Exploring Identification and Rhetorical Empathy: J. Cole and Amanda Gorman
- Spencer Roach
- Jun 18
- 14 min read
"Rap is poetry and it is thought provoking. There is thought behind it and there's great writing in rap. You never hear rappers being compared to the greatest writers of all time. You hear Bob Dylan. So is Biggie Smalls in a Hitchcock way. Some of the things that Biggie wrote ... Rakim, I mean listen to some of the things he wrote. If you take those lyrics and you pull them away from the music and you put 'em up on the wall somewhere and someone had to look at them, they would say, “This is genius. This is genius work.” -Jay-Z (2011)
From Robert Frost for Kennedy, Maya Angelou for Clinton, or Beyoncé for Obama, music and poetry has operated as a political rhetorical vehicle at presidential inaugurations to highlight a collective unity and celebration of virtue traits like justice, courage, wisdom, etc. There is legitimacy to poetry and lyricism that conveys and enhances deep meaning over simple aesthetics or melodic rhythm.
I’m curious about the role that empathy plays in rap music and poetry. Burkean identity and consubstantiality (identifying with the interest of another) in conjunction with Lisa Blankenship’s definition of rhetorical empathy provides the lens through which I explore rhetorical choices made by Amanda Gorman in her TedTalk “Using Your Voice is a Political Choice” and “MIDDLE CHILD” by J. Cole. In these pieces, Cole and Gorman engage empathetically by identifying with those who came before them. They reveal how aligning identity and meaning behind an author’s choices can create a space for empathetic actions. It is important to operate under the assumption that rap music is inherently poetic and poetry is inherently political–invisible threads woven throughout Gorman and Cole’s work.
Amanda Gorman came to wide-spread notoriety for her poem “The Hills We Climb.” Most notably, her reading of the poem at Biden’s inauguration was so raw and profound that it inspired book deals and a litany of talk show appearances. I thought it was worth it, moreover, to explore something like her TedTalk because it makes clear certain dispositions that fueled the words on the page. Gorman’s TedTalk is deeply rhetorical in nature because it allows viewers to understand motivations, inspiration, and the care behind the words she wrote.
J. Cole has been ever-present in the rap scene since his debut mix tape The Come Up dropped in 2007. It was Cole’s third studio album, 2014 Forrest Hill Drive, that not only cemented him as one of the best artists going at the time, but solidified his position within the hip-hop community as a formidable force in the industry. Considering that it is one of the highest grossing rap albums of all time, Forrest Hills is one of the few records that charted at an all-time high with no featuring artists on the entire album – a feat very rare to the industry at the time. This is important because J. Cole etched out a spot at the top of the game who can effectively do it all. “MIDDLE CHILD” released in 2019 reflects not just on being one of the best rappers but the journey it took to get him there.
This piece draws inspiration from Dennis Lynch’s “Rhetorics of Proximity: Empathy in Temple Grandin and Cornel West.” Lynch wrote a rhetorical analysis of proximity, essentially an examination of close connection, in two vastly different settings to convey empathetic engagement from the speaker to their audience. My work delineates from Lynch’s a bit given the interconnectivity of poetry and hip-hop. I was looking to challenge myself by 20cross-comparing two pieces that reflect similar tendencies that occur in different contexts, all the while maintaining the same goal – using identity to portray empathy. Identification as empathy is Burkean in nature which provides the baseline understanding of how Gorman and Cole engage in it.
When analyzing “MIDDLE CHILD” and “Using Your Voice is a Political Choice,” I dropped in whole verses or larger quotes and analyzed around them. Although this format tends to be seen as rudimentary or simplistic, I found it impactful for the breadth and depth of the song and/or TedTalk to be read in its entirety in order to show the full scope of the content.
I also always wanted to prioritize playing with genre or pushing up against traditional writing standards for seminar papers in graduate school to challenge my own composition sensibilities. Bending conventions and writing with my voice, within the freedom that our master’s program might offer you, has always felt of high value. My personal writing has a lot of voice, and I tend to use more informal diction/humor. For this piece, however, I did make a conscious effort to turn some of that off to a degree since blending and weaving quotes, or “sophisticated” writing, was mostly absent. I approached the material as analytically as possible, and I think the essay succeeds in that way.
J. Cole’s “MIDDLE CHILD” dropped as a single in 2019 to great acclaim. At the point of this writing the song has 964,923,779 spins on Spotify, and the music video has 242,259,136 views on YouTube. On its face, “MIDDLE CHILD” is an exploration of the strife within identity while utilizing rhetorical empathy to encourage and inspire younger rappers. The song stands alone, unattached thematically or artistically to an album, with the title offering insight into the posturing Cole will do in the verses of how he feels caught between two different rap generations.
Both the title and release of the song as a single are rhetorical choices made by Cole to invite and invent discourse empathetically to captivate and intrigue the audience of everyday listeners to rappers he mentions by name. “MIDDLE CHILD” exhibits identity and consubstantiality as Cole navigates the uniqueness of his individuality in rap, while lamenting about the intersection of acting-together with his counterparts.
As Burke explains, In being identified with B, A is “substantially one” with a person other than himself. Yet at the same time he remains unique, an individual locus of motives. Thus he is both joined and separate, at once a distinct substance and consubstantial with another…A doctrine of consubstantiality, either explicit or implicit may be necessary to any way of life. For substance, in the old philosophies, was an act; and a way of life is an acting-together; and in acting together, men have common sensations, concepts, images, ideas, attitudes that make them consubstantial" (Burke 21).
The deaths of young rap musicians such as Tupac, Biggie Smalls, Eazy-E, and more recently Juice WRLD and Mac Miller, is an unfortunate pattern that Cole is juxtaposing with certain current artists in the industry just there to be “lit.” Cole begins “MIDDLE CHILD” in the refrain by implying a scope and perspective of the current rap scene:
"The real ones been dyin’, the fake ones is lit, / The game is off balance, I’m back on my shit, / The Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty, / But that’s how I like it."
Here, Cole is positioning himself in the middle of two varying generations of rap artists. This verse foregrounds his fluidity and experience of identity in rap, stuck in the middle of two generations. Cole’s “Bentley is dirty, [his] sneakers [are] dirty,” which is his first empathetic testament to the hard work he’s put in to be a voice of credibility in the rap scene. He wants to make art by putting in the difficult work. In contrast, artist Tekashi 6ix9ine came under scrutiny for falsifying gang activity and affiliation to sell records. Other considerable factors in the “lit” generation of new rappers is the facade social media applications can create that portray commercial images not true to the real experience of hardship that artists like Nas, Eminem, or Lauryn Hill went through. “The fake ones” are pursuing success by chasing fame and fortune – drawing upon a manufactured persona of plight and struggle indicative of lived experiences of artists who came before them. Marketability over authenticity seems to be Cole’s harshest critique.
Lisa Blankenship defines rhetorical empathy as one's ability to “yield” to others by “sharing and listening” to stories, paying attention to “motives” behind their actions, being self reflective, and noticing differences in “power and embodiment” (20). Cole discusses the power dynamics of new artists on the scene while thanking the “OGs” who came ahead of him, which displays his acknowledgement of differences. Additionally, Cole addresses others’ stories and experiences, how he fits into them, and the motives of their actions. Verse One of “MIDDLE CHILD” is Cole’s most specific use of these characteristics of rhetorical empathy:
"I’m all in my bag, this hard as it get, / I do not snort powder, I might take a sip, / I might hit the blunt, but I’m liable to trip, / I ain’t poppin’ no pill, but you do as you wish, / I roll with some fiends, I love ’em to death, / I got a few mil’ but not all of them rich. / What good is the bread if my n—as is broke? / What good is first class if my n—as can’t sit? / That’s my next mission, that’s why I can’t quit, / Just like LeBron, get my n—as more chips, / Just put the Rollie right back on my wrist, / This watch came from Drizzy, he gave me a gift, / Back when the rap game was prayin’ I’d diss, / They act like two legends cannot coexist, / But I’d never beef with a n—a for nothin’, / If I smoke a rapper, it’s gon’ be legit, / It won’t be for clout, it won’t be for fame, / It won’t be ’cause my shit ain’t sellin’ the same, / It won’t be to sell you my latest lil’ sneakers, / It won’t be ’cause some n—a slid in my lane, / Everything grows, it’s destined to change, / I love you lil’ n—as, I’m glad that you came, / I hope that you scrape every dollar you can, / I hope you know money won’t erase the pain. / To the OGs, I’m thankin’ you now, / Was watchin’ you when you was pavin’ the ground, / I copied your cadence, I mirrored your style, / I studied the greats, I’m the greatest right now, / Fuck if you feel me, you ain’t got a choice, / Now I ain’t do no promo, still made all that noise, / This year gon’ be different, I set my intentions, / I promise to slap all that hate out your voice”
It is in this section that Cole’s consubstantiality with two generations of rappers allows for an insider/outsider ability to use the personal element of rhetoric that focuses on “firsthand, experiential knowledge” in order to engage in empathy (Blankenship 86). He is like rapper A insofar as experiencing what they are about to, just as he is like rapper B who paved the ground before him. Cole is “glad” that the younger generation is on the scene and encourages them to “scrape every dollar [they] can” – much like he did. Cole “coppied” the “cadence” and “style” of the rappers who came before him, not only displaying respect but using a rhetorical appeal of identity and imitation. His ability to flow from an insider and outsider perspective displays the firsthand knowledge Blankenship points to as necessary for rhetorical empathy. He has lived the rapper lifestyle out, and that rhetorically provides the inherent authority to reflect on the rappers that preceded him and those to come.
In Verse Two, J. Cole’s positioning of himself in the center of two generations of rappers is on full display. It's his ability to empathize with both groups that invites discourse to inform inspiration and agency: inspiration to be successful like Jay-Z, aka Jigga; agency to avoid stereotypical strife in hip hop like incarceration or domestic violence:
"I’m dead in the middle of two generations, I’m little bro and big bro all at once, Just left the lab with young 21 Savage, I’m ’bout to go and meet Jigga for lunch, Had a long talk with the young n—a Kodak, Reminded me of young n—as from ‘Ville, Straight out the projects, no fakin’, just honest, I wish that he had more guidance, for real, Too many n—as in cycle of jail, Spending they birthdays inside of a cell, We coming from a long bloodline of trauma, We raised by our mamas, Lord we gotta heal, We hurting our sisters, the babies as well, We killing our brothers, they poisoned the well, Distorted self image, we set up to fail, I’ma make sure that the real gon’ prevail, n—a."
Cole understands the struggle of young rappers such as Kodak Black and 21 Savage. It is his plea for them to seek guidance, which is an empathetic appeal to their emotions by identifying how they remind him of people back home. He is being encouraging, insightful, and acknowledging a long history of “trauma” that gets in the way of the “real” ones prevailing. Nonetheless, Cole finds the value in being “little bro” and “big bro” between the two generations. From being “in the lab” with a brand new artist to getting lunch with Jay-Z, Cole is rhetorically embodying the middle ground of current and past waves of rap artists.
Ultimately, J. Cole’s goal in “MIDDLE CHILD” is to ensure that the next generations of rappers are producing quality art and making money, meanwhile offering the due respect to pioneers of the industry who established the pathway for artists like J. Cole to succeed. Cole is yielding to the younger generation of rappers by listening and understanding that “money won’t erase the pain.” However, like Lebron James bringing in his friends in the NBA to win championships, Cole embraces rhetorical empathy by bringing the new wave of rappers alongside him to help bring money, notoriety, even peace.
Collectively, J. Cole’s “MIDDLE CHILD” finds the balance of traditional rap storytelling conventions in the refrain and chorus, while communicating how identity offers an advantageous proximity to honoring those who came before him, and how that experience can empathetically help up-and-comer rappers find success in the industry.
Poet Amanda Gorman delivered “Using Your Voice is a Political Choice” at a TedEd event in New York City in 2021. Gorman is asserting that politics is at the root of all artforms. I’m particularly drawn to the revelatory nature of Gorman’s craft in poetry in this video; she reflects on her identity and displays rhetorical empathy through pedagogy and her motives and intentions as a poet.
Gorman rose to notoriety after performing her poem “The Hill We Climb” at President Biden’s 2021 inauguration. It is in this 2021 TedTalk, however, where the curtain is pulled back on rhetorical choices that encapsulates how interlocutors such as Gorman, as Blankenship suggests, “ethically engage with one another across pronounced differences…in the form of stories and the (always political) emotions that can ensue” (5).
Gorman begins “Using Your Voice Is a Political Choice” by posing two questions to her audience: “whose shoulders do you stand on?” and “what do you stand for?” These questions are rhetorical in nature, but Gorman offers her response nonetheless. She says, “I am the daughter of black writers, who descended from freedom fighters, who broke their chains and changed the world; they call me.” Gorman’s mantra, as she describes it, demonstrates how identity can function as a mode of rhetorical empathy. Lisa Blankenship defines rhetorical empathy as a “choice and habit of mind that invents and invites discourse informed by deep listening and its resulting emotions, characterized by narratives based on personal experience” (7). Gorman has “invented” discourse not just through this talk but with her poetry. She has also “invited” discourse by teaching her audience how to tap into their identity to fuel the art they are working on. These narratives that use “personal experience” reiterate the idea of consubstantial identity because not only is Gorman like her family before her, there is a relatability of the aspiring poets in the audience to channel similar “resulting emotions.”
Amanda Gorman sets up her discussion of speaking up politically through poetry by explaining her speech impediment and joking about her fear of public speaking: “I'm not sure if you know but public speaking is pretty terrifying. I know I'm on stage and I have my heels, I look all glam, but I'm horrified.” Gorman is inviting her audience to empathize with her just as she is empathizing with them. They identify with one another. In the end, her audience may be able to envision themselves breaking out from the same fears she has.
Gorman continues this invitation by challenging her audience to consider, again, whose shoulders they stand on. It is this identification that can create meaningful poetry. She says this:
“It's only from the height of these shoulders that we might have the sight to see the mighty power of poetry–the power of language made accessible, expressible. Poetry, it’s interesting because not everyone is going to become a great poet, but anyone can be and anyone can enjoy poetry. And it's this openness, this accessibility of poetry that makes it the language of people. Poetry has never been the language barrier, it's always been the language of bridges. And it's this connection making that makes poetry yes powerful but also makes it political.”
Burke’s consubstantial identification contends that the more people are closely related, the more they avoid strife, discontentment, and at the time of his writing, actual war. Poetry as a medium that does more to connect people rather than keep them apart is just that – a “bridge” building relatability insofar as the power of poetry allows for them to engage in civic discourse around politics.
Throughout “Using Your Voice is a Political Choice,” Gorman uses humor, poignant poetic language, and real world examples to walk her audience through how poetry channels politics. However, it is in the conclusion that Gorman hones in on identification and consubstantiality as the driving forces to engage in the poetic rhetoric that inspires discourse politically and socially. She calls on inspirations to her that were “born to be bold” like Maya Angelou, Phillis Wheatley, and Lucille Clifton. She describes what her identity story means and how she wants to tell it – that no one has told “her story, how she would tell it.” She calls back to her original questions of “whose shoulders do you stand on?” and “what do you stand for?” to display to her audience that not only will she write a story, they all will “write a story worth standing for.” Ultimately, Amanda Gorman is engaging empathetically with her audience to inspire, encourage, and make sure people are not engaging in poetry to “have all the right answers, but to ask the right questions.”
Although Amanda Gorman was not performing poetry, her craft in language during some of the speech still resembled the meter and flow of a poem like when she says that her “reaction is to pay honor to those shoulders of people who use those pens to roll over boulders so I might have a mountain of hope on which to stand.” J. Cole melodically and lyrically followed hip-hop conventions that also closely resemble poetry. This intersection of rap and poetry was the guiding phenomenon for looking into rhetorical choices by both authors because at their core both genres challenge conventional thought, disrupt and disarm genre, and use language as the driving force to achieve it all. I have found that both authors effectively used empathy, albeit from different media, in order to analyze identification’s role in rhetorical empathy.
Ultimately, Amanda Gorman in “Using Your Voice is a Political Choice” and J. Cole in “MIDDLE CHILD” communicate that their identities create the opportunity for empathy: Empathy in understanding their journey; empathy in inspiration to produce thoughtful content of rap and poetry; empathy that offers agency to engage in recursive rhetoric. Cole and Gorman share an admiration for people who paved the way for the impact they have made in their respective fields. It is this admiration that allows for Cole and Gorman to form a consubstantial identification with their audience that navigates through strife and offers space for rhetorical empathy. They share in deep listening and response. They share in considering motives and actions behind speech acts. They share in engaging in reflection and self-critique. There is inspiration, revelation, and encouragement that Cole and Gorman, through language, share with their audience that is built on identification and rhetorical empathy.
Revisiting this essay nearly two years after submitting it has allowed for me to see where it succeeds and where it may fall short. The piece does well in flow, organization, and nuance. It scored well upon submissions, but I am able to see some of its shortcomings more glaringly now. The analysis was a bit too surface level, and I was asking the reader to make too many assumptions by moving too quickly past analysis that needed further elaboration. By the time I got to the conclusion, I felt like everything I needed to explain had already occurred. I was worried about redundancy there, but it was wildly important to actually draw the two pieces back together to analyze how I see identity and rhetorical empathy play out in both. Obviously, a conclusion should do some summary, but I’m a bit fearful that it might read as repetitive.
Writing this piece gave me great joy early in the MARC program. I liked using rhet/comp theory to make sense of rhetorical choices made by these authors in a modern context. Cole appeals to a wide audience by establishing his credibility, positioning himself within the larger picture of hip-hop, and situating his story as a key cog in the larger picture of the industry’s machine. Gorman, conversely, clears a path for herself that offers an individualism very counter to Cole. Regardless, her individualistic persona is only possible because of the inspiration from the artists and poets who inspired her journey to begin with, an empathetic appeal to invite other aspiring authors to consider what brought them to where they are, what encourages their story, and equips them to tell it in an effective way. Although vastly different in setting, Gorman and Cole use empathy to a similar degree – raising up voices not previously heard.
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