Maybe it's the body-rattling beats that sound like rhythmic bombs in the distance. Maybe it's the rapid-fire lyricism that reverberates like verbal gunfire. Maybe it's the spread of every conservative talking point media critics blather about when "examining" rap lyrics. For whatever reason, the University of Wisconsin Police Department has deemed the hip-hop community a threat to the general public.

Last week, the UWPD cancelled a Hispanic Heritage Month event organized by the Lambda Theta Phi fraternity. The Lambdas said UWPD expressed concern over the party because of problems at "similar" — meaning hip-hop-themed — parties, despite the fact that the fraternity didn't specify their musical choice before hand.

Taken as an isolated case, UWPD still seems to be operating with rationality. The party was widely advertised via Facebook and allegedly had 500-plus people who accepted invitations, far beyond Tripp Commons' 250-300 person capacity. With heightened game-day bar activity, the ballooning number of guests meant that UWPD could not effectively monitor the crowd and prevent any possible outbreaks of violence.

Yet, it's that last part that raises an eyebrow. What is it about the event that would elicit violence in the first place? If large crowds and outsiders were the problem, then it could have still been managed. This year's summer music series at the Terrace drew in hundreds of crowds for music events ranging from jam bands to mock metal to hip-hop, and the only security problem occurred during this year's Jazz Fest, when a man jumped on stage and began playing the bongos. More annoying than criminal.

So if large crowds and a community audience, meaning a non-union one, don't elicit the same kind of reaction depending on the event, then it appears the unstated fear may have to do with the music being played. Certainly, that's the picture union officials depict.

According to several sources from the Wisconsin Union Directorate, the UWPD have singled out nearly every hip-hop show for increased security and scrutiny. With nearly every show hip-hop show, UWPD has requested increased police presence. One of the most egregious examples came in April 2007, when the "Hip-hop as a Movement Week" brought Afrika Bambaata to Memorial Union's Great Hall. Despite WUD hiring professional security for the event and working in tandem with MCSC to manage a large crowd, UWPD arrived on the scene, dismissed the security personnel and prevented any more spectators from entering the Great Hall. While police claimed the room had reached maximum capacity, WUD officials working the event said police officers were mistaken. Police officers then charged MCSC for security costs.

These discrepancies repeated themselves this month when UWPD threatened to shut down the Blues Scholar show at Memorial Union Terrace because a member of co-sponsor Multicultural Student Coalition "failed" to address security concerns with UWPD.

The concern of larger crowds and non-union participants might lend some credence to police arguments if it wasn't for similar events with the same problem. Pat McCurdy drew such immense crowds to the terrace this summer that there was barely room to move. However, it merited no more than a walkthrough by UWPD. That makes sense: Mr. McCurdy's fans aren't known for rowdy behavior.

But what about metal? Metal Max's "Thrashfest" at Union South went on without so much as a meeting beforehand, despite the fact that UWPD were forced to restore order at the 2006 New Student Music Fest when a metal show broke out into fights. If one repeated anecdote of an injury at a hip-hop show is enough to merit a marked increase in police presence, shouldn't a musical genre known for overtly aggressive behavior receive the same kind of scrutiny?

The sad fact of the matter is that this scrutiny only occurs during shows featuring minority hip-hop performers. When producer Greg Gillis — AKA Girl Talk — played his multi-spliced hip-hop mixes at Union South last semester, UWPD raised no concerns, despite the the room being packed to capacity with most of the attendees crowding the stage and the performer. One WUD coordinator, who wished to remain anonymous, said they informed UWPD that rapper Brother Ali suffered from albinism, a condition that renders the skin white. Shortly thereafter, security concerns over his appearance at the 2006 Madison Pop Festival quickly dissipated. The trends are obvious.

While local police can cite the dangerous precedents set by the old Majestic Club's constant gang presence and a brawl at Cue-Nique, drawing on these incidents in reference to the genre's security risk conflates the crowd with the art form. The Majestic issues were a problem of localized gang activity, not the music that drew them to the clubs. Sure, hip-hop may draw gangs in some instances, but so do school playgrounds sometimes attract child molesters; the security risk involves the criminals, not the event. Furthermore, the Majestic was criticized time and time again for its poor compliance with city ordinances, so parties getting out of control isn't too far-fetched.

The events at the Union are highly organized, employ the coordinated efforts of building managers, event programmers and separate stage managers. Having worked as one of those stage managers, I can attest to the collaboration. When DJ Kool Herc came to the terrace, the most raucous activity I saw was a group of local elementary school kids who awkwardly tried to match the breaker's moves.

So with this example in mind, why does the appearance of any minority group, even as low-key as an African drum circle, require police intervention? It's because residents are scared. With the rise in crime, Madisonians are demanding action, and police are overreacting. It's not that the UWPD actually deems hip-hop a menace to society, it's that they feel any action other than walking slowly is a possible risk. It is for this reason that the union is planning an open forum for discriminated parties to voice concerns. Maybe then the UWPD will realize the only weapon the hip-hop community uses is their voice.

Jason Smathers ([email protected]) is the Editorial Content Editor and a senior majoring in journalism and history.