Jamarhl Crawford talks a lot of talk. But he walks a lot of walk, too.
The Boston Chapter chairman of the New Black Panther Party, Crawford also raps under the name UNO the Prophet. But he spends most days pounding cement, promoting community causes and passing out copies of his newspaper, The Blackstonian.
This week he’s especially busy, hopping from park to park and block to block to promote the 10,000 Strong Boston march for peace and justice that takes place Sunday from noon to six in Franklin Park.
“This is going to be like a mini Million Man March for Boston,” Crawford, who organized the event, said in an interview at his Roxbury home. “We’re going to assemble as many people in the park as we can to call for responsibility, accountability, atonement and an end to all beefs.”
Crawford, 37, is not only an activist, he’s an artist who’s been rapping for more than 20 years. The Boston native began taking music seriously while living in Atlanta, where he released his first book and a cassette titled “Prophetic Visions” in 1996. Crawford said his message then is the same as his message now.
“Every single song I’ve ever released has, in whole or in part, been about beheading this beast,” he said of his battle against what he considers an oppressive economic and political system.
After returning to Boston in 1997, Crawford’s role as the New Black Panther Party’s National Hip-Hop Ambassador has kept him active in the progressive rap scene.
“I’m respected because I’m not one of these conscious rappers who you can’t find a revolutionary part of,” Crawford said. “If the only thing you’ve contributed to the revolution is a poem or a rhyme, then you’re not a revolutionary, you’re just a poet or an MC.”
In the past few years, Crawford has appeared on albums by Public Enemy MC Professor Griff, Bay Area MC Paris and Grammy-nominated duo Les Nubian. Though bitter about not getting props for his musical accomplishments in his hometown, Crawford is quick to dismiss local artists who gauge their buzz by how many local heads know their songs.
“For most of these guys, it’s completely ego-driven,” Crawford said. “If my goal was to put stickers up around the city, then stickers it would be. But that’s not the goal. I have a larger mission that has nothing to do with hip-hop. I’m here to save the ’hood.
In pursuing that mission, Crawford has ruffled more than a few feathers. Last year, addressing a group of residents at the Roxbury Family YMCA, he compared Boston’s cops to vampires: “They are polite. They’re smooth,” Crawford said. “But once they get in, the door closes and havoc ensues.”
But Crawford doesn’t blame the police and City Hall for the problems plaguing inner-city neighborhoods.
“The problems in the ’hood have everything to do with us and nothing to do with them,” he said. “They can only do to us what we allow to be done. That’s what this march is all about: teaching responsibility.”
As for anyone who wants to challenge his ideas, Crawford invites dialogue, while delivering a warning.
“You can love me or hate me,” he said, “but don’t debate me.”
