Rap Lyrics on Trial
SHOULD rap lyrics be used in court as evidence of a crime?
ByERIK NIELSONandCHARIS E. KUBRINJAN. 13, 2014
·
Next week, the Supreme Court of New Jersey will hear a case that could help decide just that. At issue is a prosecutor’s extensive use of rap lyrics, composed by a man named Vonte Skinner, as evidence of his involvement in a 2005 shooting.
During Mr. Skinner’s trial in 2008, the prosecutor read the jury 13 pages of violent lyrics written by Mr. Skinner, even though all of the lyrics were composed before the shooting (in some cases, years before) and none of them mentioned the victim or specific details about the crime.
In keeping with rap’s “gangsta” subgenre, the lyrics read like an ode to violent street life, with lines like “In the hood, I am a threat / It’s written on my arm and signed in blood on my Tech” — a reference to a Tec-9 handgun. “I’m in love with you, death.”
The other evidence against Mr. Skinner was largely testimony from witnesses who changed their stories multiple times. And yet, the jury found him guilty of attempted murder, and he was sentenced to 30 years in prison.
But in 2012, the conviction was overturned by an appellate court thatruledthat the lyrics should never have been admitted as evidence. The majority opinion stated, “We have a significant doubt about whether the jurors would have found defendant guilty if they had not been required to listen to the extended reading of these disturbing and highly prejudicial lyrics.” The state appealed the ruling to the Supreme Court.
Mr. Skinner’s case is far from unique. Rap lyrics and videos are turning up as evidence in courtrooms across the country with alarming regularity. Last year, the American Civil Liberties Union of New Jerseyfoundthat in 18 cases in which various courts considered the admissibility of rap as evidence, the lyrics were allowed nearly 80 percent of the time.
As expert witnesses who have testified in such cases, we have observed firsthand how prosecutors misrepresent rap music to judges and juries, who rarely understand the genre conventions of gangsta rap or the industry forces that drive aspiring rappers to adopt this style. One common tactic is to present a defendant’s raps as autobiography. Even when defendants use a stage name to signal their creation of a fictional first-person narrator, rap about exploits that are exaggerated to the point of absurdity, and make use of figurative language, prosecutors will insist that the lyrics are effectively rhymed confessions. No other form of fictional expression is exploited this way in the courts.
Admittedly, the complex and creative manipulation of identity in rap helps account for its treatment in court. Nobody believes that Johnny Cash shot a man in Reno or that Bret Easton Ellis carried out the gory murders described in “American Psycho”; neither artist claimed that he was writing autobiographically. That’s not always the case with rappers. Many remain in character long after they leave the recording studio, trying to establish their authenticity by convincing listeners that they live the lives they rap about. Those familiar with the genre understand that this posturing is often nothing more than a marketing pose.
But for the uninitiated, it is easy to conflate these artists with their art. It becomes easier still when that art reinforces stereotypes about young men of color — who are almost exclusively the defendants in these cases — as violent, hypersexual and dangerous. If that’s what jurors see, what are the chances for a fair trial?
To address this question, Stuart Fischoff, a psychologist at California State University, Los Angeles, conducted astudyin the late 1990s to measure the impact of gangsta rap lyrics on juries. Participants were given basic biographical information about a hypothetical 18-year-old black male, but only some were shown a set of his violent, sexually explicit rap lyrics. Those who read the lyrics were significantly more likely to believe the man was capable of committing a murder than those who did not.
More than a decade later, this bias appears to persist, leaving rap music as vulnerable as ever to judicial abuse. Although appellate courts in Massachusetts and Maryland have recently reversed convictions after citing prosecutors for their improper use of rap lyrics or videos as evidence, most similar appeals are unsuccessful. Just this summer the Supreme Court of Nevada upheld the admissibility of rap lyrics as evidence in a first-degree murder case. A definitive ruling by the Supreme Court of New Jersey rejecting this use of rap music could help turn the tide.
In anticipation of Mr. Skinner’s case, the American Civil Liberties Union of New Jersey filed an amicus brief arguing that rap lyrics, however unsavory they might be, are “artistic expressions entitled to constitutional protection.” For scholars and fans of hip-hop, this is a statement of the obvious. In today’s court system, sadly, it is not.
Erik Nielsonis an assistant professor of liberal arts at the University of Richmond.Charis E. Kubrinis an associate professor of criminology, law and society at the University of California, Irvine.
A version of this op-ed appears in print on January 14, 2014, on page A27 of theNew York editionwith the headline: Rap Lyrics on Trial.
http://www.nytimes.com/2014/01/14/opinion/rap-lyrics-on-trial.html
What College Applications Shouldn’t Ask
ByTHE EDITORIAL BOARD
MAY 23, 2015
Over the last several years, the federal government has been pushing school districts across the country to dial back disciplinary policies under which children are suspended for minor misbehavior that once would have been dealt with in a meeting with parents or though minor sanctions like detention. These“zero tolerance” policiesmake it more likely that children will drop out, and they are especially damaging to minority students, who are disproportionately subjected to suspension, expulsion or even arrest for nonviolent offenses. Now, colleges that penalize applicants for high school disciplinary records should change their policies as well.
The problem is underscored in an alarming new study by the Center for Community Alternatives, a nonprofit group that focuses on alternatives to incarceration. The study traces the problem to questions on the Common Application, which is used by some 500 colleges and universities. The applicant is asked about his or her disciplinary history, and the high school is asked whether the applicant committed disciplinary violations from ninth grade on that led to probation, suspension, removal, dismissal or expulsion.
During the 1990s, schools began as a matter of course to criminalize adolescent misbehavior — reclassifying mere shoving matches as acts of “extreme” violence and throwing students out for cursing. The notion of penalizing college applicants for minor misbehavior when they were 14 or 15, when a child’s impulse control is notoriously weak, is unfair on its face. It is even less defensible when you consider that suspension policies are applied arbitrarily and in a racially discriminatory way. “Disruptive behavior” often means talking back to a teacher. And in some places, weapons possession is seen as “not at all violent” while shoving matches are viewed as “extremely violent.” Depending on where a student lives, firecrackers or toy guns can get the student suspended for “weapons possession.”
Colleges that use the disciplinary information in admissions often make matters worse by doing so haphazardly. According to the study, only about a quarter of the 408 colleges that responded to the survey have formal written policies on how the data should be interpreted — and only about a third have trained their admissions staff in how to interpret disciplinary violations. These shortcomings mean that at least some students can be unnecessarily rejected for innocuous violations. And those who are admitted despite violations can be barred from living on campus, placed on probation and so on.
Disciplinary data is junk information that can hurt students while doing nothing to meaningfully distinguish them from other applicants. Clearly, many schools realize that. About half the 1,360 high schools that answered the survey had chosen not to disclose the information. Of course, this means applicants from districts that do share the information can be penalized merely because of where they live.
Given the inherent unfairness of this system, school districts should adopt a policy of withholding disciplinary information, and colleges should refrain from using any such information in admissions decisions.
A version of this editorial appears in print on May 24, 2015, on page SR8 of theNew York editionwith the headline: What College Applications Shouldn’t Ask.Today's Paper|Subscribe
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/05/24/opinion/sunday/what-college-applications-shouldnt-ask.html