So I’m sitting amongst the old heads listening to their wisdom. “Women always have something going on.” “Men don’t communicate properly.” On the horrible truths of the sexes was what these two men and women rapped about in a circle. They were sharing life lessons of sorts in a circle of which I was part of.
As I listened, I heard some truths and I heard some fallacies. I processed the information and decided to speak. “Well, women do have something going on and no, guys don’t know how to communicate clearly.” Soon, I recognized the mistake I had made. Like a magnet, the old heads hounded on me and the surface of my philosophies by asking what turned out to be a very belittling question: How old are you?
Generally, this question is the first step to admiring my accomplishments or recognizance of my vast intellect. I wasn’t prepared for my answer to be a validation for how much naïveté I possessed.
By this time, I knew that mentioning my upcoming birthday would mean nothing to my experienced peers. I was already being placed at the bottom of the barrel. I knew my over-grown brain (ignore the hyperbole) and the wisdom I had put in it wouldn’t be noticed and slowly, I slinked back, away from the “knowledge” they were trying to teach me. With every fact of life being followed by a stab at how young I am and blatant disregards for my life experiences, I was pushed out of focus, away from the conversation, an outcast of the main event.
As I waved my metaphoric white flag of silence, Hip Hop slipped into my mind. I welcomed the thought, similar to how warm buttered biscuits and bacon was welcome to my stomach. Hip Hop, just the thought of it, could be likened to a warmth only felt when at home. It was peaceful. While watching the old heads like a window shopper gazing in the window, I realized how Hip Hop was as much of a “baby” as I was. Maybe Hip Hop and I are something like each other.
I haven’t been acquainted well enough to know Hip Hop like some and yet, with it I feel connected. A twenty-something in the world, Hip Hop is simply doing what it takes to survive, be loved, noticed and appreciated. In the beginning, Hip Hop was new, black and full of life. Youth was a good look for it, it was so innocent. As it grew up consciously, no one could match this outlet. An easier life, knowledge, love and passion were the keys to good music and great Hip Hop.
Many friends and lovers have come and gone and loved and hated, building upon the foundation that rooted Hip Hop and cultured it to be what it is today. Despite the support, Hip Hop has become a glorified project. A project with busted windows, rusted play grounds, squeaky doors, water stains on the ceiling and aging wall paper. The floors are old, the stairs are weak and its perimeter is covered in vandalism and piss. The creators, founders and keepers of this project are mostly gone and the others are either misusing it or neglecting it. A new top coat of paint can only fool us for so long and right now in 2010, we’re starting to see that paint chip.
Despite the cosmetics of Hip Hop today, the foundation is still there, ready to endure its reconstruction. Hip Hop, despite common belief, is not dead and nor is it dying. If it were dying, then its death would be metaphorical to signify the change it is experiencing. The bottom line? Hip Hop is ready to be reborn. After being broken down b y deadly rivals, the gangster image, corporate conspiracy and even the wave of the new technology, 2010 calls for a revamp in the way Hip Hop is managed.
Such is the life of a twenty-something. We are raised under our parents’ management and after that, we’re explicitly under the authority of ourselves and the law. Remembering our first lessons strengthens our roots, but with time, change is bound to come and with it we must go.
I sit back and shake my head.
Those old heads know some things but of all the things they know, I am not one of them. Is Hip Hop? Maybe not. Studying its history is healthy, but going back to basics is only so that we can learn from it. What have we got now with Hip Hop but a neglected project? If we continue to do what we’ve always done, using the same methods, traditions and styles, we’ll get the same results. We’re young, but we should not be underestimated. Despite our naïveté, we can still teach lessons to the masses, young and old.
-Written by Brytney R.
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