really generous to Adam/For a rib I mess up your truck.”
Elza and Sarah are artists that I think are fantastic. I’m not ignoring the path of each of them, they are two strong women. I wanted to honor them,” explains Tamara.
Tamara Franklin – Anônima
Sarah Guedes is only one of rappers with which she has “closed” currently. Zaika dos Santos, Lana Black, Polly Honorato, Page, Brisa Flow and Bárbara Sweet became references for the singer. “I came into rap surrounded by men. For a long time, I absorbed the macho discourse. I swallowed it without knowing what it was. Let it naturalize inside of me – outside I already know what it is,” she says.
She recalls that the second edition of the Semana Hip-Hop Alto Vera Cruz (Alto Vera Cruz Hip Hop Week), held in November and led by women, was boycotted by many rap men of Belo Horizonte. “I think the women’s scene here tends to grow. We are organizing ourselves for this. I saw something beautiful between us: a little something has been set aside to support each other. If 2015 was the year of women, 2016 will be even heavier,” she warns.
Source: Divirta Se