When I first learned that rapper Christopher “Cool C” Roney was set to die by lethal injection on (ironically) March 9, 2006, I was shocked and saddened. Like most Hip-Hoppers, I knew exactly who Cool C was and growing up in Pittsburgh, PA, I was quite familiar with his music. Even at 24 years old, I can still remember hearing the echoes of “Ooh, Ooh!” throughout my family’s apartment as my older brothers played “The Glamorous Life” before they went to a Friday night house party. That jam still gets me on the dance floor to this day, but i think it is doubtful that Cool C will never perform that hit or even record again. He is currently on death row in a Pennsylvania correction facility for robbery and first-degree murder, which could make him the first rapper to ever be executed in history. Innocent or guilty, I don’t believe Christopher “Cool C” Roney should be executed as punishment for his crime, simply because I oppose the death penalty. The death penalty is an ineffective crime deterrent and have never proven successful in lowering crime or preventing crime. Therefore it should be banned. It does nothing but justify the same senseless murder that puts men and women on death row in the first place. Pennsylvania has a long history with supporting the death penalty, which can be helpful in understanding how severe and unfair the death penalty truly is. According to reports, execution, as a form of punishment, in Pennsylvania dates back to the late 1600s, when public hanging was capital punishment for crime ranging from rape and burglary to “buggery”(in Pennsylvania at that time, “buggery” referred to sex with animals). Later in 1793, William Bradford, Attorney General of Pennsylvania published “An Enquiry How Far the Punishment of Death is Necessary in Pennsylvania.” In this document, he declared the death penalty was useless in preventing certain crimes, despite strongly insisting that it should be retained. In the year 1794, the Pennsylvania legislature abolished capital punishment for all crimes except murder “in the first degree”, making this the first time in history murder had been broken down into degrees. This was done in response to Bradford’s stance on capital punishment. After centuries of executing criminals, the death penalty was later declared unconstitutional by PA State Supreme Court in 1972. As a result the two dozen death cases in the Pennsylvania prison system were sentenced to life instead of being executed. The law resurged for a while in 1974 until PA Supreme Court declared it unconstitutional again. A new version was quickly created, which went into effect in 1978 and still remains in effect today. The crime punishable by capital punishment in Pennsylvania is first-degree murder, or premeditated murder. As you can see, the PA state legislature’s love affair with the death penalty has been a long one. Judging by history, PA legislature has never had substantial proof that the death penalty deters murder but they continue to make certain that the law exists. After I thought about Cool C’s execution I became confused and disappointed. Confused, because I thought C, along with partner-in-rhyme Steady B, was serving a life sentence without parole, therefore ineligible to be executed. Disappointed because I already know too many brothers and sisters serving life sentences who experience the perils of jail life everyday. I felt like it was bad enough C had committed a crime and was serving time but now he would die in a place that many liken to “hell on earth.” Unlike most people assume, jail/prison is not a resort. Many outsiders, most of whom who have never visited an incarcerated individual or a jail itself, think prisons are adult playgrounds for criminals because they can attend school, wear the latest sneakers and watch BET. However, that could not be farther from the truth. In jail, prisoners face violence, rape, racism, mental stress and many other daily dilemma in a confined environment they cannot escape. The risk of death is omnipresent and a life can sometimes be taken over a pack of cigarettes or even much less. Jail is not even the hardcore yet glamorized environment you see on HBO shows such as The Wire or Oz, where the theory is that if one possesses brute strength coupled with cunning intelligence they can survive in “the joint.” Toughness and wit aside, no one wants to go to jail. And for those who say, “I’ve got a good lawyer; I can fight the case”, I sure hope so. In the state of PA, which has the second-highest rate death row minority rate (second to Louisiana), 90 percent of the state’s condemned are unable to afford an attorney. And you can forget an appeal, kids, because the state of PA does not provide funding for indigent defendants. This is a lose-lose situation in Pennsylvania, where if you a wrongly convicted of first-degree murder and cannot afford a lawyer, you have basically signed your life away without a chance to fight your case. Also, considering the fact that Blacks represent the largest percentage on death row nationwide, one cannot help but feel this insistence of maintaining capital punishment by legislators is deliberate towards the genocide of minorities in America. And Cool C, if granted clemency, (the state of Pennsylvania has never granted one person clemency in its history of administering capital punishment), will have to live with the fact that he will never see his family or children besides when they attend a supervised visit nor will he ever enjoy the everyday things (driving to the mall, wearing his own clothes, living in his own home) that so many of us take for granted. In short, his freedom to live as a human being will be taken in exchange for the victim’s life taken during the robbery he was convicted of committing. Having one’s freedom (whatever your definition of freedom may be) taken away is essentially killing a person because you kill their spirit which […]

A visionary sees what is and what will be. Lives tomorrow in the present tense. Truly understands contemporary for what it is: temporary. Gordon Parks was a visionary in the truest sense of the word. A visionary sees obstacles to achieving goals and makes them into examples of how to win. Mr. Parks was responsible for so many firsts in his lifetime before succumbing to cancer at the age of 93. Born on November 30, 1912, Parks was the last of 15 children growing up in Fort Scott, Kansas during WWI and the Great Depression. Parks learned first hand about the need for attention and the desire to be heard. For Black America, in an era where our very existence on a human level was under assault on social, legislative and economic levels, Gordon Parks, decades before Cliff Huxtable and family invaded the televisions of America, provided a glimpse of us. He granted America access into our lives and experiences and introduced a level of normalcy to the Black experience that was previously ignored or blocked out from view. Not shucking and jiving, not waging wars with the hate that hate produced, not the victims of the White power structure, but as people. Citizens. Neighbors. With a $7.50 pawnshop purchased camera at the age of 25, Gordon Parks began his career as a fashion photographer in Chicago. He got his first major work as the sole Black photographer for the Farm Security Administration, an FDR New Deal construct designed to garner sympathy for America’s farm owners. He became the first Black photographer at Vogue Magazine and in 1948 he began his well-chronicled career as the first Black photographer for Life Magazine. His tenure at Life lasted 20 years, and was not simply token patronage. Parks transcended the role of photographer and became a chronicler of global struggle and poverty. His photo essays were legendary, most powerful of which was the 1961 tale of a poor, sick Brazilian boy, Flavio de Silva, which touched so many, that the boy was able to travel to America for a life changing surgery and returned to Brazil with a new home for him and his family. Gordon Parks captured the spirit of the activist without the anger. He understood the pressure of being Black in America during that treacherous time and was able to present it with nobility. He was Life’s eye during the Civil rights movement, a position that allowed him an intimacy that his white counterparts couldn’t match for obvious reasons. He learned to channel the rage of his youth into constructive endeavors. Outside of his over 300 photos published in Life Magazine, Parks was a writer, a poet, an accomplished essayist and even a composer, including “Martin,” a ballet based on the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. As skilled as he was capturing the lives of others, Parks possessed a keen self- awareness and an eye for introspection. He could look within and critique both himself and his people. He had numerous autobiographical writings and works, the greatest of which was The Learning Tree. Originally an account of his youth growing up in Kansas, The Learning Tree was published in 1963. Six years later, Parks became the first Black director of a major mainstream released film when it was brought to life in cinema. It was the first film written, directed and produced by a Black man. Critically acclaimed as well as historic precedent, it was one of the first 25 American films originally inducted into the Library of Congress’ Film Registry in 1989. Visualizing the realism of our lives in actuality.-AZ. Park’s genius at making the underground mainstream without co-opting soul and integrity was a tightrope walk that few have ever successfully walked. Perhaps his most stylistic example of this walk was the creation of perhaps his most popular addition to pop-culture-John Shaft. A shining example of Black manhood, Shaft (1971) elevated the genre of blaxploitation film. Shaft was on the right side of the law, intelligent, uncompromising, vulnerable, and masculine at a time when most depictions of Black males were drug users, and pimps, and the underbelly of society. Though the film was targeted for Black audiences, the production values were significantly higher than many movies of that genre and John Shaft was a rare three-dimensional characterization. He walked the line of law but stayed squarely on the side of justice without the righteous indignation. He was “real.” Seizing the moment. It is perhaps a visionary’s best attribute. So it is entirely appropriate that for all the wonderful creations and art forms mastered by this modern renaissance man, that his greatest talent and most acknowledgement comes from his greatest passion: photography. Mr. Parks was a master at capturing the moment. Freezing those most intimate, most important, most innocuous, innocent instances, be they the glare of an imposing champion, or a tear on the cheek of a crying Black child, was Gordon Parks’ greatest triumph. In 1999, Parks even conducted the famous "A Great Day In Hip-Hop" photo shoot for XXL magazine, which was in front of the same building as the celebrated "A Great Day in Harlem" jazz photo. He made us real. Human. Relevant. It was his greatest gift to our people. I for one am eternally grateful for Gordon’s gift of visibility and viability. Because of Gordon Parks America could see Black people for what we truly are – PEOPLE. We will forever be in his debt. Below is a list of Gordon Park’s various works. His accomplishments could never properly be captured on paper: Books Camera Portraits (1948) (Documentary) The Learning Tree (1964) (Semi Autobiographical) A Choice of Weapons (1967) (autobiographical) Born Black (1970) (Compilation of essays and photographs) To Smile in Autumn (1979) (autobiographical) Voices in the Mirror (1990) (autobiographical) The Sun Stalker (2003) (Biography on J.M.W. Turner) A Hungry Heart (Nov. 1, 2005) (autobiographical) Compilations of poetry and photography Gordon Parks: A Poet and His Camera Gordon Parks: Whispers of Intimate Things […]

A Hip-Hop Salute to Coretta Scott King: Continuing the Struggle for Freedom, Justice and Equality February 8, 2006 Across America and throughout the world, millions of people have taken the time to say a prayer, to utter a word of condolence, or to make some expression of gratitude for the living legacy of Coretta Scott King. Like the living legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Mrs. King’s life-longed contributions to the freedom struggle now stand as a living testimony to the oneness of humanity and to the transcendent power of God’s love. Today the hip-hop generation of youth inherits and appreciates the progress, sacrifices and remaining challenges of the civil rights generation in word, deed and spirit. In the wake of the tremendous public outpouring of support and solemn respect for the King family and the effective movement that they led, we did not want this historic moment to past without offering a sincere salute to Coretta Scott King from the perspective of hip-hop culture. In her elegant and dignified manner, Mrs. King lived the life of a freedom fighter in her own right. She was an outspoken leader who was not afraid to raise her voice against injustice. She consistently refused to bow down to the temptations of a world gone mad with poverty, war and ignorance. The poetry of hip-hop captures the essence of the continuing struggle for freedom, justice and equality. When Dr. King and Coretta Scott King were a young married couple, they both had high aspirations and resolute faith that “The Movement” would eventually overcome the evils of that day and time. The good news is that today’s youth have those same high aspirations for a better quality of life and a resolute determination not to be satisfied with an impoverished mindset or living condition. Now young people all over the world are reaching out to one another in solidarity through the music and other cultural manifestations of hip-hop that transcend the racial and social divisions of the past. The legacy of the civil rights era connects directly with the resilience and recommitment of this new emerging force for change and empowerment. We will not forget the wisdom and perseverance of Mrs. King and all of the other elders of the struggle. We mourn her passing, but we celebrate her dedicated life and example. We know the importance of speaking truth to the powerful in behalf of the powerless. May the words of mouth and the meditations of our heart be acceptable in the sight and presence of God. May God bless the living legacy of Coretta Scott King. Russell Simmons, Co-Chairman Dr. Benjamin Chavis, Co-Chairman Hip-Hop Summit Action Network

How does it feel to always have to be strong?  To be forced into a role as the calm in the midst of a raging maelstrom?  Coretta Scott King knew.  How do you share your husband with an entire people at a time when your life and the lives of your children are at risk? Coretta Scott King knew.  How do you carry on a legacy alone and carry the face of fortitude while losing your life partner, raising a family, and maintaining the will to carry on a fractured dream?  Coretta Scott King knew.   So soon after celebrating Dr. King’s legacy we are sadly forced to say good-bye to the backbone of that same legacy, at a time when that legacy is best on all sides by both his children, and our people as a whole.  Mrs. King has had health issues including both a stroke and a heart attack in the last year, but her image remains resolute as a soldier, forging ahead in a battle she may not have begun, but that she carried on dutifully in the 40-plus years since her husband’s death.    Collectively we shared her tragedy, but she would not allow us to se her pain.  She grieved inside so that we would not see a beaten and broken woman. But we witnessed the emergence of a leader in her own right, taking her place among the Betty Shabazzes, setting the stage for the Winnie Mandelas, and other strong women that would not be conquered by loss and adversity.  She represented a beacon of hope for our people symbolizing not the end of the struggle, but its continuance.  A tireless fundraiser. A willing participant in the March, she never ran from her charge.  She embraced it.   Mrs. King oversaw the transition of her husband’s work from a man to a symbol with much more range and outreach than he had in his life, while combating forces attempting to co-opt that “dream” into a catchphrase suitable for their own intent and purpose.  She lobbied for over 10 years to have her husband honored in that respect and President Reagan finally capitulated her wish in 1983, when he signed the federal holiday into law.  She gave so much yet always maintained the charge of her largest duty-her children.  She allowed them to grow up insulated from the crushing weight of the loss of their father and the intimidating task of making something from their lives that would honor his memory without forcing them to follow in his footsteps.  She allowed them the leeway to create their own path when the pull to continue down a path already tread would have been so easily understood, but impossible to duplicate.   Her crowning achievement, besides the growth and development of her family was the establishment of the Martin Luther King Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change in 1969.  Unfortunately, the facility is currently being considered for sale to the National Park Service.  The pending sale of the grounds has become a source of disharmony among the children, with two “for” and two “against” the sale.  However, none of that is a mark on the work ethic, the persistence, the fortitude and dedication of Coretta Scott King.  One of the saddest things about growing older, is that we, as a people, lose the giants whose shoulders we stand on.  Hopefully the vision she allowed us to see is etched in our minds and we can stand higher in her memory to see further.  Mrs. King leaves behind four children, countless memories, and her own legacy.  She will be sorely missed.

Irregardless of how much I happen to dislike many of these pop rappers, you’d be hard pressed to find me in the club these days. It’s hard enough to tell the difference between women with bangin’ bodies and men with bang-up operations in broad daylight let alone ‘in the pale moonlight’ of nightclubs. For those old enough to remember the first Batman (circa 1989), the eerie question posed by The Joker as his ‘prelude to a vic’ is one that we ought to ask ourselves: Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight? So many of the things that we live for in our social lives are silently killing us. Whether shallow souls looking for thrills and ploys or empty vessels looking to fill a void, we often expose and desensitize ourselves to the worst weaknesses and vices the world has to offer for the sake of feeling alive and in the moment. But what if such moments lived for were our last? As the music slows, do you truly know with whom you’ve saved the last dance? “Apocalypso” In the moonlight’s pale and cold darkness, Society’s lunacy fights to prevail over crosses. With nails woven in coffins – we dance daily with the devil. Instead of picking up our worldly pardons in sacrifices, We pick out worldly partners to enhance our flightiness… As the world turns into a hellish hand basket of frailty embezzled. Dirty dancing around topics of decency Emerges stances of drowned logic easily. Profound and immodest indecency manifests what should be fright. But instead, we prance around bonfires Enchanted and enthralled by raunchy desires… As phosphorous admirers sadly beget reckless boogie nights. Somewhere between Usher and Michael dancin’, We’ve plundered the Bible’s enhancement. We’ve ushered in less surviving chances with blaring disparity. But instead of fixing abhorrent problems, We’re transfixed with depicting Gomorrah and Sodom… Preferring transient fortunes like the bin Ladens – deeply invested in American charities. Too busy catchin’ last glances, our pillars of society Have crumbled into killers of sobriety. What’s left when sweat dries from a Dead Sea of dancing fools? Better yet, what was left of Lot’s wifely gaze When she let her hawk eyes sway?… Our walk’s been swapped with her life’s shame – as pillars of salt hold up the walls of our lancing wounds. Instead of contemplatin’ the last chance for happenstance lap dances, We ought to concentrate on being saved – the last dance is His. Too busy tapdancin’ on PC advancements, we’ve pardoned falterin’ lives from Christ’s shroud. As unsweetened folks become fixated with the Merengue songs and deeds Of unequalled yolks mixed in with the meringue of gay thoughts and themes… Gay trends inundate men like tsunamis as we partner with alternate lifestyles. Too busy Harlem Shakin’ and Electric Slidin’, We’ve let problems skate in with elected silence. We’ve let too many desperate housewives in – how low can we go in Limbo? Too busy vibin’ off good times spent And socializin’ in crooked climates… Our footing just slides and slips as we dip libidos in dosido lingo. Too busy Twistin’ in Sister Mahogany’s androgyny And respecting the philosophy of the Runnin’ Man’s misogyny, We’ve all but accepted misogamy’s mythology – it makes The Lambada sexier. Even those who angrily watch this madness Are intrigued by the plot twists that rock this world off its axis… It’s like tragic traffic accidents – there’s guilty pleasure in watching drama from the best seats to observe. As we sit back and watch this shift and pivot, We ought to opt to hawk these sickenin’ opera tickets – This play that’s being drawn out is apocalyptic – this world’s a sinner’s haven. If you saw fire burning in the field you were raised, Would you keep Cabbage Patchin’ while its yields were razed?!!… Is the appeal of The Snake worth the sealed fate that awaits the center stage of pagans?!! ~ ‘The joy of our hearts has ceased; our dance has turned into mourning. The crown has fallen from our head. Woe to us, for we have sinned! Because of this our heart is faint; because of these things our eyes grow dim…’ – Lamentations 5:15-17 NKJV © 2006 Reggie Legend Steel Waters, Inc. reggielegend@hotmail.com

Here we are, another King celebration has come and gone. Already removed from celebrating the birthday of arguably our greatest civil rights leader, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and I am still searching for our next one. For a minute, we all thought Rev. Jesse Jackson would be it, especially since he was in the trenches with Dr. King. But, as we see, he is not the one. His time may have come and gone when he ran for the presidency many years ago. Rev. Al Sharpton? Despite the good he has done, there are too many skeletons in his closet as far as some are concerned. Who will be the next one who truly believes in gaining justice and equality for all men? The so-called leaders we have today are only interested in face time and sound bites. I guess my main concern is the sincerity that is needed in a leader today. Someone who will do the work when the cameras are off and the microphones are shut down! If there is someone who will become a leader, he or she needs to know the work that is entailed in trying to bring justice to and for us. I feel it should or will be someone within the Hip-Hop community. Not a rapper or artist, but someone who understands the struggles that have taken place and will understand the struggles that are forthcoming. Despite what we think, we aren’t that much better off in terms of race relations and respect. The respect portion will be the hardest because as a race/community/culture, we can’t and don’t respect each other and it’s not gonna start until we realize that! The best examples are the music videos being shown all over the world. If this is the image that we portray, how can we expect others to see us in any other way. Despite what we think, we ARE judged on the music that is being placed out there. The ignorance in our music can’t be blamed on the record companies or the radio stations. We feel we have to give the ‘people’ what they want in order to make money. But the few that are making any little bit of money are the ones showing the most ignorance. What makes it worse is that our kids are growing up thinking that ignorance will be what makes them successful. It’s not intelligence that’s being spread out there. In terms of black music alone, all we do is talk about cash, b###### and killing the next man that stands in the way. How can we grow if our kids feel they have to kill in order to get respect? "No snitching" may be one of the dumbest ‘trends’ today where everyone feels that if an ignorant person is caught doing something and given a choice between what’s right and what’s wrong, you have to go with what the streets say. How ridiculous! Simply put, we need some real direction and we need someone or some people who can convey the right way for us as a community to make money, stay politically aware, strengthen our power and make people take us as serious as they do other communities. At the rate we are going, this conversation will continue to be what it is unless we take control of what we do and how we do it, we won’t be stopped. We can be leaders in entertainment, sports and ignorance. Let’s apply those same principles we seem to have when we are ‘on the grind’ or ‘hustlin’ and apply it to the uplifting of our community. And when I say the same principles, I mean in terms of feeling like you have to be on top and be the best and be recognized for it. Let’s be recognized as a community who won’t stop at nothing to be the best in uniting for the strengthening of ourselves.

Legacy. Something handed down from the past for the benefit of the future. Never has there been a more precious gift than a life laid down so that others may enjoy liberties you were denied. Such is the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. As we near what would have been Dr. King’s 77th birthday, we as a Hip-Hop community should truly reflect on what a gift that legacy was, and answer the loaded question: “Are we living up to the challenge of continuing that legacy?” The central question, I suppose, is are we leaving our culture in a better position to be a vehicle of change for those that come after us? Or are we leeching the culture leaving a useless husk in its wake? Hip-Hop has proved to be our salvation in many ways. Jim Crow has been replaced by the glass ceiling. The noose and the flaming cross have been replaced with media assassination, bathroom plungers and bullets from blue clad soldiers who fear wallets. Hip-Hop has become the voice of our community where the Black Church once stood. The voice of Jay-Z, who calls himself Jay Hova, resonates louder in the minds of children than Jehovah. We rage against the machine with a voice that is changing the globe. Hip-Hop is the greatest agent of cultural diffusion this planet has ever seen. Faster than the Crusades. More powerful than sports. Able to have children of all races refer to each other as ni**as in a single bound. But is that a good thing? Does the newest integration allow for us to continue our struggle for advancement? Hip-Hop has moved our young men off the corners and into the booth. Off the block and into the boardroom. From reporting to P.O.’s to being CEO’s. Unfortunately many have ushered in that criminal element with them rather than truly convert their lives for the better. The “keep it real kingdom” has gotten increasingly more violent and negative since we lost our own Malcolm and Martin (Shakur and Wallace) almost a decade ago. While we keep them alive with posthumous albums, we’ve done a horrible job understanding the mistakes they made, and that we all made as a community profiting off the negativity. Life ain’t sweet. We know this. The music is gritty. The business is slimy. But it’s nothing to die for. As Dr. King attempted to ensure our continued devotion to the ideals of our collective struggle with his legacy of sacrifice, so must we as a Hip-Hop community make sure that it will continue to be our voice, and our source for economic, political, and social advancement. For better or worse, Hip-Hop is how many people worldwide with no experience with people of color to see Black America. Not all of us are comfortable with that connection, especially the older generation, whose connection with our music and lifestyle adversely relates to their age. The older they are, the less likely they are to roll. So we arrive at a point in our history, where we are pitted against each other, for the favor of the collective, much as Dr. king faced opposition from the younger, more aggressive leadership of the SNCC. Both hoping for the same goals, Dr. King was more willing to negotiate, the young college driven SNCC leadership impatient and ready for change now, were unwilling to bend or compromise. Because of Hip-Hop, Russell can navigate corporate America in his omnipresent Phat Farm, devoid of suit and tie. We can make deals and money outside of the system. This is the freedom that we have sought for so long…and we are blowing it. Hip-Hop is a competitive field by its very nature. It is predicated on what’s fresh and what’s new. Lost in that search for new, however is the appreciation of the legacy of our own history. We stand on the shoulders of giants whose names we can’t remember, or choose to forget. Pioneers who dealt with ridicule and resistance when the world was “taking rappin for a joke.” They made it possible to have the Lex coups, the Beemers and the Benz. We should honor that legacy and that sacrifice, and not cover it up with ice. Vulgarity should not be the only reason for our prosperity. Lets make a true effort to honor that legacy. Restore that balance of Yin Yang, and leave this better than we found it. For the respect of our forbears, and the survival of those that come after us, let us keep Hip-Hop true to the essence of Dr. King’s life, and not some phantom phrase cooked up to politicize the man’s life. We are living the results. Remember, at one point it was all a dream.

“They killed the teacher!” said Snoop Dogg at the funeral services for Stanley Tookie Williams December 20 at the Bethel A.M.E. Church in Los Angeles. Rev. Jesse Jackson, Bruce Gordon, Minister Tony Muhammad, Stan Muhammad, Rev. Dr. Lewis E. Logan II, Minister Lewis Farrakhan and Tony Robbins all listened as Snoop Dogg brought the packed Church to its feet with a poem dedicated to Tookie entitled “Till We Meet Again.” One line that caught my attention was when Snoop said, “Food for thought is better than a meal.” This phrase stuck with me, because it reminded me of man may not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedth from the mouth of the lord and coming from Snoop showed a level of maturity that I wish his Girls Gone Wild, pimps-up-hoes-down, gangsta n#### audiences would adopt. And I am NOT being critical of Snoop at all! I’ve been watching Snoop settle his beefs with others, start programs in the hood for at-risk youth, seek God and denounce gang-banging publicly. But this is my point. When has a man done enough to be called rehabilitated? What must one do to be actually free from past wrongs? When is a man truly forgiven? I arrived at the Bethel A.M.E. Church to a beautiful scene. Several blocks before we got to the Church helpful, pleasantly spoken, informative Black and Brown police officers were stationed at strategic corners directing traffic toward the Church. When we arrived at the Church we were greeted by the Fruit of Islam (F.O.I.) and escorted to the press balcony. There was literally nowhere else to be. Even members of Stanley Tookie Williams’ family were in the press balcony! When this was discovered, Rev. Dr. Logan II requested that the first ten rows of people give up their seats to these additional members of the Williams family and everyone promptly did what was asked. The Church was so packed that many people were in another room outside of the main knave watching the proceedings on a huge flat screen television. When I walked into this room I saw Tookie on the screen saying, “If a man must fight, let it be to the death against the beast within himself. Win that battle? No man, no woman, no racial hatred, no system, no vindictiveness, and no Machiavellianism can ever defeat you! And then he said on behalf of the children; teach them how to avoid our destructive foot steps. Teach them to strive for a higher education. Teach them to promote peace. And teach them to focus on rebuilding the neighborhoods that you, others and I helped to destroy.” And I can’t front, I was renewed even in my own spirit. To know that one of the most significant outlaw figures in modern American history went from criminal minded to spiritual minded gives all of us (especially those on the frontlines of ministry work, counseling, mentoring and rehabilitation work) hope in the transformation of the human heart. That our work is not done in vain. I was totally impressed with the organization and security of the F.O.I. Hundreds of people was jammed in the Church with even more people outside trying to get in yet the Church and the whole block itself (Western Ave) was at peace. It was beautiful. But as beautiful as it was, the Church was still teeming with suspicion as to why a completely rehabilitated man could not be offered at least life in prison? How was Tookie (the co-founder of the famous street gang the Crips) who spent 24 years in prison, wrote nine anti-violence, anti-gang, anti-drug children’s books, received an honorary Doctor of Humane Letters degree from St. Moses the Black Theological Seminary, was nominated six times for the Nobel Peace Prize, and received the Presidential Call to Service Award from President George W. Bush for his volunteer efforts to help steer youth away from gang life not rehabilitated? There’s even an award-winning movie starring Jamie Foxx entitled “Redemption: The Stan Tookie Williams Story” that teaches the path of rehabilitation and forgiveness. All of this, in addition to his website and phone mentoring of young people from prison, and let us not forget his plea of innocence, could not have granted this man a stay of execution. He had to die? He was that dangerous to society? Well, no one at the funeral thought so. “Tookie is dead,” said Rev. Jesse Jackson. “We must kill the idea of killing to stop killing.” Remembering his own prayer time with Tookie, Rev. Jackson quoted Tookie saying, “I admit I was a predator upon my people. We were programmed to attack Black people. Whites were safe around us; I will not be killed for what I did do, but for what I didn’t do. I’d rather die than lie to get clemency.” And the whole Church erupted in applause and cheering! It was like they were ALL used to this process of having to lie along with the police and the District Attorney in hopes of achieving lighter sentences or no jail time at all and Tookie represented that person that never snitched or sold out to the corruption of the Judicial system. I’d rather die than lie for clemency seemed to resonate with everyone there dealing with an already proven to be corrupt California corrections/prison system. As Rev. Jesse Jackson brought to mind the fact that Charles Manson who is responsible for killing pregnant Sharon Tate and seven others is still alive in California on death row and that President John F. Kennedy’s assassin is also still alive, I was reading some of Tookie’s own words of transformation in a booklet that was being handed out throughout the Church. One paragraph read, “Its impossible for a discriminable mind to fathom the miraculous transition of a redeemed soul. Contrary to the popular misconception, redemption is not a biblical ethos, exclusive to saints, prophets, elitists or the holier-than-thou. It is of earthly accessibility through human initiative. […]

I admit, I’m not a criminal and I don’t know all the laws of criminality. Despite that, there is one notion that has domineered this year. In 2005, Hip-Hop and the streets demand that you all STOP SNITCHING. There is a website devoted to it, every gangster rapper on Earth denies being one and rightfully so. In the real gangster world and the WWF-like Hip-Hop world alike, a snitch is considered the worst. In fact, they are called rats – such a loathsome term! Before I get to the heart of the matter, this is my understanding about snitches (correct me if I am wrong): When you are a snitch, that means you got caught in a crime and tell on other crooks to save your own skin. A snitch might get a lighter jail term because he tells authorities about all the illegal things his crew does. Take Salvatore "Sammy the Bull" Gravano for example. He was regarded as a highly respected underboss for the feared Gambino family in the 1980’s. However, by the 90’s he became the biggest in history after he turned state’s evidence and testified against Gotti in exchange for a reduced sentence. Moving on… Now, from what I gather, there is another type of snitch loathed in the Black community. This rat includes anybody that talks to police or takes the stand in court. Although I have no opinion on Lil ‘ Cease, some consider him a turncoat because he testified at the Lil’ Kim perjury trial earlier this year. Cam’ron got major “props” when he refused to talk to police after getting shot in Washington D.C. Walking inside a court = snitch. Speaking to cops even about the nice weather on a summer day = snitch. Moving on… Lastly, there is another variable. 50 Cent gets dogged about being a snitch by telling his very popular tale though song. It just so happens that his lucrative saga includes the names in a criminal underworld (‘hood legends), relative unknowns to the world at large. It’s not much different from some of the things the beloved Tupac did in legendary, passionate songs like “Against All Odds.” I never heard of Jimmy Henchmen until that song and now he’s well-known and very successful. Incidentally, Jimmy is one of 50 Cent’s primary detractors and The Game, another 50 adversary, has a DVD called “Stop Snitchin.’” What’s comical is The Game is doing dastardly pranks on the DVD, in essence snitching on himself! (But, isn’t every gangsta rapper a snitch by talking too much?) Moving on… Here is the point: It is my understanding that Yafeu “Khadafi” Fula, one of Tupac’s original Outlawz, was willing to cooperate with the authorities to identify the person that shot and killed his homey (he was later slain). On the flip side, Death Row Records co-founder Suge Knight totally complied with street code and told ABC News he wouldn’t offer up the killers even if he knew who did it. After B.I.G. was slain, his close comrades like Damien Butler fingered people they felt were responsible for the rapper’s death (pause!). Nearly 10 years later, we as a collective still haven’t been able to heal from Biggie and Pac’s passing, because there has been no resolution, no justice. I mean no disrespect to Khadafi and Damien, because I think they are fine men. However, by the definitions that “the streets” have laid out they would be regarded as a pair of snitches. Right? Suge is right and they are wrong – streets say so. Now, I’m deficient in street credibility, but I believe the primary reason people don’t snitch, is to handle business in the streets. Police our own culture. I don’t see that as the case these days. When our heroes get shot, they come home to the adulation of their fans, they stick to the code of silence and many of them do absolutely nothing in the streets afterward. They simply don’t tattletale, for lack a harder word (and haven’t we been taught that since we were kids?). They just allow somebody to impose their will on them. If somebody does harm to my loved one or me, I have only two options. First, I can come back like “I’m avenging my brother’s death” or I can work in sweet harmony with the cops to arrest the monstrosity killed my peeps. But, I promise there will not come a time when I will do nothing. And that’s my dilemma. I’m no super thug and therefore and am not built for any long-term stretch in jail. So, that sweet vengeance shall never be mine. Big up to Shyne for not talking, but I’m not going to jail for another man’s crime either (I believe Shyne is tight-lipped to cover for another?). So, that would make me a possible snitch on two accounts. Fear not, streets…I am not a snitch! Why? It’s very simple. I’m not doing any crimes. Any of my homeys that do indulge, I let them know I’m not about any offenses (unless its writing bad articles). And I haven’t wronged anybody in a way that would make them do me harm, so I can’t get my Charles Bronson on in the name of retribution. Furthermore, I’m running the rumors page and I have left many-a-rumor off the page- I could be dropping dimes like Usher! I’m not the only one that is conflicted with this “Stop Snitching” crap. There is a no snitching policy that permeates the very fabric of our culture even though society pounces on these often misguided wearing these stupid shirts. Lets start with the police. Aside from Rodney King’s beating at the hands of police (which was on video tape), name a criminal case where police officer turned in another one. Didn’t think so. With this thick “Wall of Silence,” the cops should be the ones wearing the “Stop Snitching” shirts. Hell, we know that enough people “snitched” in the B.I.G. case to create composite […]

The debate over lyrics that promote the worst in our culture is an ongoing affair that we all secretly deal with. It can be difficult to define the line between intentions to either sound the alarm or glorify atrocious acts of violence. As such controversy drives what the music industry seems to expect from Hip-Hop, these two motivations have become blended together – drowned and shrouded in either the obscurity or bright lights of the center stage. Specifically, domestic violence has drawn such momentum and scrutiny. From Alice Walker’s "Color Purple" to Camron’s Purple Haze, misogyny poses an all too real threat focused specifically within African-American culture. But in all honesty, this cultural scourge neither thrives solely in ethnic distinction nor the Hip-Hop phenomenon. It exists as society’s underside as a whole that threatens our very source of life. After all, a bruised apple can’t fall far from the tree that’s been too ravaged to produce fruitful seeds. “Battery’s Not Included” I’ve taken a vow of poetic non-silence To disavow and correct a sense of domestic violence. The Palm Pilot I write with guides this as it strikes its latent surface. So to stop hits, I’ll drop this. When the cops miss, I’ll admonish… Battery topics are catastrophic when they break the circuit. Somewhere along the Alpha line Some primates crossed the alkaline. Some men are satisfied smacking and being rude to women. I don’t care how much acid she spits, NO woman EVER asks to be hit… No woman wants to match bruises of blackened blueness with hues of crimson. To operate relationships, the battery’s not included. If he stomps you into disgracefulness – such flattery’s abusive. Let me gladly stop the foolishness – real men don’t bruise or hit their better halves. And just so you know, that pink bunny he gave you Can’t excuse being a beating dummy to channel his rage through… As long as he tramples his way through – such kinetics can never last. Whether an internal bruise or verbal abuse, You’d best believe it’s still hurtin’ you. Certain brutes choose rudeness to influence their ladies’ worth. Undermining the treasure within women Un-designs their measure suspended in gems… As the extent of such men upends them with hateful words. Such emotional scars left run deeper than the physical. Such vocal alarms set leave discreet residuals. They’re completely pivotal as they load interior bombs set. If this is his tune – dislocate him from your hips. If dude berates you like a b*tch You ought to replace him by the pitch of his inferior complex. Even worse, there should be no quicker way to draw a charge Than when liquor plays a part in battery – small or large. Cell units should foster and guard them if AA’s part of their past. Alcohol only worsens the scenario As amalgam brawls merge with barley flows… Only sorry bros spar their souls’ match once they’ve left the bar smashed. Whether abusive drunks or unruly punks, These men should use a ‘rule of thumb.’ Though disproved by some – its lore should be viable for some. It states that women can’t get hit by a blunter source Than anything wider than a thumb of force… So whether she’s collided with one punch or four – she’s liable to shake, slide him and run. Sadly though, when females’ strength is beaten out of them With strategy blows detailed by heathens that pound them, There’s a power outage expounded by cowards who assault their worth. As they’re allowed to devour our brightest sparks, They sour our women’s timeless marks… It’s high time they’re tossed – lest they trample afoot the true salt of the earth. © 2005 Reggie Legend Steel Waters, Inc. reggielegend@hotmail.com

Victory Against Hip-Hop Profiling: Trial and Triumph of Irv and Chris Gotti December 2, 2005, New York City: The Federal jury that unanimously cut Irv and Chris Gotti free of bogus money laundering charges sent a tumultuous shockwave up the prejudicial spine of the government prosecutors who were confident that this latest case of “Hip-Hop profiling” would send two of Hip-Hop’s most talented leaders to prison for 20 years. After spending millions of dollars of tax payers money on the unsuccessful attempt to thwart and criminalized the global evolution of Hip-Hop culture, it appears that the government’s overzealous effort to take down Irv and Chris not only failed, but it exposed the extent to which some misguided officials will go to satisfy their “playa hating” prejudice against Hip-Hop. I am speaking like this because if there was ever a time that truth needed to be spit about the phenomena of “Hip-Hop profiling,” it is now. We all should remember that is took years of protests and legal challenges that caused “racial profiling” to be declared illegal. Hip-Hop profiling or rap profiling or cultural profiling is just as illegal as racial profiling. Hip-Hop profiling is defined as an insidious form of cultural profiling and bigotry. It is the unwarranted and unjustifiable actions, practices, and polices of police and law enforcement officials that target Hip-Hop recording artists, poets, dancers, videographers, producers, executives, managers, crews, drivers and others employed in Hip-Hop culture for surveillance, harassment, arrest, and brutality as a direct or indirect result of cultural prejudice, bias, discrimination and ignorance. What Irv and Chris Gotti had to unjustly endure and suffer should not be tolerated nor ignored. Government agents raided the Inc’s offices and many in the established media began a systematic campaign of character assassination and pre-trial hostile judgment against the Gotti brothers. The jury, however, in the face of a skillful frame-up, did the right thing. The case should have never gone to trial and Irv and Chris should not have ever been arrested because the government never had any real evidence to substantiate money laundering. The good news is that at the end of the day the forces of right will ultimately prevail against the forces of wrong and evil. One lesson to be learned from the trial and triumph of Irv and Chris which includes members of their families, Inc’s artists and millions of loyal supporters throughout the world, is that ones perseverance and determination to stand up and speak out for that which is right and just is more powerful and long-lasting than giving in quickly to what may appear to be the expedience of “punkin’ out” or giving in to that which is wrong.

A Woman’s Fashion Sense on the NBA Dress Code… I love a man in a suit! No offense to the short brothers out there but there is nothing like a tall specimen of a man, draped in something tailored, pressed and pinstriped. Egyptian cotton shirt and silk tie, Ferragamos on his feet – you just know that brother smells good! On the other hand, here comes the next man: baggy pants wearing, XXXL shirt, boots, doo-rag and baseball fitted to the side, iced up from his ears to his waistline and ladies are exorcist-twisting their necks to get a second look. Yes people, he looks good to us, too! The problem with mainstream culture is that they have yet to understand that Black people are just as multi-faceted as the next; though we may share the same ethnicity and culture doesn’t mean we appeal to one viewpoint. Why even in this new millennium we continue to be blanketed together as one people instead of looked upon as freethinking individuals remains a notion that is both inconceivable and a travesty. This is the very reason why I believe the National Basketball Association’s recent dress code goes so much deeper than spoiled players and a soiled image, but reeks more of forced assimilation with racist overtones. Surprising to the masses, Black folks remain extremely divided on this very issue. Some believe that the NBA is no different than any other corporation, and if it dictates that business attire is warranted, then so be it. But is the NBA really like any other corporation? It is said that the one with the gold makes the rules. In the NBA, the franchise players are the draw, and without these talented athletes, the NBA would not be the multi-billion dollar industry it is today. Although these players’ salaries seem enormous to the average person, it is a mere drop in the bucket compared to the wealth obtained by the team owners and the organization itself. One could not survive without the other. This sounds more like an equal playing field to me. In some form or fashion, no pun intended, everyone makes the gold; therefore, everyone should have a hand in making the rules. Let’s be clear: I have no problem with a dress code. The exclusion of specific items that have a representation of a particular facet of urban culture is what I find to be offensive. Once again, I felt the societal hatred of the Black man and everything he represents rear its ugly head, and even in a profession where Black men dominate physically, they must be reminded of their place. The dress code substantiates that ever-present White superiority complex that comes with the fear of the Black urban male – that “look” that deems him a thug, instead of one who may have beat insurmountable odds to get to such a pivotal point in life. Considering the past circumstances of some professional basketball players, the fact that they even reach adulthood should be applauded. Track suit or tailored suit, I know I wouldn’t feel threatened if Allen Iverson was in the ATM vestibule with me, or walking toward me on a dark street. Would you? And in the indictment era of Ken Lay, Dennis Kozlowski, Tom DeLay and Scooter Libby to name a few, it has become imminently clear that thugs wear suits, too. Who was more dapper than John Gotti? Sadly, I question if we should feel sorry for or respect this new breed of athlete. Gone are the days of Muhammad Ali, who was stripped of his title during his peak boxing years because of his refusal to fight what he believed to be an unjust war. Or Tommie Smith and John Carlos, who threw their black gloved fists in the air during the 1968 Olympics in protest of racism in America. These were athletes who took a stand at their own personal expense. Unfortunately it seems as if the high salaries earned by the modern black athlete is more representative of “p###########” money than for their considerable talent and personal empowerment. Where would the NBA be if the franchise players joined in solidarity and refused to play another game until their rights as men of color were respected? This is about more than the clothes they choose to wear or how they choose to address each other – it is their character and dignity that is being questioned. I feel like Ashton Kucher is going to jump out any minute in a David Stern suit: “Player – you just been punk’d.”

Dear Mixshow/Mixtape DJ Family, We’ve got a serious problem within the DJ community and we’re going to have to find a way to solve quick because we’ve got more pressing matters than the issue I’m about to address. First things first, effective immediately, I am officially withdrawing my affiliations with The Core DJs & The Shadyville DJs. Be it known that there is absolutely NO BEEF or ANIMOSITY toward either organization. I have the utmost respect and gratitude for Tony Neal (The Core) & Whoo Kid & John Monopoly (Shadyville). If there is anything I can do as an INDIVIDUAL for any of you feel free to reach out. I’m still DJ Impact, I’m still here, I’m still the same guy. Well last night after receiving a reminder to the brewing issue within the DJ community I sat and thought about the following: Most mixshow DJ do not have health insurance Mixshow DJs are usually the least paid and the first to be let go at their stations when the numbers are down and the budgets get tight. It’s still illegal for Mixtape DJs to sell mixtapes because the RIAA considers them bootleggers. There’s a lot of cats undercutting & throwing each under the bus for the few mixer/mixtape slots that are out there. For the DJ coalitions, some set out to fix that, but are we accomplishing that mission? Right now, all I personally see it as is another reason for tension within the DJ community. The tension is wide-ranging. "I can’t get down with so and so, he’s a Pitbull." "I can’t be on the bill for that show with him – he’s a Heavyhitter." "I can’t publicly show my support for him, he’s in the Core." "I’m not playing her record, she shouted out all the other DJ crews in her album credits except the Violators." "I can’t let you be my tour DJ, the Hittmen might not play my record." "I can’t support your event, the Superfriends might feel I didn’t show them the same love." "Why you let them be down with our crew if they are still in that crew." And I could go on and on. But I’m here to tell you, family, it needs to stop cause it’s stupid as hell. We sit around as DJs and complain that we’re tired of the dis records rappers make and about the hip-hop beef but here we sit as the gatekeepers to the ears of the people and we’re running around have DJ crew beef. What part of the game is that? Fam, I can’t be apart of that confusion anymore. I’m DJ Impact. I make mixtapes, I do mixshows, I consult A&Rs, and I promote a concert or two every now and then when I feel like it. That’s what I do. I’m about the music. I get paid to do something that I love. Without a boss, without anyone telling me what or how to believe, or who to associate with. And I’m not about to start doing anything differently. I sat down last night, had a brief "What Would Jam Master Jay" advise me to do session (those that know my history know the meaning behind that) and this is what we came up with. I’m about being the best DJ that I can be and I always strive to do it honorably. And, on my own merits. No affiliation or crew will change my abilities. Core DJs, Shadyville DJs, Pitbulls, Heavyhitters, Violators, Aphilliates, Hittmen, Soul Selectors, Bum Squad DJs, and any crew that I missed (right now a DJ is sitting there saying…|”Yo he didn’t mention us!”) please find a way to sit down on one accord and try to come with ways to bring the DJ community together rather father apart. As DJs we all have the same common goal of GIVING THE PEOPLE GOOD QUALITY MUSIC. Let’s focus on that and making sure we work to make sure the DJ continues to get just due in the hip-hop legacy. With Love & Respect, I.M.P.A.C.T. DJ Impact

While there had been numerous atrocities and injustices such as the murder of Emmett Till up to and preceding 1955, December 1st became an active catalyst to a movement that forever changed the plight of American culture. Who would’ve thought that the simple act of remaining seated on a segregated bus would come to, ironically, stand for so much?!! Rosa Parks is evidence manifest that when we as a people have our principles, spirit and character properly aligned – each of us has the potential to do incredible things for the betterment of society. So to modern day icons that tend to downplay or disbelieve their influence, I challenge them to look at the seemingly inconsequential actions of Rosa Parks. And to the average person who feels that their deeds go unnoticed or have no affect, be encouraged – your spirit and resolve may be the next evolution needed for a change that has yet to come. In Memoriam: Rosa Louise McCauley Parks February 4, 1913 – October 24, 2005 “A Meadowlark’s Benchmark” From a birthplace of immaculate dust, we rode from afar To have our worth placed to the back of the bus corroded and marred. We were sold as sub par within a nation based on stolen legacies. From the word ‘race’ we condoned a postponed start Where our first places were shots thrown in the dark… Yet from such throes came a spark that molded our destiny. From the lower mezzanine, there arose an art Of a Renaissance with rose watermarks. With light shone through its arch, segregated tones could now resonate. So as the waves from ground zero marched, The promenade of a walkway was paved upon golden tarp… Emboldened and stark, this road still boldly legislates. At the designated center for this noble chart Grows the relevant nature and splendor of Rosa Parks. She is the literal rose that barged the surface of racist pavements. Her weary bones evoked a charge For both a local and global cause… As she razed, rose and upholds the bar for validated anguish. If Martin King spoke and imparted a dream, She was the warm ambrosia that quenched its parched sleep. Her intro starts his speech – her ivy league spread and incited seeds of change. Her seat took a stand as a key role that marked Key strokes to disregard the race card… As her Rosetta Stone resets and decodes civil quotas redeemed and reclaimed. She is a noble and harkened meadowlark Heard over hurtful terms as we stroll through dark ghetto parks. Her notes invoked a park benchmark of priceless precedence. Her spirit’s outpoured enough soul and heart To keep the dreams of martyrs alive through echoed remarks… As we celebrate the repose of her charm so timeless and heaven sent. © 2005 Reggie Legend Steel Waters, Inc. reggielegend@hotmail.com

Do you know what a predicate felon is? According to New York State law, a predicate felon is “a defendant convicted of a felony in a New York State court who has a prior felony conviction within 10 years.” The notion of a predicate felon has everything to do with sentencing guidelines and if felonies can be included when attempting to garner additional time for a particular defendant’s crime. I had no idea what a predicate felon was; now I know. So the next question undoubtedly is why do I care? I live in Washington, DC; apparently this law does not apply to me. Well, I took the time to find out what a predicate felon was because I was beat over the head by G-Unit rapper Tony Yayo’s promotional team and the never-ending references to the title of his release, “Thoughts of A Predicate Felon.” The constant reminders to cop Yayo’s album caused me to want to find out what that particular criminal law term meant. And I’d be willing to bet I’m not the only one. There are a lot of lawyers in America, but there are a lot more people who aren’t lawyers who are very unfamiliar with criminal law. Unless of course, they happen to find themselves directly involved with the criminal “justice” system. Across America, there are people from 8-80 (actually, probably between 13-30, but who’s splitting hairs?) who upon hearing the title of said album, made valiant attempts to discover exactly what Yayo was referencing. Granted, it probably had less to do with the want for education and more to do with his affiliation with 50 Cent and the maelstrom that is the G-Unit, but education took place. In fact, how many of you are going to look up maelstrom just to see what that meant if you don’t already know? Exactly. Education is in poor shape in our nation; especially in the inner city where the students often rank dead last in comparison to their suburban counterparts. The gap grows even wider when considering the affluent private school kids who are afforded the opportunity to be in places where the kids seem to actually want to learn. This isn’t an affront to the actual teachers out there making a difference in the lives of the kids they are educating, in fact, I salute those who are willing to do what they can to inform kids of all ages. However, I do think the system and methods need to be revamped since apparently, they aren’t working as is. My suggestion? Find some way to incorporate things that kids actually care about, like I don’t know, hip-hop, into the curriculum. And for the record, I’m not saying bring 50 Cent albums to class, hit play, and see how many students can point out grammatically incorrect statements. I’m more or less saying that where appropriate, find ways to integrate popular culture into the way kids learn. For most inner cities, that popular culture just happens to be hip-hop. It isn’t like these kids aren’t learning about everything through rap and television already anyway. I’m grown, and I still learn new things by listening to rap. Sure, it tends to be crime related, but knowledge is knowledge, right? That is where the problem comes in. In America, and especially in black conservative and church circles, rap and hip-hop are often looked upon negatively. It’s very easy to find article upon article about how rap music has done nothing but bring down black culture through its misogyny, fascination with “bling” (it really pained me to type the word “bling”, I think I hate that word), and stories of ill-gotten gains through crime and drug dealing. And I understand that sentiment. But a lot of that comes from the most uninformed, yet highly visible, culture critics out there who more than likely don’t even actually listen to the music that is being prejudged and refuse to acknowledge that hip-hop could have any redeeming value whatsoever. I don’t see that changing any time soon, but let’s assume for a second that it could. In order to find new and innovative ways for teachers to reach the children who need the most help and who might have the shortest attention spans, there are myriad ways to use hip-hop. I used to volunteer at an inner city charter school in Washington, DC. I noticed that though the kids were learning math, a few expressed that as long as they could count, all this extra non-sense (at the time, the non-sense was Algebra) was unnecessary. Just as a reflex, I said that was the reason so many rappers don’t have any money now. Wait, all rappers aren’t millionaires?? Umm, no. Get out! What followed was an impromptu discussion on royalties, publishing, and bookkeeping. Admittedly, my knowledge is no where near good enough to get into intricate details of how the industry is screwing rappers, but it was enough to start a discussion on advances, paying for videos, and other means of generating money for record companies. Two things happened here: 1) they were listening; and 2) I drew a crowd. For some reason, learning about money, and hip-hop money in particular, struck a chord. On another occasion, while helping a student (who just so happened to want to be a rapper) who had no interest in me helping him with his work, I managed to get him engaged in a conversation about rap. He told me who his favorites were, I told him mine, and I told him to write me some lyrics, since he was a rapper and all. Somehow he did and I parlayed that into a discussion about being succinct and getting your point across when writing a paper, similar to how rappers have to say as much as possible in as clear and concise manner as possible when writing lyrics. Somehow, he made the connection and began thinking and writing his paper with my assistance. Of course, these are […]

It brings me the utmost pleasure on this day to tack on another homage to the countless barrage commending the man, the myth: Christopher Columbus. I have my own rendition of 21 questions and things that make you go ‘Hmm….’ (throwback to my man Arsenio Hall!) regarding his American lore. This guy, half-man-half-a-racist, has been allowed to exist in our minds as a hero of our times for so long, that to go against his image is to take a swing against America herself. And being that this is the height of the season for America’s favorite pastime sport, I figure I’m next at bat to take this country right out of the park. So get your bases loaded, ‘cause I’m swinging for the bleachers. Happy Columbus Day, America – it’s a celebration, b***hes. “21 Quest Shuns” I’m on a quest for information. In fact, I’m on a quest to inform this nation – I’ve directed a few questions towards the hordes of Columbus patrons. How can he declare the claim to fame Of a place that doesn’t even bare or frame his name?!!… Since he was into slave trades and date rape chains – how has his honor hung upon us for so many ages? So this guy’s the ‘Admiral of the Ocean Sea’ – Known as the ‘Great Discoverer’ with admirable, open dreams?!! Who could promote smokescreens for the sake of a racist? By his orders, a civilization was smote clean. His fleets’ butchery caused human souls to flow and bleed… Those left to bereave were exposed to VDs – what kind of men kick dirt in the face of a sacred nation? He supported the eradication Of a supposedly soulless, erratic nation. He labeled Mayan descendants as rabid natives and slaughtered them like wild dogs. He was a voyager for the sake of materialism. He was a destroyer with stakes in imperialism… That’s the truth of his surreal wisdom – shrouded in nautical miles of fog. This land of opportunity Always offers such awkward impunity For doctrines of lunacy written by aristocratic thugs. This is the guy who revolutionized genocide With strands of viruses too new to immunize … He symbolizes death epitomized and still receives diplomatic love. His behavior set the focal precedence For the Pilgrims to behead the local denizens. Boastful irreverence – that’s what this nation’s built upon. How else could we have one dope-of-a-loco President With doting voters so devoted to his reverence Based solely on his relevance for holding fake evidence in filthy palms?!! Both of them reek of deception. For selfish gains, both thrive in deceitful lessons. Nevertheless, their reckless sins are jettisoned by Patriotic acts. This country’s built on false premises. We’ve seen the lies – we’re all witnesses… We’ve all absolved and acquitted them – swept up in hasty, neurotic acts. The biggest overt misconception Stares us in the face of this nation’s inception – How in the hell could Columbus discover America?!! I’m not referring to the land being preoccupied, I’m deferring to the very name of this country’s lofty pride… Within its label there’s a hostile lie – his credit’s been flared up! If his quest truly proved the beautiful booty of this land, Then who is this Amerigo Vespucci man?!! Can someone explain the name game change of our nation united? Better still, was Columbus an Italian or Spaniard? What lies beneath this rapscallion’s standards?… Who traded the rug of his regalia’s manner – who’s blatantly lyin’?!! If Columbus really touched base first before others, Then shouldn’t we have been birthed from Columbian mothers? Should we be the good ol’ US of C, or extend the edges of DC’s measure? Forget that! – this cat used brute force to colonize the land. How long can wool blind the eyes of lobotomized lambs?… Something’s off with this pilot, fam – I smell leaks in the ledger. I heard he sailed the oceans blue in 1492, But I motion to move there’s more to the seen – we’ve been lied to! Someone’s hiding the truth – we can handle it, we’re Americans aren’t we?!! That’s not even comforting, that’s embarrassin’. Are we the result of conferred dreams or cruelty and arrogance?… We’ve inherited a melting pot of sweltering plots and experiments in larceny. But who would do this and why? When and where was the start of this lie? Should we spark an apartheid? – how can we discern fact from fiction? Something so obvious has been perpetuated for so long, That to test its station threatens this nation’s sacred resolve… What’s left unsolved desecrates us all – further unraveling our tragic condition. © Reggie Legend 2005 Steel Waters, Inc. reggielegend@hotmail.com

“Last night…last night it changed all…I really had a ball” On Monday, I was in hip-hop heaven. As I watched The 2nd Annual Hip-Honors on VH1, where rap heroes like LL Cool, Ice-T, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Salt-N-Pepa, Big Daddy Kane and the Notorious B.I.G were honored like kings and queens, I was locked in a euphoric state of nirvana for two hours. It wasn’t just the mere sight of them, their statements, or their flashback videos. What got the hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention were the breathtaking performances by icons that were in their late 30s and 40s but still had some hip-hop fight in them. In addition, and what cannot be overlooked, was that I was watching an example of Chuck D’s prophecy come true: the offspring of hip-hop culture had become the gatekeepers capable of producing this genuine experience through a corporate vehicle that was the culture’s nemesis no more than two decades ago. This was the moment for us 30-plus cats, normally battling the forces of time (i.e. kids, jobs we don’t like, etc.), to pause and relive our youth and reminisce about the good ‘ol days. It wasn’t all good, though. The late ‘70s and entire ‘80s were a frightening time for black teens. Crack, guns, Reagan – a confluence of events that, if you lived in the innercity, led to the development of your “hoodlum-detection radar.” At a glance – an enemy baseball cap, scheming look or hoody pull slightly too low – it went off, and you were out. Throughout all of this we had a soundtrack to our lives in hip-hop music, a music that captured what was going on in our world and reflected our feelings in our own culture-coded language. You felt like you were in a select club filled with tens of thousands of other young brothers and sisters where strict adherence to the dress code, slang and B-Boy/girl attitude were the necessary requirements for admittance. And in this club, none was more celebrated than skillful practitioners of hip-hop, particularly the MC and the DJ. In a time when Jesse Jackson was running for President, Al Sharpton was staging protests and Minister Farrakhan was scaring the hell out of white folks — though some of us recognized their leadership and even joined their movements — the rapper was our direct leader and we followed them with our ears, minds and hearts. This is what the honorees represented to many of us who came of age during that era. They were our peers taking advantage of a musical platform to define who we are and what we feel to the world. As I watched Nelly do a great job of looking like a miniaturized James Todd Smith, the Furious Five transform the room into a 1980 Bronx park jam, Salt-N-Pepa give today’s young women a clear picture on how to be intelligent and sexy without being reduced to anatomy, and T.I., Common and the Roots’ Black Thought recite (with varying degrees of success) Big Daddy Kane’s witty lyricism, I remembered how I followed and looked up to MC leaders then. I remembered how they gave me hope, food for thought, plus taught me some dance moves in the process. I remembered how the movie ‘Boyz-N-The Hood’ (also honored last night) gave an East Coast kid a birds-eye view of West Coast hoods and color-coded gangbanging long before Snoop knocked down the buildings, or the Dipset movement. My wife who is a dance instructor told her students, many of whom who were born in the ‘80s, to watch the show for informational purposes. It filled her heart with joy (not to mention doused her face with a few streaming tears) to see some of the dances she teaches her students today and did in the parks and in famed ‘80s hip-hop hotspots like Union Square and the original Latin Quarters being performed to perfection on the TV screen during primetime. It validated her experience. On Monday September 26, 2005, if only for one moment, it validated that experience for us all. Fahiym Ratcliffe is the former editor-in-chief of The Source magazine.

Let me find out that y’all are scared. The rap world is kind of scary these days. There are all sorts of animals running around the game – b######## thugs with big guns and huge entourages that beat people down. So fearsome! These thugs start wars and tear each other limb from Black limb and actually tend to obliterate all those that stand in their way. Let me find out that y’all are scared. It’s been high time that we looked at the current plaque covering Hip-Hop and call it what it is. While gangsters and gun-wielding rappers prevail in the music we listen to, it would appear that their sacs are lodged someplace up in their torso. And, here we are letting a stylish guy that dropped out of college represent the people of our culture. This isn’t another editorial praising Kanye West. However, on his Late Registration, he confronts a whole spectrum of issues ranging from governor Ronald Reagan’s alleged plot to destroy the Black Panthers to the “conflict” diamond mines in Africa to AIDS possibly being a human engineered epidemic. Now if you will, contrast the gangster displayed in West’s words and those that reign over rap, who is the “G,” g? Let me find out that y’all are scared. I smell something and it reeks of cowardice. It is not p***y, because women are by-and-large holding the fort down. This is directed directly to every gun-toting, super thug, hard-as-nails ass n***a that ever sold crack, got shot, grew up in the ghetto, had his mom slapped or his ancestors enslaved. For all the danger you avert in the hood, the shots your bodies take, the shots your guns expel and the Black punks that jump up only to get beat down – I think you maggots are scared. I recall a time when the “thugs” were the most outspoken people in the hood (think Ice-T, Ice Cube, Kool G Rap, KRS-One). These days, I recognize that Immortal Technique and David Banner are cut from a similar cloth, but they are a dying breed to say the least. I can’t hear you other mother f***ers! Speak up! Let me find out y’all are scared. "I feel like Kanye West is successful because of me. After 50 Cent, [Hip-Hop fans] was looking for something non-confrontational, and they went after first thing that came along. That was Kanye West, and his record took off." – 50 Cent, an interview with MTV. If there was ever a time for XXL magazine to give 50 Cent a Negro Please, it was now. As my idol Willie Dee of The Geto Boys would say, “Hold up, m#### f**ka.” For me, Kanye calling out George Bush and tackle the racism in media as it all pertained to Hurricane Katrina was more confrontational than all the 50 Cent beef records put together. To clarify, I am not dissing 50 Cent, because, honestly – I don’t want it. I’ve seen how he can vanquish a foe and I’m far easier to destroy than his smallest enemy. Nevertheless, I am anxious to see how these rappers can dispose of “beef” that actually affect something more than record sales. But, I digress; maybe there is truth in Curtis Jackson’s words. When he said “something non-confrontational,” maybe he meant “something of substance” or “something different.” Based on his velvety suits and fabulous ways, I’m quite sure NBC thought Kanye West was also non-confrontational or one of the “good ol’ safe Negroes” too. They certainly didn’t attempt to put any of the gangsta rappers on the tube and, I bet my next paycheck, that if those hardcore rappers were on that telethon, they would have read the script like the ol’ good boys they really are. Calling out the president is pretty scary, wouldn’t you say? Furthermore, it could really f**k up your money, playa! And, it is agreeable to most that the Bushes are more “G’d up” than every rapper on Earth. Halliburton, WHAT? So, let me find out y’all are scared. I admit – I’m scared. My name ain’t Bone Crusher, homey. I see what the world is becoming and fear for my future and that of my unborn kids. I indulge in some of the pleasures the music industry offers (like bootlegs and the occasional picure of Free), but I remain decidedly outside of the game. Why? I watch individuals become the very people that they once despised. I might hate myself now, but I’ll be damned that I become some other scumbag that I loathe. I’m scared and can’t even get motivated from those I should admire. MAN UP, I urge you heartless, hypermasculine soldiers of urban America, because I hate you so much right now like Kelis. What’s money when you don’t have a sac worth mentioning? Seriously, let your nuts hang, soldier – this is war and we need you to inspire the people. The people NEED Hip-Hop to deliver the truth, not only as we see it in the streets, but as we want it to be. Stop playing the rules that the game has laid out, color outside the lines and follow your soul – not your bank account. Illseed reporting for duty, sir! Illseed also serves as the AHH rumors guy. Right now, he is very scared, but you can still email him at ahhrumors@gmail.com.

As Salaam Alaikum, Imam Najee Ali In your "Open Letter" to Minister Farrakhan, you wrote: "Minister Farrakhan, in the spirit of brotherly love I am humbly suggesting that you consider postponing your current plans to hold a Millions More Movement March in Washington D.C. next month." I humbly disagree with your suggestion. Considering the fact that thousands and thousands of individuals have made travel arrangements not to mention the permits and logistics done by the organizers, I am sure you know (and knew before writing you "Open Letter") that the Million Man March Commemoration/launch of Millions More Movement on October 15th will not be postponed. In the closing of your letter, you sought to trivialize the entire endeavor of the Millions More Movement by writing: "I hope that you will realize that We need to all be in Louisiana Oct 16th helping to save lives and not in D.C. for speeches." What is your intention? Is it to publicly discourage the Black community from supporting Minister Farrakhan’s and other Black leaders’ call for attending and/or supporting the Millions More Movement based your personal notion that its all about "speeches" and not lives? Based on your trivialization of the endeavor as a futile exercise in speech giving rather than life-saving and changing, it is obvious that you felt this way before the hurricane struck. Are you now using these events as an opportunity to publicly promote your critical ideas about the March/Movement and its merits? If you have access to communicate directly with Minister Farrakhan, have you attempted to share your ideas with him? If not, why not? In closing, there are many people including many Black churches, mosques, national and local organizations that are diligently working to assist our brothers and sisters who are in need following the hurricane. This obviously includes many Black churches, mosques and organizations who support and/or are part of the Millions Man March/Millions More Movement endeavor. These brothers and sisters saw the desperate need of our people and without fanfare or public notice and open letters, sprang into action immediately after the hurricane struck. I believe that the lack of organization and coordination of Black spiritual, political, social, business, local and national leadership on common causes that we all can agree on is what prevented us from collectively responding more effectively in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina in the midst of our government’s gross neglect. This is my primary reason for saying that the agenda of collective unity or operational unity that is being called for is needed even more than ever to not only deal with the aftermath of hurricane Katrina but to effectively deal with the ongoing condition of our people. In case you have not read the stated purposes of the Millions More Movement, I would suggest viewing the following documents that expound in much more detail on the points that I have raised in this letter: 1) An appeal to all those who would be a part of the Millions More Movement http://www.millionsmoremovement.com/news/open_letter.htm 2) A Declaration for a Covenant with God, Leadership and our People http://www.millionsmoremovement.com/declaration.htm Respectfully, Your Brother in faith, Barnar C. Muhammad Atlanta, Ga.

As Salaam Alaikum, (Peace be unto you) Minister Farrakhan. I pray to almighty God that you are and continue to be in the best of health. You are in my thoughts because we are soon approaching the 10 year anniversary of the historic Million Man March which was held on Oct 15th in Washington D.C. almost a decade ago. The Million Man March, under your leadership and vision, was an overwhelming success. You have a legacy of service to black America that should always be commended and respected. Your contributions to improve the quality of life for African Americans, especially the poor and downtrodden who are voiceless, are well known through out the world. Minister Farrakhan, in the spirit of brotherly love I am humbly suggesting that you consider postponing your current plans to hold a Millions More Movement March in Washington D.C. next month. Hurricane Katrina is the greatest natural disaster in U.S history. The majority of Americans who are affected by this crisis are black. Thousands of black people are currently missing and presumed dead because of Hurricane Katrina. Minister Farrakhan, why not ask all those who have intentions of traveling to Washington D.C for your march travel to Louisiana instead, and have a Millions More Movement to help with recovery, repair, and lifesaving, efforts associated with Hurricane Katrina? If your goal of having a million people flock to D.C. next month was reached, each participant would probably spend at least $500 dollars on travel, hotels, food and ground transportation. That is approximately at least half a billion dollars. The reality of the situation is that the majority of black people’s money would go to white-owned companies. Minister Farrakhan, your teacher and leader, the Hon. Elijah Muhammad, always said Blacks must do for self. We all witnessed how President Bush and his administration turned their backs on poor Black men, women and children, and allowed thousands of them to die. We shouldn’t think about going to D.C. while our people are dead; many of them floating in the streets of New Orleans. Minister Farrakhan, I have left my home in Chicago. I’m currently volunteering in Louisana to assist our people. My father-in-law Imam Wallace D. Mohammad, the son of the Hon Elijah Muhammad, has instructed his community to help those who are in need, and this crisis is a top priority. I hope that you will realize that we need to all be in Louisiana Oct 16th helping to save lives, and not in D.C. for speeches. Sincerely your brother in faith, Imam Najee Ali Executive Director Project Islamic HOPE www.islamichope.org