Jordan Rakei’s first SXSW appearance was also his first time setting foot in the state of Texas, one of the few areas of the world he had yet to visit. Born in New Zealand, the international musician moved to Australia at a young age before relocating to London to spark his career. He’s since traveled far and wide, performing for and connecting with fans around the globe.

“We sold out a show in South Korea and when we got there, people were lining up before the gig to take photos, like proper fans,” he said, surprised by the country’s big crowds. “It was a seated gig which was quite weird, so everyone was very quiet, it was a really special night. They were singing along in English to all the tunes, that was crazy.”

With such a widespread following, Rakei has learned to study the tendencies of his fanbases in different areas of the world, which influences his strategy when it comes to releasing music. He often finds himself reassessing where his biggest market is, selecting singles that will best appeal to that audience in order to promote his album in the most effective way possible.

“I was sort of torn between Europe and America: Americans like soulful music, more hip-hop oriented, while Europe likes that, but more experimental,” he said. “Each decision is affected by what we think is our biggest audience. So we released ‘Sorceress’ first, and it appealed to all audiences in a different way.”

Set over a mellow groove that left room for refreshing instrumentation to float above it, “Sorceress” served as the perfect lead single to his recent album Wallflower, capturing the project’s overarching sound within approximately three minutes. Lyrically, it tied into the introverted, reclusive theme of the album together, as he tried to bring to light his struggles with social anxiety and its impact on his music career.

The album’s cover, a photograph of a young Jordan Rakei taken by his father, highlighted this theme as well and was a no-brainer when it came time to choose the art.

“I was about 4 years old and I was sitting on a bridge, and I was nervous of people walking toward me,” he said. “Me crying in the photo, it just sort of captures me being shy and introverted; that’s what [Wallflower] is all about.”

The album contained the most personal songwriting of Rakei’s career, especially in the form of a touching tribute to his late grandmother in “May.” While much of his music contains abstract wordplay to hint at the truth rather than express it outright, the song was more of a literal recollection of the moment he learned about her passing when he was only 13 years old.

“In those 13 years, we only saw [my grandparents] about twice a year, when we’d pop over to New Zealand every now and then, but it was still a really close bond,” he said. “That’s the memory I have, just them being amazing grandparents and always supportive, so it was just a dark day in my family’s life.”

Purely a beatmaker when he began making music, Rakei didn’t start writing lyrics until much later, and doesn’t think he would have been able to tell such cutting stories earlier in his career.

“The way I put words together, I didn’t have those skills back then, and I also didn’t have the content,” he said.

The passion that Rakei poured into “May” was fully evident during his March 12 showcase at the Elysium, which was presented by KCRW. Keeping his eyes closed while playing the haunting chords on his keyboard, he climbed to the upper range of his vocal register, filling the room with his melodies and connecting with the audience in the process.

Accompanied by only his drummer and programmed basslines from his laptop — which he affectionately referred to as Tom — it was a fantastic performance, although only a fraction of what he aspires for in the live setting. Rakei makes full use of production possibilities while recording music in the studio, and wants to accomplish similar things on stage, performing with a multitude of musicians rather than relying on a computer.

“With my albums, I can layer 50 things, but I can’t have 50 band members, because it just costs too much money,” he said. “I would love to perform with an orchestra 24/7, and have a choir as well. I’ve always wanted to play in a big scale, with massive production and big lighting, that’s the dream.”

Rising rapper Abhi the Nomad seemed calm, considering he was about to performing a handful of high-profile showcases at SXSW, fresh off the release of his critically acclaimed album Marbled.

“I remember back in 2015 we said, ‘one day we’re going to play SXSW’,” he said, talking over coffee at a North Austin outdoor shopping mall. “It was one of those ‘if only’ statements, and now it’s actually happening.”

Championed as Austin’s hometown hip-hop hero — a title Abhi accepts with great honor, yet contradicts his past history of constant nomadic travel — for the first time in his life, he finally has somewhere to call home.

“I grew up as a Third Culture Kid moving every three or four years, so I’ve traveled my whole life,” Abhi said. “Austin feels like home, I honestly feel like I belong here. They’ve taken so kindly to the record — they’ve welcomed me.”

Abhi is happy to call Austin home, but he currently stands on uncertain ground with regard to his American citizenship. After being rejected for a work visa, Abhi says he must demonstrate “extraordinary talent within the field [his] expertise is in” in order to remain in the country.

“The visa issue is overbearing,” Abhi said. “Unfortunately, only one in every three people get selected, and I just didn’t make it. Everything is tentative right now.”

Realizing how the success of his record could be a means of staying in the United States, Abhi strives to represent those who share a similar migratory background.

“There’s a whole word of [Third Culture Kids] that have lived the same way I have,” he said. “I don’t know of any musicians who are living that life, so I try to be a voice for that. I try to put all of these experiences into my music, because there’s definitely people who can relate.”

Previously “avoiding the elephant in the room” of his uncertain visa situation in his everyday life, Abhi now utilizes the story as a central motif throughout Marbled.

“The term ‘marbled’ draws from past experiences and life decisions you may regret,” he said. “Having your stripes and your scars are what make you the person you are, so acceptance is the overall theme of the record. I shied away from it for years, but I feel like at this point leaving out details is futile — I have to tell the truth.”

Wanting Marbled  “to be for all types of people of all different ages,” Abhi drew from his wide palate of musical influences when making the record – a fact that some see as an issue when attempting to categorize the album into a single defined genre.

“I want everyone to be able to relate to something on the record. I didn’t go into making Marbled thinking this is going to be a dance record, or a hip-hop record — there’s honestly all different styles of music that I love to make,” Abhi said. “I’m trying to make the best songs. I want each song to be its own monster; they don’t have to be tracks that necessarily tie everything together.”

Crafting music he describes as a “hybrid of a lot of things,” Abhi is humbled by the momentum of Marbled, and understands that it is only the calm before the storm.

“Everything matters — even if there’s 10 people in the room, you have no idea who those 10 are,” he said. “I feel like you’re always in the eye of the storm. You can’t stay in the middle, you have to stick your hand out and feel it.”

Upon his departure, Abhi articulated one final statement reminiscent of his holistic personal and artistic journey: “You have to make your own luck.”

This Tuesday, Robert Hernandez, a journalism professor from the Annenberg School of Communication and Journalism, will be speaking about the mythic pipeline problem in journalism at Austin’s SXSW festival. Hernandez, who began teaching at USC in 2009, considers himself a product of California before a digital journalist, and felt the need to challenge the disparity he witnessed between his diverse surroundings and the lack of diversity in the newsroom.

The “pipeline problem” is a belief system shared in many newsrooms across America, which argues that the lack of diversity among those in the media stems from not having enough qualified candidates applying for the respective positions. In his day-to-day experiences at USC, however, Hernandez sees plenty of evidence that contradicts this theory.

“There are a lot of people hiring in my industry, and still someone will say, ‘We can’t find a qualified woman or person of color for this job,’” he said. “I see first-hand at USC Annenberg that the majority of the student body at the journalism school is female. And we’re not an exception, most journalism schools are skewed toward female student bodies. So it’s a lie when someone claims that there is a pipeline problem.”

I ended up writing something to call out how people are saying that they’re hiring, and yet there’s this incredibly qualified student who is having trouble finding a job…I held them accountable, and a lot of folks responded.

Hernandez was inspired to address the issue when a student of his could not find a job that aligned with her specific interests, although Hernandez knew many people who were looking to hire young journalists at their companies.

“I ended up writing something to call out how people are saying that they’re hiring, and yet there’s this incredibly qualified student who is having trouble finding a job,” he said.  “I held them accountable, and a lot of folks responded.”

When asked how industries should strive toward inclusivity, Hernandez linked the issue to one of communication, and noted how he is pushing minority applicants to put their name in the hiring pool.

There is data that shows that women and people of color are underrepresented in certain fields…Industries or organizations as a whole should make a commitment to training, recruiting and retaining these diverse perspectives.

“I’m a member of the National Association of Hispanic Journalists, and I’m overseeing their convention over the summer,” he said.  “We’re doing a lot of hands-on training to empower Latinos to apply for jobs that they have historically been told don’t exist.”

Hernandez also wants to change the narrative from the inside, putting the pressure on media companies across the country.

“There is data that shows that women and people of color are underrepresented in certain fields,” he said. “Industries or organizations as a whole should make a commitment to training, recruiting and retaining these diverse perspectives.”

At SXSW, many of Hernandez’ fellow panelists are also being proactive about sparking change in regards to the issue. Nikole Hannah-Jones, a MacArthur Genius award recipient, helped found the Ida B. Wells Society for Investigative Reporting, an organization dedicated to progressing the careers of reporters of color. Lena Groeger has previously taught at the ProPublica Data Institute and Dan Nguyen is a lecturer at Stanford who specializes in public affairs journalism, programming, and visual design.

Thanks to the work of all the panelists as well as many others who are pushing for diversity, Hernandez, a veteran speaker at SXSW, asserted his undying belief that journalism, along with various other industries, will soon change for the better.

“I have hope for a more inclusive future in journalism like I have breath in my lungs, and I know I’m not the only one,” he said. “It’s not a new fight, but you can see from the panelists I’ve organized that we’re not waiting, we’re doing. We’re not reacting, we’re being proactive about this disruption. I see the future with my students who are women and people of color–they’re badass! The industry is going to evolve whether it wants to or not.”