What the Bleep do Townes Van Zandt and Steve Earle have to do with HIp Hop?

This past weekend I was fortunate enough to attend and participate in a small, but groundbreaking, event in Denver called "What the Bleep Happened to Hip Hop?" -- a new alliance with MovetoAmend and Hip Hop Congress.

I went into this under the impression that Hip Hop was loud, angry music about ho's, drugs, and violence. I have since been schooled that I was completely and utterly mistaken. That's what they want us to think; "us" being white, middle-aged Americans. I even said in the opening introductions that as a schoolteacher, I only really knew it as something to be "tolerated." There is a strand that fits the above description on corporate radio, but that is only a small branch of the tree. Like yoga and it's many limbs, hip hop is very diverse. I met a group of beautiful human beings who care about their environment, their community, and their art.

They reminded me of another group of musicians that I spent time with when I was with my daughter's father and bass player extraordinaire, David Waddell, back in the 80's. David played for Townes Van Zandt and Steve Earle, as well as Billie Joe Shaver, Calvin Russell, and Blaze Foley. These guys also cared about their music and their art, while making a social comment.

During the two day event, the DJ's, rappers, and beat boys and girls talked about what it means to be a hip hop artist in a time when huge corporations dominate our lives.

I learned a valuable lesson this weekend about culture and community. I also learned something about prejudice and its implications.

I was listening to Mic C talk about his work with Afrikan Hip Hop Caravan. He was discussing his last trip and what he saw there. He described kids wearing big gold necklaces with guns hanging from them. That image exploded in my head and I thought, "That's what I am afraid of...?!"

Wow.

I didn't even know that I was afraid.

I suddenly saw this beautiful, sensitive man in front of me that cared deeply about his impact on the world. He came sharply into focus and this overlay that I had superimposed on him evaporated.

I had met Mic several times over the past year, but I had never really seen him.

I had seen my image of him.

That image was created by my environment and based mostly on corporate media depictions of rappers and African-American men.

I had unconsciously judged him.

I had been afraid of him.

I told the group about my experience. It was scary to admit that I had done this, but the response was beautiful.

Mic and I talked later at the show. He told me about going to Pet Smart and having the clerk not acknowledge him or even look him in the eye.

I felt so ashamed of myself, but Mic gently forgave me.

Blaze Foley used to sing a song about a lady who locked her door as he crossed the street. A houseless person, Blaze knew something about being judged for your appearance and affiliations.

The picture at the top of Townes and Steve was plastered  in the bathroom of Youth on Record amongst a wall full of Hip Hop posters.

Tears came to my eyes when I saw it.

We are more alike than we are different.

We just need to talk to each other, listen, love, and open our eyes.

We are all in this together.

Namaste' ya'll!

Watch Mic Crenshaw's TEDx talk. The content is very similar to the presentation I saw. He also performs and shows a clip from a show in Africa.
Listen, listen, love, love...