1. offensive slang A derogatory term for a girl or young woman who is considered promiscuous and who lives in or frequents “the hood” (an urban neighborhood, especially an impoverished one). Primarily heard in the US.
“You know those hood rats are just gold digging.“
2. rude slang An often derogatory term for a young person who lives in “the hood” (an urban neighborhood, especially an impoverished one). Potentially offensive. Primarily heard in the US.
Words hold a lot of power. Things we’re told or messages we’ve inferred from our lives in the world have the ability to form who we are and what we become. I have been repeatedly labelled a ‘hoodrat’ by society-a moniker that lets someone know their place. I’ve also been called “intense”, “outspoken” and “trashy” but of all the possible low-income titles that have been hurled at me-‘hoodrat’ is my favorite.
To me, it is a badge of honor. The qualities of a hoodrat are not seen to be satisfactory to a dignified society, but I believe they are necessary.
Growing up people would often ask me ‘where are you from?’ and I would struggle to provide a comfortable answer. When asked the question I would always wonder…are they asking where I was born? Where my family is from? Where I just was? Anytime this would arise I was never what I was ‘supposed to be’ and often frustrated the person asking.
I moved over 15 times as a child and attended 10 different schools from California to Ontario, Canada. Stability was a mere pipe dream in my youth but the experiences gained over my short time in this reality have led me to become a little more curious than the average bear. I have 4-5 accents competing with each other at all times.
I am personally of an Irish, Mennonite and Romani background. Being mostly nomadic peoples going back generations-we never really stayed put. In Ireland my family dealt in horses and would have historically moved around the country to horse fairs and stables. We joined the military and became nurses. Addicted to chaos.
Due to this constant migration we were never really able to fully integrate into the larger homogenous societies we were in. Some generations fully avoiding the greater community. As very white people we totally looked like we fit in, but very quickly our income, language and as my family and greater society declared “white trash attitude”, would be apparent and we’d be swiftly categorized as poor. Therefore, undesirable and to be forgotten.
Living with these titles and never setting roots meant that with each move I needed to find safety and understanding to survive. I was literally raised by the proverbial ‘village’. People from all backgrounds and walks of life at some point helped keep me alive, invited me into their homes, fed me, taught me how to take care of myself. These experiences have given me a deep sense of interest and respect for all people and cultures.
Never staying put led me to fall into artistic pursuits as a way of coping with emotions and making connections with others. First with dance and martial arts then eventually landing on visual arts and music. Having tried all aspects of artistic practice, I realized early on that it was a safe space for a sensitive perpetually out of the loop person such as myself.
Though in and out of ‘the system’ in my youth, I was able to socially pass in certain scenarios which has allowed me to see things from multiple angles. Being an artist I was able to attend exclusive functions and hob-nob with all sorts over the years, where I learned to hide my poverty.
Computers became a stable predictable place I could go from the instability of existence. On the internet I was free and my mind was the only stopper of intellectual possibilities. Before middle school I would just find the nearest local library and essentially live there but now, I didn’t have to do this. I could continue friendships after moving, follow music, and learn what I wanted as long as I could secure access to a computer. It didn’t even have to be my computer-shout out to all my nerd buds over the years letting me play with their shit.
We’ve watched the internet grow from a Wild West messaging board to a juggernaut of commercial efficiency and control. What was once my home has been turned into a subversive Time Square where every second loitered over an ad will trigger an onslaught of more. ‘They’ are watching to you and we all know it.
After the 2020 pandemic and many hard familial changes I realized I needed to go deeper into the machine to understand what was happening to our society in real time. I watched helplessly on Telegram groups and social media outposts as Trumpism and global misinformation took over. The Insurrection and Trucker protests were all planned in plain sight for all to see but, in an ocean will anyone see a drop?
This discomfort led me to pursue a diploma in Data Science where I gained tools to collect, process and analyze large blocks of data regardless of the oxymoronic title. It also essentially rewired my high school drop-out brain to an acceptable cognitive state to understand more complex theories and technology.
The goal behind this site is to attempt to integrate all of my creative and research interests into a single entity. This is both an artistic space and a place to maybe categorize some of the changes we’re going through as a society. Knowledge is power and we are living in a time where we are drowning in it. It’s hard to sift through. I hope what I create here might help someone on their own path or maybe provide another viewpoint or perspective.
I do not claim to be an academic, I am not affiliated with any institution, I do not believe myself to be a legitimate Anthropologist. That would be a disservice to real Anthropologists who have worked tirelessly to achieve their degrees and are probably deeply in debt.
I am a Hoodrat Anthropologist, I’ve been trained by ‘the streets’ but also have internet access and decent reading comprehension. This is a place of citizen research and creative expression, in the spirit of KRS-One and Maya Angelou. To bare witness.
Thank you for coming, I hope you feel something.
Hoodrat Anthropology 