
Nadja Johnson, Javier Wallace, M. Yvonne Taylor
Season 12 Episode 2 | 27m 22sVideo has Closed Captions
90s rap dreams, sports trafficking, and the power of outsider identities.
This episode explores diverse narratives and perspectives. Johnson reflects on her childhood dreams of becoming a rapper in the 90s and how this aspiration shaped her life and self-expression. Wallace addresses the complex issue of sports trafficking of student-athletes. Taylor discusses how being an outsider can provide valuable insights and unique abilities, turning challenges into strengths.
Blackademics TV is a local public television program presented by Austin PBS

Nadja Johnson, Javier Wallace, M. Yvonne Taylor
Season 12 Episode 2 | 27m 22sVideo has Closed Captions
This episode explores diverse narratives and perspectives. Johnson reflects on her childhood dreams of becoming a rapper in the 90s and how this aspiration shaped her life and self-expression. Wallace addresses the complex issue of sports trafficking of student-athletes. Taylor discusses how being an outsider can provide valuable insights and unique abilities, turning challenges into strengths.
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Learn Moreabout PBS online sponsorship- Over the next few moments, I'm gonna share with you some of my thoughts from back in the day and also some of my flows.
But I'll tell you ahead of time where I'm going with this.
These things from my past are so important, because they inform who I am today.
- How did we get here?
I literally, sat there and wondered, how did we get here?
How do we end up in a pro bono immigrations lawyer's office somewhere in Austin, teetering between illegality and chasing a hoop dream?
He came here to play basketball.
He didn't come here to be illegal.
- This is an all-hands-on-deck moment.
We need the ideas, the voices, and the leadership of those whose stories and insights are different from the status quo.
(gentle music) - On Christmas Day, 2021, my children surprised me with a gift that highlighted exactly how they see me as a mom.
After getting all the paper off the box, I saw the gift.
"Oh, my God, you got me Jodeci boots?"
My children who were happy were also confused.
"No, Mom, these are Doc Martens."
"Doc who?"
"Doc Martens, the boots you told us you wanted when you were younger."
"Oh!
No, these are Jodeci boots."
Hello, everyone, my name is Nodja and I'm the epitome of a '90s teenager.
I grew up in Detroit, and when my sister and brother were the scholars of the family, I was more so focused on becoming a famous rapper, soaking up the culture, and making it on MTV.
Oh, and by the way, if you're wondering who that group is behind me plastered on the wall, that's Jodeci and they're wearing Jodeci boots.
(audience laughing) During this time, I was in constant search of my identity, sampling the personas of all the rappers I was obsessed with.
Over the next few moments, I'm gonna share with you some of my thoughts from back in the day and also some of my flows.
But I'll tell you ahead of time where I'm going with this.
These things from my past are so important, because they inform who I am today.
Let's take it back to the early '90s, my Kris Kross era.
(audience laughing) That's me and my cousin, Kesha, she was my real dog.
She and I competed in local talent competitions as the rap duo Lyrical Assassins.
Now, in the earlier days, my rap sounded like this.
♪ The only female in your crew to rock a mic like this ♪ ♪ And I'm destined to be ♪ ♪ The lyrical assassin of this business ♪ ♪ Don't you dis ♪ ♪ I got your minds trippin' off the words of a miss ♪ ♪ But pay attention, as I mentioned ♪ ♪ How I flow on and so on ♪ ♪ Until you suckers go home ♪ ♪ That's when I get my stroll on ♪ (audience cheering) (audience applauding) My rap name was Ziploc.
(audience laughing) I actually have a Lyrical Assassins cassette tape.
Now you see how hardcore we are, right?
But when you take the photo out the case, (audience laughing) that is my dad in the middle.
Yes, my dad was also my manager.
Now, when high school started, that's when I entered my thug era, also known as my Bone Thugs-N-Harmony era.
(audience cheering) Now, here's the 101 about Bone, their lyrics were really dark.
There's a lot of tongue twisting and a lot of murdering.
So in result of that, my rhymes sounded like this.
♪ Had a rough and crazy night ♪ ♪ But, yo, I still got my health ♪ ♪ I thought I was resting that piece in my sleep ♪ ♪ For them nightmares killing myself ♪ ♪ My day has started like this ♪ ♪ Ziploc woke up and I was pissed ♪ ♪ I gave my sawed off a hug ♪ ♪ And it was the night that I kissed ♪ (audience cheering) Keep in mind, my dad moved us to one of the nicest neighborhoods in Detroit.
(audience laughing) I always had what I wanted, I got everything, but I felt like a thug because of the music that I listened to and the movies that I watched.
By the time we hit the later years of the decade, one of the biggest things to hit Detroit happened.
Can somebody name an artist that came out of Detroit in the late '90s?
Now wait, before you say Sada Baby or Tee Grizzley or Big Sean, we're talking about the '90s.
Can somebody name a rapper from the '90s from Detroit?
- [Audience Member] Eminem.
- That's right, I entered my Eminem era of rap.
(audience laughing) ♪ I'm about the nuttiest female ♪ ♪ That you'll be hearing or seeing ♪ ♪ And meeting me I guess it means that ♪ ♪ You'll no longer be breathing ♪ ♪ Some say I'm crazy, like what ♪ ♪ Some seem to think I'm demented ♪ ♪ I was enrolled in charm school ♪ ♪ But I never did finish ♪ ♪ Society of a menace ♪ ♪ I'm hopping in your Range Rover ♪ ♪ Make you get out, hit reverse and run you over ♪ ♪ On the kamikaze mission, no playing ♪ ♪ Now, here's the plan ♪ ♪ We'll drive off a bridge ♪ ♪ You'll be Dido and I'll be Stan ♪ (audience cheering) Now, the more rhymes I wrote, the more frustrated I became with the fact I was not making it as a rapper.
You know, Eminem tapped into a little bit of that depressing energy, so I tapped into that energy myself.
♪ Look at me, I'm just a hot mess ♪ ♪ You see the S on my chest ♪ ♪ It's capital and it stands for stress ♪ ♪ Take my book of flows, take all my pens ♪ ♪ Take my CDs before I snap ♪ ♪ Take all this crap, ♪ ♪ I'm sick of rap, I can't adapt ♪ ♪ Everything I'm spitting is whack ♪ ♪ God gave me this talent ♪ ♪ But I wish he would take it back ♪ ♪ Stop the beat or something ♪ ♪ Somebody pull me off this song ♪ ♪ Yank me out the booth ♪ ♪ Walk me to my car, send me home ♪ ♪ Rap ain't never made me money ♪ ♪ I never played a venue ♪ ♪ I'm tired of ordering crap off the 99 cent menu ♪ - [Audience Member] Yeah!
- But it wasn't all bad.
I'm proud to say the '80s and '90s raised me, and I don't have to join any kind of political or social group to prove my worth 'cause Queen Latifah told me in 1989 that ladies are first.
- [Audience] Yeah!
- So now I'm 19 years old and I feel a need to get closer to the fame and fortune, so I headed for New York, specifically, I went to stand outside of MTV's "TRL".
I figured if I got on MTV, I could meet Eminem and I could rap.
I stood outside all day, no one asked me to rap, but my picture caught the attention of the cameraman and I actually did end up making it on MTV.
Thinking about it.
It seems important to pay attention to what you consume.
Queen Latifah told me, "Ladies first,' Eminem had some dark energy, but also playful flows.
And later on, even some conscious lyrics.
Now Kriss Kross, I really don't know what Kriss Kross had going on, but I will tell you, they encouraged a lot of my raps when I first began.
The '90s were a cultural powerhouse, especially for black teenage girls like myself.
They provided a platform for diverse voices, empowering individuals through lyrics that spoke to social issues, identity and resilience.
Artists like TLC, Lauryn Hill broke barriers, offering relatable narratives that resonated.
The music was more than just beats, it was a reflection of the times, fostering pride and unity within the black community.
As a mom, I still love music.
I'm the playful mom, encouraging my kids' own self expression.
I'm appreciative of their youth culture.
I'm the mom who recognizes life challenges, I'm the black mom who lives and love our culture.
Pulling up to the school drop off line, bumping my '90s music, (audience laughing) always having my kids say, "Mom, have you ever heard of Wu-Tang?
(audience laughing) Mom, do you know who 3-6 Mafia is?"
'90s hip hop is like an ex-boyfriend I can't get over.
(audience laughing) Others have come and gone, but they just don't compare.
'90s hip hop is a part of my mental diet, and that diet helped determine who I am today.
Oh, and by the way, as it turns out, I didn't even need MTV to meet Eminem.
Check out this actual diary entry that I wrote back in March, 2001.
"Dear Diary, today was one of the best nights of my life.
The Lord blessed me and allowed me to meet Eminem.
(audience laughing) It finally happened, E was so nice to me.
He was like, 'What up?
I'm Eminem.'
He was like, 'What's wrong?
I'm only trying to touch your hand.'
I was too shy, and my friend was like, 'Oh, give her a hug.'
And that's when it happened.
I cried right on Eminem's shoulder.
He was feeling me too hard, anyway.
(audience laughing) Anyway, by the end of the night, I got a picture with him.
Thank you, God."
I made 1,000 copies of this photo.
(audience laughing) It was all over my journal, I put it in a CD case, I even put it in a snow globe.
(audience laughing) And my 15 minutes of fame, I got that too.
Like so many other Detroiters, I was an extra in the movie "8 Mile".
And my 15 minutes of fame is permanently cemented on the back of the DVD cover.
Now you have to pay attention.
You gotta look close.
(audience laughing) But I'm there.
(audience laughing) Over the years, I stopped rapping, but whenever my son needs a poem or something for school, he comes to the Ziploc.
My friends from high school, when they see me, they ask me, "Nodja, do you still rap?"
Well.
♪ Pardon my face 'cause you can see I'm not excited ♪ ♪ But I couldn't put the pen down, even though I tried it ♪ ♪ Ask me if I rap and I always lie about it ♪ ♪ But I really missed the rap game ♪ ♪ I thought that I could hide it ♪ So now you know my passion.
What's yours?
Be careful, this stuff you do now, it'll last a lifetime.
Thank you.
(audience applauding) (audience cheering) (gentle music) - "It's not a matter if he'll be stopped by the police, it's a matter of when he'll be stopped by the police, he's black."
I knew she wasn't lying, I'm black, I'm a man, I've been stopped by the police, yet it wasn't my decision to make.
He simply said, (speaking in Spanish).
How did we get here?
I literally sat there and wondered, how did we get here?
How did we end up in a pro bono immigrations lawyer's office somewhere in Austin, teetering between illegality and chasing a hoop dream?
He came here to play basketball, he didn't come here to be illegal.
He came here to play basketball and improve his life.
He is Tito.
Tito is a young person from Panama that came to the United States to play high school basketball and found himself at the center of basketball trafficking.
He was like the unknown number of young people that entered the US annually on the F1 student visas with the hopes of playing high school basketball and eventually making it to the pros.
They're chasing their American hoop dreams, but some of them get caught up in the exploitative and unregulated migration of youth within interscholastic international athletic migration to the US, which in many instances, begins with the F1 student visa.
After leaving Panama for the US, a little over one year prior to us seated in the attorney's office going through his future options, Tito had received a scholarship from a school here in the country and he played there and he stayed there for about three months before they kicked him out and they removed his visa and scholarship.
The coach kicked him out because he said he was failing his classes, but that wasn't the reality.
In the cross-country phone conversation I organized between Tito's coach, his mother and myself, the coach lashed out and he revealed why he kicked Tito out.
He screamed, "You sent me a damaged player!
He has a bad knee from Panama and you want me to pay for the surgery."
All of these things were untrue.
But the truth was he wasn't happy with Tito's basketball performance and he used his academic performance or failing grades as the basis for removing his scholarship because that's what the F1 student visa gages, As, Bs, Cs, Ds and Fs, not three point shots or a number of assists made per game.
When he finalized Tito's removal, Tito came to Austin and he lived with me and my family while attending a local public high school.
Before his arrival to Austin as things were going bad, in his new school here in Texas, I only had Google to turn to.
I turned into Google to search keywords, such as basketball, visa, visa removal, and I encountered news stories from across the US featuring kids from across the globe, but mainly from the global south.
They were in situations very similar to Tito's.
And from there, I started to flesh out basketball trafficking.
Tito, he's like the seemingly never-ending amount of hopefuls the NBA is attempting to reach, to exploit their desires of moving beyond their borders to play basketball in the US and around the world.
I mean, all you have to do is turn on your TV to an NBA game and you'll see.
But you probably won't recognize the over 25% of the league's players that are actually international.
I mean, literally the biggest name in Texas right now in basketball is the French sensation, Wemby, playing for the San Antonio Spurs.
And the reason why I say you probably won't notice them by just turning on your TV is because, just like Wemby, many of these players are black or African descended.
They blend in very well with the majority of black American players that have dominated NBA rosters since the 1970s.
Basketball is a black sport and basketball has gone global.
What with the global rise of the sport and the NBA being the pinnacle of the game, on the men's side, it has impacted every level of the sport because NBA players usually come from college and college players usually come from high school, that is the most consistent pathway to the NBA is through the NCAA intercollegiate basketball system based in the United States.
Players like Tito from Panama that desire to come to the US to play basketball must do so at the high school level if they want to increase their chances of getting to college.
Why, you might be asking?
Well, one, Panama doesn't have the necessary basketball infrastructure to play consistently against high level competition.
And equally important is because of English.
Panamanian youth like Tito who haven't been educated in English, have to deal with the NCAA's eligibility and clearinghouse and their member institutions admission's English requirements.
I mean, how would he gain admissions to a US College if he didn't speak English?
How would he be able to score well enough on the TOEFL test before coming to the US?
Going to high school in the US at an earlier age is better because hopefully they will learn enough English to get a decent score on a standardized test.
Or even better, graduating from a US high school at least demonstrates that the student is proficient enough in English to gain admissions to a university without having to take the TOEFL exam.
When youth are compelled to migrate to the US younger for earlier access to US education and to become bonafide student athletes, they enter a space that is unregulated and money is passed around.
They are placed in vulnerable situations and can lead to their exploitation through their student visa status, which the US made for education, not necessarily a multi-billion dollar youth sport industry that is rife with corruption and problems.
So if things go wrong for these young people, their precarious student visa status can be used as a controlling tool.
The F1 student visa and international athletes' issues are way bigger than just their inability to benefit from name, image and likeness or NIL.
There are bad actors, like the late Evelyn Mack of the Evelyn Mack Academy in North Carolina that was processing the F1 student visa for international players at the high school level and ended up selling them to different schools and coaches around the country for about a thousand dollars each.
Many of these youths have not been recovered, which means we don't know where they are, we don't know if they're still in the US.
Some of them may be wrestling with the same question that Tito did considering illegality or remaining unlawfully present as a young black man in pursuit of their hoop dreams in the United States unknowingly.
They were pushed to migrate earlier, and I wanna be clear, it's not that they were not enacting their agency by migrating to the United States, because they are.
They're similar to the unaccompanied minors that make the decision to unlawfully enter the US, but there's a big difference when one enters the country knowing that they will confront illegality.
And when one comes to play basketball to have to deal with it in a space where their blackness is highly policed.
Thank you.
(audience applauding) (gentle music) - I've always loved stories, especially stories about outsiders.
When I was a little girl, one of my favorite books was called "The Girl With the Silver Eyes".
In that book, Katie's used to being alone.
She prefers books to people because she feels so different from everybody else.
She's the only person she knows who has silver eyes and she can make things happen just by thinking about them.
She's got the gift of telekinesis.
That description was like an illicit drug to 10-year-old me.
I'd grown up as an army brat and I'd lived in four states in two countries by the time I was 10 years old.
I was often one of the only black kids in my class.
So I knew what it was like to be a lonely, bookish girl who didn't fit in.
And even though I didn't have the gift of telekinesis like Katie, for a few hours reading her story, I could pretend that my difference somehow gave me something special too.
In my personal and professional life as a writer and educator, I've sought out stories of other outsiders and I've come to believe that outsider identities do make us special, that they gift us with valuable insights and abilities.
So to demonstrate, I'm gonna tell you a few stories.
The first story is about a scientist just about all of us know, but I'm not gonna reveal his name just yet.
Instead, I'm gonna share a few things about him that you may not know.
Like the fact that he was born in the 1600s to a single mother.
When he was three, his mother remarried, but instead of bringing him along with them to start their new family, his stepfather shipped him off to go live with his grandmother.
That experience of rejection had a profound impact on him.
He grew up lonely and isolated.
Like Katie, he spent a lot of his time in books.
He also spent time in nature.
One of the things that he noticed when he was in nature was that when apples fall from trees, they fall to the earth as if magnetized.
Isaac Newton, who you might have guessed, observed something that everybody else took for granted, and those observations led to the theory of gravity.
We don't often think of Isaac Newton as an outsider, but I believe his personal experiences and outsider perspective likely contributed to his unique way of seeing the world and the many scientific innovations that followed.
People who are outside of the dominant culture often see things that other people miss and that can lead to world-changing innovation.
Take Dr. Patricia Bath for example, an ophthalmologist who grew up in Harlem, she attended medical school as the only black woman in her class.
But while she was there and an intern, she noticed things that her white peers missed.
For example, she saw that when black patients showed up at the clinic in Harlem, they were more likely to experience blindness and visual impairment than the white patients at the Columbia clinic.
She knew that this was likely due to lack of access to good eye care in the black community.
Her observation, deeply intertwined with her identity and her experiences, led her to develop a whole new branch of public health called community ophthalmology.
She also invented a device that treats people with cataracts.
Her patented invention is used to treat people all across the world.
Her outsider status as a black woman physician gave her the gift of insight that led to worldwide healing innovation.
My difference has not only given me the ability to appreciate the stories of outsiders, it's given me insights too.
For example, when I began my career as a staff member in higher ed, I expected that being a black woman would make me feel like an outsider on predominantly white campuses.
But I didn't realize that my status as a staff member would too.
My dissertation shares the stories of women like me, women in roles like marketing, development, information technology, business roles that actually help the institution function.
We were marginalized in academia and nearly invisible in academic research.
Our stories share the pain of our exclusion, but they also share our vision, our vision for making academia the kind of community where ideas, professions, and identities can actually thrive.
My dissertation was featured in "The Chronicle of Higher Education", it won a $20,000 dissertation award, it was the subject of the very first episode of a new NPR podcast series, and I'm speaking to you here tonight because of those stories from the margins, those stories impacted people all over.
That kind of recognition makes me feel like maybe my difference gave me something special after all.
And here's the thing about being an outsider, no matter who you are or what your identity, we have all been outsiders at some point of time in our lives.
It's ironically a universal human experience.
I bet you can think back to when maybe you weren't picked for a team or maybe you moved to a new community or a new country.
Maybe you're the black sheep in your family.
There's something about your outsider status that likely taught you things that those who belonged either took for granted or couldn't even see.
Because when you have to navigate an environment where you don't belong, you pick up on unwritten, unspoken, and unacknowledged rules and information that those in the dominant groups take for granted.
And those insights can lead you to develop new ideas that benefit everybody.
So why is all this important?
Stories from the margins are pathways to innovation.
Yet we're at this weird time, this time of almost dystopian time, of enormous upheaval with challenges in all of our systems and including threats to the health of the very planet that we live on and share.
And in the midst of this time, our society seems to be closing its doors on those of us who are different.
They close those doors out of ignorance, out of judgment and out of fear.
But that's a grave mistake.
This is an all hands on deck moment.
We need the ideas, the voices, and the leadership of those whose stories and insights are different from the status quo.
That's why I'm challenging you, I'm urging each and every one of you to not only remember the outsider within yourself, but to invite the vision and leadership of those on the outside in because it's going to take all of our new ideas, all of our unique and precious identities and exceptional vision to light the paths forward our world urgently needs.
Thank you.
(audience applauding) (audience cheering) (relaxed music) (bright music)
Blackademics TV is a local public television program presented by Austin PBS