Kendrick Lamar in the Classroom: How One Professor Uses Hip-Hop to Teach Black Life and Justice

When Temple University announced a new course centered on Kendrick Lamar, the internet lit up with curiosity and celebration. The man behind the curriculum, Professor Timothy Welbeck, quickly became the focal point of the buzz. This feature is based on his recent in-depth interview with hip-hop artist and educator Curtiss King, where Welbeck opened up about his journey from Memphis to Philadelphia, his work as a civil rights attorney, and how Kendrick Lamar became central to his academic vision.

Their conversation wasn’t just about curriculum—it was about culture. Welbeck’s life has been shaped by dual identities, historical resistance, and a deep love for hip-hop. Through his lens, the classroom becomes a place where beats and bars meet systemic analysis and generational healing. Kendrick Lamar might not have gone to college, but his lyrics now form the basis for one of the most talked-about college courses in America.

Roots in the South

Timothy Welbeck was born in Memphis, Tennessee, and raised just outside Atlanta—two cities that carry the weight of Black history and activism. His mother was a Memphis schoolgirl when Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated. His father, born in Ghana, had come of age during that country’s independence movement. Together, their stories infused young Timothy with a global consciousness and a deep understanding of resistance.

“I'm a true African-American,” he told King. “I lived that tension between being African and American.” These dual worlds shaped his outlook and planted the seeds for the kind of cross-cultural inquiry he would later bring to his students. His education at Morehouse College further crystallized those early values, sharpening both his intellect and sense of purpose.

At Morehouse, Welbeck began to see his own multiplicity as an asset. He was a budding rapper with a legal mind, a student of justice and art in equal measure. That balance—between academia, activism, and artistry—would later define his entire career. Morehouse didn't just prepare him to teach; it prepared him to transform the academy itself.

Finding the Intersection of Law, Hip-Hop, and Community

Before Timothy Welbeck became known for his Kendrick Lamar course, he was a civil rights attorney, an MC, and a man deeply rooted in community work. Those roles weren’t separate lanes—they were overlapping avenues that informed each other in real time. As a young man, he told his parents he wanted to major in art. His mother quickly shut that down. “You can do art in your own time,” she said. His father saw something else and suggested law.

That moment planted a seed. A mock trial class in high school revealed a talent for legal argument. By the time he got to Morehouse, Welbeck had declared political science and pre-law as his focus—but hip-hop was never far behind. Music, in fact, was his first love. Even as he volunteered in Atlanta schools and worked with youth, the beats and bars of the culture were always pulsing underneath.

It wasn’t long before his academic and artistic interests collided. While teaching summer programs for middle schoolers, he created his first hip-hop-focused class. He was just 19. “Yo, you could teach this in college,” his peers told him. At the time, it felt like a pipe dream—but years later, that very spark would evolve into a course that would capture the attention of thousands.

From the Courtroom to the Classroom

Welbeck’s entry into academia wasn’t the result of a long-term plan—it was a divine detour. After losing a law firm job during the Great Recession, he was introduced to a Temple University professor through a mutual friend. They were talking music—hip-hop and jazz—when the professor revealed he was leaving his post teaching a course called “Hip Hop and Black Culture.” He thought Welbeck would be the perfect fit.

The offer seemed surreal. “Ain’t no way you teach a hip-hop class at a university,” Welbeck recalled saying. But sure enough, he got the interview and was offered the gig on the spot. That was in July 2011. He walked into his first class a few weeks later with 27 students and a dream. It was his first time teaching at the post-secondary level, but his preparation and authenticity resonated immediately.

That initial section turned into multiple semesters, which eventually led to teaching other courses on mass media, race and law, and constitutional law. Over time, he built an immersive experience around his classes, inviting artists like Wyclef Jean, Freeway, LaRussell, and Lecrae into the classroom. “We talk about the culture, but now you can hear it from those who live it,” he explained. For Welbeck, it was never just about content—it was about community.

Creating a Course on Kendrick

The idea for a Kendrick Lamar course had been in Welbeck’s mind for years. For over a decade, he had used Kendrick’s music in his “No City for Young Men” course, which examined hip-hop as a narrative tool for marginalized communities. From Compton to the South Side of Chicago, Kendrick’s lyrics became a literary window into the systemic conditions shaping urban America.

But the standalone course didn’t become reality until a conversation with his department chair at Temple. She asked him to design something new, and Kendrick was his immediate suggestion. “I have a sample syllabus,” he told her. “I’ve been using his music in class. My colleagues wrote a book about him. I’m even quoted in it.” She gave him the green light.

The course was quietly approved—until it was publicly announced and went viral. “It set the internet on fire,” Welbeck said. He began fielding messages from across the country, including people who weren’t even students but wanted to enroll. “That tells you the impact Kendrick has,” he added. Not just as an artist—but as a cultural institution worthy of academic inquiry.

Why Kendrick? Why Now?

Welbeck makes his case for Kendrick Lamar with the precision of both a scholar and a fan. “His output is objectively excellent,” he said plainly. “He has 22 Grammys, a Pulitzer Prize, a sold-out stadium tour—the first North American one by a rapper solo.” But it’s not just the accolades. It’s what Kendrick’s music says—and how deeply it reflects the Black American experience.

Songs like “Good Kid, M.A.A.D City” unpack layers of gang violence, systemic neglect, and state oppression. On one track, Kendrick uses “red and blue” to reference both gang affiliations and police lights—capturing two forms of terror that young Black men must navigate. Other songs dive into generational trauma, faith, addiction, and the pursuit of healing. It’s storytelling as survival.

Welbeck compares Kendrick to Kobe Bryant: an elite craftsman whose relentless dedication sets him apart. “Every project is dense, layered, cinematic,” he said. “It’s art that meets you wherever you are—but challenges you to go deeper.” In an era where surface-level content often dominates, Kendrick’s catalog offers something rare: a reason to think, feel, and analyze.

The Africological Approach

At the core of Welbeck’s Kendrick Lamar course is something many outside the university system might not be familiar with: Africology. Rooted in Afrocentricity, Africology is the academic study of African people and cultures, with an emphasis on centering their own perspectives. “Too often, Africa is studied from the outside looking in,” Welbeck said. “Africology flips that. We look at Kendrick’s art the way someone like Kendrick might see it.”

By teaching through this lens, Welbeck ensures students don’t just analyze lyrics in a vacuum. They study housing segregation, redlining, incarceration, and other systemic realities that form the backdrop of Kendrick’s work. The classroom becomes a cultural mirror—reflecting not only what Kendrick describes, but also the historical forces that created those conditions.

Welbeck is intentional about making academic language accessible. “Academia can be so inaccessible to everyday people,” he said. “But if we’re going to talk about Kendrick, we have to speak the language of the people he’s speaking for.” That means reading journal articles and listening to albums with equal seriousness. It also means honoring Black stories, not just studying them.

Bridging Academia and the Streets

Welbeck’s classroom doesn’t feel like a typical lecture hall—it’s more like a cultural incubator. Over the years, he’s brought in dozens of artists, journalists, and industry insiders to speak with students. Guests have included Wyclef Jean, LaRussell, Lecrae, Freeway, and even Christian rapper Propaganda. The goal is to bridge academia with the lived experiences of those who create the culture.

That tradition will continue in the Kendrick course. Curtiss King himself will be visiting. So will Cole Cuchna, host of the critically acclaimed Dissect podcast. Welbeck is also in talks with TDE and pgLang insiders—including an open invitation for Kendrick Lamar and Punch, TDE’s president, to visit. “Anyone from that family is welcome,” he said. “They’ve lived this.”

These visits aren’t just cameos—they’re curriculum. They reinforce the idea that hip-hop is a legitimate academic discipline, deserving of rigorous study and cultural reverence. In Welbeck’s classroom, students don’t just learn about the culture. They learn with it—directly from those who’ve shaped it.

Facing the Critics, Fueling the Future

Of course, not everyone celebrates a college course on Kendrick Lamar. Since the announcement, Welbeck has faced a wave of online backlash, much of it from anonymous accounts. “It’s every day,” he said. “Multiple times an hour at its peak.” But he doesn’t feed the trolls. “I just mute and move on. What you feed will grow.”

For every hater, there are thousands who’ve expressed gratitude. People from around the world—many who never considered college—have asked how they can enroll. Welbeck is working with Temple’s administration to find ways to make the course more accessible. “Kendrick never went to college,” he said. “But now, we’re studying him in one. That says something about his impact.”

Looking ahead, Welbeck hopes students walk away with more than admiration for Kendrick. He wants them to understand the policies that shaped Compton—and places like it. He wants them to see hip-hop as part of a long continuum of Black expression. “This music didn’t fall from the sky,” he said. “It’s part of a lineage that’s been speaking truth to power for generations.”

Conclusion: Making the Culture Academic

For Professor Timothy Welbeck, this course isn’t just about Kendrick Lamar—it’s about changing who gets to shape academic discourse. By placing a rapper at the center of a university syllabus, he’s challenging traditional ideas of what’s worthy of scholarly attention. He’s also helping students connect the dots between music, policy, and lived experience. In Welbeck’s classroom, the streets meet the syllabus.

The reaction to the course has been overwhelming. “I’ve seen tens of thousands of people online say they want to take this class,” Welbeck said. Currently, the course is only open to enrolled students at Temple University. But he’s already in talks with university officials about how to expand access. That could mean digital modules, public events, or even open-access lectures in the future.

For now, those interested in taking part should keep an eye on Temple University’s Department of Africology and African American Studies. As the university explores how to open the course beyond its current campus boundaries, one thing is clear: the demand is there, and the conversation is just beginning. Kendrick may have once said, “We gon’ be alright,” but at Temple University, the culture is more than alright—it’s required reading.