I Had a Dream

So, call me crazy, and you might be telling the truth. But I've had this idea germinating for a while, and I have to believe it has merit. Just listen for a bit, and maybe you'll be believer, too.

Most people and most things have to hit rock bottom before they get better. Of course, the other consequence of hitting bottom is never standing again. But this is an optimistic view, and it's got wings. Let's fly together.

Two particular elements of what might be called "Black Culture" currently face a national crisis. It might sound melodramatic, but these are two art forms which have had indisputable influence within the community and beyond it for centuries. I'm talking about music and literature, and specifically about what is now called Hip Hop and the genre known as Street Lit. The paradigm is concurrent for Hip Hop (Lit); as the market grows, the mentality narrows, until it becomes a caricature of itself. It sounds harmless, and people may argue that at least 'black teens are reading' and at least 'they are making money legally'. But I beg to differ. So much, in fact, that my knees are kinda ashy.

This is a topic that I feel obligated to treat with kid gloves, because it may make me sound fuddy-duddy and like one of those back in the day types who mumble about how nothing's any good anymore. While it isn't, in the most obvious sense, that doesn't mean we're doomed. This, too, shall pass. But right now, we are in a crisis, and based on the popularity of music about lip gloss and Superman and books glorifying--if not glamorizing--street life, the hands of those who know better are handcuffed and tied. You can't tell the covers of CDs from the covers of the books; the books themselves read like hottest singles in rotation. None of it is saying anything worth listening. And it's all repetitive drivel.

Anticipating the response I'd get to that, I know, I don't have to listen or read. And worry not, because I don't. I refuse. But I refuse to give up hope.

Why is it such a big deal, you ask? Well, mainstream America has a time-tested pattern of pigeon-holing brown people. Not only pigeon-holing artists, actors, singers, rappers, and writers, but the everyday people who live here too. The way we allow ourselves to be portrayed in the media--hell, the way we sometimes portray ourselves--is giving the rest of the world license to believe we are all like that. I'm nervous about saying "Black Culture" in the first place, because it cannot be defined anymore than it can be confined. However, when the biggest sellers in film, music and "literature" are only movies and stories (and plays!!!) with cardboard box characters and mindless lyrics about sex, drugs, guns, and gettin' dat money, these hot-sellers eclipse the other folks and their talent. It also means--if you'll step out of context with me--that I can walk into a bar or lounge, and some guy who is not ::ahem:: my color, looks at me thinking I'm easy enough to spread 'em because everywhere you look the girls who look like me are all doing it. Sound far fetched? It just hasn't happened to you yet. The artists with something to say have to fight harder to stay on the shelves and in the box office (I know, I've expanded from music and books, but it's all related, with rappers acting and such). And sometimes the best comes in last.

I was watching the movie Talk to Me a few nights ago, and Dewey Hughes' character said something poignant. He told Vernell that he learned everything from watching the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson and watching the show taught him that there was a world beyond the projects he'd grown up in. That's what media is supposed to do. And I'm afraid What's Hot Now is doing just the opposite. It's not taking us to new worlds, but giving us a tour of the same old. I don't fit into the worlds these "artists" are creating; I just can't relate, and I won't pander to their mentality by pretending I do. My guess is that there are thousands like me out there whose skin flips inside out when they're at the music shelves and reading bestseller lists, people who want more. I hope they, like me, are not ashamed of saying so.

I'm not ashamed because I have hope. This madness will end soon. I am not a fortune teller, so I can't say when it will end, but that I know it will. Everything gets worse before it gets better. There are people out there working on their masterpieces, and there are publishers and music execs who likewise, are looking for those masterpieces. So I hope that when my fellow writer friends (and myself) come out with fresh new stories about multi-dimensional people, and rappers/singers who can can make you use your head while you're noddin' it drop their CD, that all of us who know what's good will be in line to buy. Soon the New Day, y'all. Soon!