Mickey Breeze and H. Bernard Hall on Hip Hop As a Lifestyle
Key Points
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We might have a different “palette” of belonging than the students we are serving. How do we get out of the way to allow them to fully see and be seen?
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Hip hop is not a product — it is a way of life.
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The question about hip hop use is “why” not “what” or “how”.
On this episode of the Getting Smart Podcast, Victoria Andrews is joined by Producer Mickey Breeze, the 10-time Beat Battle Champion of the Twin Cities. He is also a former teacher for the “Twin Cities Mobile Jazz Project.” and a DJ for the Minnesota Timberwolves and Twins. He’s a proud alumni of the High School for Recording Arts in St. Paul, MN.
We’re also joined by Dr. H. Bernard Hall an Assistant Professor of Urban Teacher Education at Drexel University in the Department of Teaching, Learning, and Curriculum. His teaching and research interests include urban teacher education and development, social justice-oriented approaches to secondary English education, hip-hop pedagogy, anti-Black educational policy and practice, and critical qualitative research.
Transcript
Victoria Andrews: Hi everyone! Welcome to the Getting Smart podcast. I’m Victoria Andrews. Imagine living in the Bronx fifty years ago and arriving at a neighborhood house party right before school starts. While you’re disappointed that summer is ending, you’re grateful for this last celebration of summer freedom. When you walk in, you see all your friends, maybe even a special someone you have a crush on, but what really grabs your attention is the music. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever heard before.
In the middle of a song, the DJ plays a portion of the bass break from another track and moves seamlessly to another break. The crowd goes wild. Everybody is dancing, and it’s such a sight to behold. Few were fortunate enough to attend this historic neighborhood party, which would later be known as the birthplace of hip-hop. This revolutionary moment in history would impact music, culture, fashion, and how we connect with each other—especially through education, which is the focus of today’s podcast.
As many of you know, we are hosting our New Pathways campaign, which is grounded in six pillars, such as unbundled learning policies and systems. One pillar I’m particularly passionate about is supported guidance, which asks how we can build spaces for young people to fully express themselves. This is why hip-hop is essential to relationships—to share experiences and highlight how we can embed hip-hop in how we support students.
Today, I’m joined by two exceptional guests: Mickey Breeze and Dr. H. Bernard Hall. Mickey Breeze is a 10-time Beat Battle Champion of the Twin Cities. He’s also a former teacher for the Twin Cities Mobile Jazz Project and a DJ for the Minnesota Timberwolves and Twins. He’s a proud alumnus of the High School for Recording Arts in St. Paul, Minnesota.
Dr. H. Bernard Hall is an assistant professor of Urban Teacher Education at Drexel University in the Department of Teaching, Learning, and Curriculum. His teaching and research interests include urban teacher education and development, social justice-oriented approaches to secondary English education, hip-hop pedagogy, anti-Black educational policy, and critical qualitative research. I’m super excited to have both of you here today!
Mickey Breeze: Thanks for having me.
Dr. H. Bernard Hall: Thank you. Happy to be here.
Victoria Andrews: Awesome! So, to get us started, can both of you share how hip-hop has shaped you personally and professionally?
Mickey Breeze: Sure, I’ll go first. Personally, hip-hop has had a very different impact on me compared to other musical genres. It was my introduction to music, and a lot of the knowledge I have on rhythm, drum beats, and musical style comes from it. Growing up in the 2000s, I watched my older brother idolize rappers, the flashy cars, and the clothes. While that didn’t resonate with me as much, the music definitely did.
As a kid, I got into synthesizers and making my own beats at a young age because I loved the sound of 808s. My mom always had subwoofers in her car, so bass was super enticing for me. Professionally, I’ve seen both the positives and negatives of hip-hop, so I know what to avoid. A lot of people idolize the more violent or boastful aspects of hip-hop, but I was always more attracted to the intelligence behind it—the MCs who were making moves behind the scenes rather than flashing gold chains and diamonds.
Victoria Andrews: That’s fascinating. Mickey, before we move to Dr. Hall, could you share how you became a DJ? When did you start, and how were you introduced to it?
Mickey Breeze: I started when I was about eight years old. I wasn’t into much else—sports, video games, toys—it wasn’t really my thing. My grandfather taught me how to play piano when I was five, so I was always musically inclined. My older brother was influenced by rappers like Soulja Boy, and he gave me his old PlayStation Portable. But instead of playing games, I found a beat-making software called Beaterator. I got really into it and started making beats.
As I got better, I wanted to find a way to perform the music I was creating, but I wasn’t interested in singing or holding a mic. That’s when I realized DJing was the perfect avenue. Watching movies like Juice, especially the DJ battle scene with Q, really inspired me. That’s when I started going by “Breeze,” and from there, I found my path to performing as a DJ.
Victoria Andrews: That’s awesome! Dr. Hall, how has hip-hop shaped you both personally and professionally?
Dr. H. Bernard Hall: Well, hip-hop gave me my cool, my craft, my politics, and ultimately my profession. I was born in Detroit in 1979, and I grew up in a middle-class home where hip-hop was essentially “illegal.” My parents didn’t allow it, so naturally, I was drawn to it even more. Luckily, I had a big cousin who moved in with us when I was in fourth or fifth grade. He was everything I wanted to be—he was the quarterback, a ladies’ man, and he had a car full of tapes.
He introduced me to artists like Eric B. and Rakim, and I quickly became obsessed with hip-hop. Hip-hop also gave me my craft—writing. I’ve always been good at manipulating words, and hip-hop gave me a cool way to express that. It also gave me an identity beyond being just an athlete. I was able to use that “nerdiness” to my advantage, camouflaging it within hip-hop culture. The lessons I learned from performing on stage translated directly into the classroom, and that’s how I transitioned from being on stage to teaching middle school English Language Arts.
Victoria Andrews: If you can move a middle school crowd, you can move anyone!
Dr. H. Bernard Hall: Exactly! Middle schoolers are the toughest audience in America.
Victoria Andrews: Absolutely! If you can capture their attention and move them to action, you’ve mastered the art of connection. I appreciate hearing both of your journeys—how hip-hop guided you and helped you discover new aspects of your identity. Mickey, you mentioned earlier how hip-hop can sometimes glamorize negative aspects, but that’s not the part we should focus on. Can both of you share how you’ve used or hope to use hip-hop to support the students you work with?
Mickey Breeze: Hip-hop is more than a culture; it’s a language. You can tell a lot about someone through the music they listen to. With my younger students, I’ve noticed that drill music is the new trend. While the content can be problematic—focusing on violence and crime—the music itself has potential. I try to reorient it for educational purposes. For example, I’ll have students write a verse without telling me what it’s about. We’ll work on the beat together and then shape it into something more meaningful.
Music can be a better way to communicate with students than simply explaining concepts in a traditional way. It provides a connection that goes beyond just teaching. If I can find a way to relate through music, I can bridge that gap with my students.
Victoria Andrews: That’s a great approach, Mickey. Dr. Hall, you shared something similar during the Hip Hop Ed conference session I attended in June. Can you talk more about how you’ve used music to connect with students, especially when their preferences differ from yours?
Dr. H. Bernard Hall: Absolutely. I developed something I call Hip-Hop Writing—with “writing” spelled as W-R-I-G-H-T, combining writing in the traditional sense with “righting,” as in correcting or challenging societal norms. When I started my hip-hop writing workshop, I had a whole syllabus ready. I was going to introduce students to the godfathers of hip-hop, take them through the history of Philadelphia hip-hop, and explore gangster rap. But before I schooled them on all that, I asked them who they were vibing with.
To my surprise, they were all into West Philly drill. It challenged my generational tastes, but I had to listen with an open mind. Drill allowed us to have conversations about institutional forces shaping their experiences and how hip-hop reflects what’s going on in our neighborhoods. It was a way to explore the realities of their lives without dismissing their preferences.
Victoria Andrews: I love how both of you embrace student agency and allow hip-hop to bridge the gap between you and your students. You’ve both shown how important it is to step back and let students lead in their own way. Mickey, you mentioned earlier that students often have as much experience, if not more, in certain areas than adults. How do you foster that agency in your students?
Mickey Breeze: Absolutely. One thing I always say is that age doesn’t always equal experience. I was one of the youngest DJs in my city, and I knew things that some older people didn’t. It’s about recognizing that students can teach us just as much as we teach them. If a student knows more than me about something, I’m not going to diminish their knowledge. I want to learn from them, just like they can learn from me.
For example, I’ve learned a lot about drill, social media, and even AI from my students. Some are using AI to replicate the voices of rappers who have passed away and implement them into modern music. That’s something I never even thought of. It’s about letting students breathe and express themselves without stifling their creativity.
Victoria Andrews: Do you think the support you received as a young DJ at the High School for Recording Arts helped shape that mindset?
Mickey Breeze: Absolutely. HSRA was a school made up of artists from all walks of life. When I came in, I wasn’t a typical student—I was much more focused on being an artist. I didn’t care much about grades, but the school recognized my passion for DJing and supported it. They didn’t stifle me; they encouraged me. They even let me use my DJing as part of my school projects, giving me credit for things I was already doing.
It was a space where I could thrive, and that’s what I want to provide for my students—a space where they can fully express themselves and not feel limited by traditional structures.
Victoria Andrews: That’s incredible, Mickey. Creating an environment where students can soar and reach their full potential is so important. As we wrap up, I’d love to hear from both of you—what advice would you give to educators, superintendents, or anyone education-adjacent who wants to use hip-hop as a pathway to support students?
Dr. H. Bernard Hall: I would start by saying that we’re limiting the possibilities of supporting and connecting with students if we think of hip-hop only as a product. Hip-hop is a way of life, and rap music is just one artifact. We need to think about the ways of knowing, doing, and being that are connected to hip-hop culture and how they can inform how we teach both students and educators.
For example, hip-hop’s cultural practice of freestyle can teach us about writing with creativity and carefreeness. Sampling in hip-hop can show us how to build on past works to create something new. These are powerful teaching tools that go beyond just using hip-hop music in the classroom. Once we understand why we want to use hip-hop, we can ask better questions about how to use it effectively.
Victoria Andrews: That’s a fantastic point. Mickey, any final thoughts?
Mickey Breeze: I’d say find common ground. Hip-hop is one of the most influential genres and cultures worldwide. It touches everyone in some way, so don’t go into any situation closed-minded. If you can find something in hip-hop that you relate to, you can use it to engage with others. It’s about bridging gaps—whether it’s age, experience, or location. Hip-hop has found its way into everyone’s life in some form, so use that to build connections.
Victoria Andrews: Thank you so much, Mickey and Dr. Hall. I appreciate this conversation and hearing about your pathways. The challenge you both laid out for our listeners—to embrace hip-hop as a tool for freedom and student agency—is powerful. Thank you to all our listeners for joining us. We hope you have a great day!
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