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In 1991, Vanilla Ice appeared on the "Arsenio Hall Show" for a now infamous interview. From the moment his guest’s emerald green jumpsuit touched the couch, Arsenio’s demeanor was pointed, aggressive, and stern. Hall went at the white rap phenomenon like a shark smelling blood, grilling him about his past, his dancing, his relationships with other rappers, and more. Six minutes into the interview, Arsenio went for the jugular:

"I know a lot of black rappers are probably angry because some of the white people screaming didn’t buy rap until you did it… until they saw a vanilla face on the album…"

Surprisingly, Vanilla Ice’s response seemed to win the studio audience over that night, even causing them to heckle the show’s host. "It’s not my fault," he said. "Did I have anything to do with that? No… Whether I like it or not, it’s bringing rap music up. Rap music is here to stay."

It was an oversimplification of a complex issue, but it was also a hard argument to counter at the time. Rob Van Winkle, having just released the first hip-hop single to top the Billboard charts, wasn’t a marketing or record label executive; he was just a guy that made rap songs and danced in shiny suits. Hell, he was a Public Enemy fan himself! In 1991, new artists didn’t have much control over how they were being presented or packaged, and the public didn’t necessarily expect them to be vocal about socio-economic issues.

-=-=-=-More than two decades later, questions of what to do with white privilege in rap music, and what responsibility the white rapper has to the cultural roots of their art form, remain in heated contention. Race in America is still at the forefront of our minds and headlines, and artists are now responsible for providing daily content via social media to the Internet. As a result, the argument started by Arsenio Hall and Vanilla Ice is still raging, and one needs look no further than Azealia Banks’ Hot 97 interview from December of last year, or controversies over Iggy Azalea and Macklemore, to see that the tone has only intensified.

Also, recent viral successes like Watsky ("Pale Kid Raps Fast") and Mac Lethal ("White Kid Raps Fast!") can no longer hide behind Vanilla Ice’s 1991 defense. They themselves purposefully titled their videos, to exploit the novelty of their whiteness, and cashed in enormously by doing so. Viral fame and acknowledgement from mainstream pop culture quickly followed, while equally talented black artists have remained unrecognized by those outlets. No word on whether Ellen DeGeneres has ever heard of Tech N9ne, but suffice it to say he has not yet been a guest on her show. Rappers are now packaging themselves more directly, and as such can be expected to answer more directly for the racial bias they exploit.

As a white rapper myself, I’ve been navigating these waters for years. When I began performing in New York in 1999, I immediately encountered Def Jam executives who were eagerly looking for "the next Eminem." I quickly realized this was an open door I could try and walk through, as excited A&Rs made clear at the private industry party I was invited to perform at after only a few public performances at the Nuyorican Cafe.

Years later, I’ve found myself frustrated and compelled to confront my white rap peers as recently as last May’s Soundset festival in Minneapolis. On my way between stages, I passed by Yelawolf’s (white) DJ in the VIP artist’s area, and was amazed to see him wearing a hat with the confederate flag on it. The idea that he would perform wearing it, as a white artist at a hip-hop festival, disgusted me. I later learned that Yelawolf has had his own past controversies involving his endorsement of that flag.