Growing up, I was an 80′s baby by default who, although a toddler, was exposed to each element of Hip-Hop from the breaking, scratching, and emceeing to the tagging and knowledge of the culture. See, my aunt and uncle were 80′s babies by Jay-Z’s standards (people who weren’t exactly born in the 80′s but ran the 80′s) and they worshiped the culture like it was a religion. I can recall my aunt and uncle’s weekly discussions with their crew about the latest rap beefs, the illest albums out, and the best moves to bust at the skating rink on Friday if the DJ played Eric B. & Rakim’s “Paid In Full”. They were my babysitters but I saw them as my teachers because although I sat in my high-chair with a iced oatmeal cookie and sippy cup full of Kool-Aid, I knew that Hip-hop was something in high-regards and definitely worth paying attention to. So I paid attention.
I would watch in pure curiosity and amazement as my uncle fell countless times trying to spin on his head and clapped with mad enthusiasm when he finally perfected his backspin. And he made me feel welcome, even tried to show me how to break in my Rainbow Brite shirt and fake Adidas windbreakers. Even as a youth himself, he knew that I was the future and that I needed to understand, respect, and preserve the genre that he and millions of others cherished so much.
As time went by and my aunt and uncle became adults, got married, had kids, the whole shebang and weren’t able to teach me anymore, the culture was still being presented to me in everything I watched, read, and listened to. We were well into the late 90′s but Rap City would reserve a spot for authentic early Hip-Hop with their weekly “Old School Wednesday” episodes, which was cool because it brought back memories of my childhood and kept me in tune with the culture as a whole, not just the present. The Source Magazine was all about the past, present, and future as well and young rappers would pay homage to the veterans of the game instead of compete with them like today. I’m pretty proud to say that I was apart of a generation who respected the life of Hip-Hop and helped it evolve into the flourishing multi-billion-dollar business that it is today. Unfortunately, I am sad to say that I’m apart of a generation who’s not exactly instilling the 26+ year-old culture into the next generation.
Today, as a full-grown woman and mother, I try to teach my daughter about the culture and the music I grew up on. It sounds like ancient history to her but I feel that she understands just like I did as a little girl. I feel like how my uncle must of felt when he took me under his wing and explained Hip-Hop to me back in the day. I love Hip-hop so much but know that one day, my radio dial will be set on the station with the “Smooth R&B & Old School Jams”. We have to teach the next generation about the culture, all 5 elements, and what it means, what it stands for. We cannot let our youth think that rap is Hip-Hop or vice-versa and we definitely can’t let the media sell them a warped, money-driven, psychologically disturbing idea of what Hip-Hop is. It’s time to get real and treat these kids like how the, pardon me, ‘old-heads’ treated us. I’m not trying to start a revolution or blame today’s youth for simply not knowing but like the old African proverb says, “Each one teach one”.
So next time you see a teen rocking out to Waka Flocka and Nicki Minaj, make it a point to tell them about KRS-One and Queen Latifah. You may not feel that you’re getting through to them but something may stick. I mean, my uncle’s efforts stuck with me forever and I’m pretty sure he thought I wasn’t listening. Will the next generation preserve Hip-Hop? The answer starts with us.
