Chef serves up a helping of soul food

Author: Jason Siegel

The Middlebury Campus: You're here because of your work in activism as well as your music. What can you accomplish through music or other forms of art that you can't accomplish through non-artistic channels?

Isaac Hayes: Music is one of the cores of the fine arts and the fine arts is the most definite means of communication. I just happened to wind up in it. I found out through the years that I could make a difference through my music.

The Campus: What do you think music can do that lobbying can't?

IH: Some people are so quick to reject - music breaks the barriers down and communicates. People in the music business should be aware of that responsibility. You have to be responsible, especially when you can make the world a better place, but most in the business like to take the money and run.

The Campus: Was there any one particular event that inspired you to get involved in your causes?

IH: You would see if you grew up in the South like I did, the bastion of racism. I knew that things were going to change, but it took a lot of suffering, a lot of confronting, a lot of marching. You had to be brave. And some went into an agreement with that whole condition, but I never did. I took a stand when I was a little kid. I was raised by my grandparents. My grandfather died when I was about 11 years old and I had to take responsibility and be the man of the family. People took liberties, especially white people, because they thought that's the way life should be, and we should accept it. I suffered at the hands of all these people. For instance, when I was working in the kitchen as a busboy, this white man spat on the floor, and I had to sweep it up. When I swept it up, he stuck his foot out. I accidentally swept his foot, and he said to me, "don't you sweep my foot, you black bastard." Then he leaned back and had a .32 on his hip. But what was I supposed to do except to keep on sweeping? But I knew that change was going to come.

The Campus: Students here often complain about apathy on campus. What, in your experience, has been an effective way to combat apathy?

IH: Sometimes you have to do something to shock people. You have to do something to get their attention. They might say you're crazy, but at least you'll get their attention. Because sometimes people get lured into a sense of false security, and that's when people become apathetic. Sometimes society and its leaders will do that, especially our political leaders. They don't want the boat rocked. They want their constituents to become apathetic. The ones that want to make waves are the troublemakers, but they're the ones who will shake the walls of apathy. I think that happens all the time. There are those that will not rest until things are done. I remember when the hippies who rebelled against their parents, because of the safe, 'Leave it to Beaver' lifestyle in America. But kids started waking up. So that's when the rebellions started. That's the American way. The thing is, the college campuses - they rose up, they rose up.


The Campus: What do you think is the biggest challenge facing ethnic minorities
today in the U.S.?

IH: Well, I think the biggest challenge is education. I say that because I'm a great sup-
porter of literacy, and that's the biggest obstacle because when you're fully literate, you have so many options. There is power in literacy. If you're not literate, your choices are more limited. They [minorities] can rise above all that - if you're able to express yourself, and speak and write - there is power in words. But if you can't do that, then you're limited. That's why Dr. King was a great communicator.

The Campus: Do you think that recent comments made by Bill Cosby - asserting that Black people ought to play into the white culture - are helpful to the African-American community? Do you agree?

IH: I don't think he was meaning to tell Blacks to play into the white society - but they should know how to do that. It's your choice how to speak and how to live. It's a bigger palette to paint your picture on than just in the hood. It's the image that's associated with that kind of lifestyle and image. But through
education, you can have options, and you can talk to everybody.

The Campus: Tell us about your experience
in Ghana. What you did you do, how did
it come about, what was the result?

IH: I went with a friend to Ghana, and I was introduced to all the sights by a minister. When I returnd to the states, I started giving lectures, telling Black students to visit Africa. A Ghanian princess heard me speak, and she called me and asked if I would like to be her king. She knew that I had a very busy schedule, and told me her father would condense the process of becoming a king into just two days. I had to go through the initiation ritual. All the local chiefs and citizens came. It was awesome - all these schools of people dressed in their tribal wear. It was a great thing. Then they made me a king, not a chief. When people rule, they can write the rules. I was glad to be a part of Africa's culture. Then they made me a development king, and I helped with a lot of development in Ghana. I was a king in Ada, in Ghana, the southeastern tip of the country.

The Campus: What's your favorite song?

IH: That's hard, because I love music. I love jazz, and I love R&B. I love gospel. I change with the times, I don't like to get stuck. Nat King Cole is one of my all-time favorite artists.

The Campus: Do you have a favorite song of yours?

IH: I wrote a song, on the album, "Chocolate Chip," Come Live With Me - very romantic.

The Campus: Do you have any upcoming plans?

IH: I'm thinking about writing a series of children's books - "The Adventures of Uncle Bubba" - that's all I can say. My sister used to call me Bubba. You'll know when it's out.

The Campus: How did the "South Park" gig come about?

IH: I just kept beating up on my agent about voiceovers. He was so reluctant to tell me about it - and I had such an attitude about meeting the guys - the directors of "South Park." But I read some of the script and started cracking up. I couldn't believe it was real. I started thinking - this thing will last six weeks and I'll be out of here. But when it aired, the ratings went through the roof. What made me realize I had made it was when I had an autograph signing in Connecticut at a video store. The lines were around the block when the limousine pulled up. I went inside and people had all of my albums. It really turned my head to see kids there with the "chef" dolls. That's when it hit me - my fan base had expanded from six to 96.