I am African American.
And I do not like rap music.
Contrary to popular opinion, I do not listen to it in the car. I roll my eyes whenever anyone around me listens to it, and I hate going to events where it is played.
Rap, as it was, used to be about struggle, about hardship, about the deeds done after driven by poverty. It was about the struggle of African Americans to attain a better life as a message from those who had made it to the ones who didn’t-to the ones that died- to say, “You made me who I am. I haven’t forgotten about you.”
Now, I believe it has changed.
I do not want to hear music that went from the struggles of blacks to music about objectifying women, senseless violence, drugs, and money. Do not look at me crazy because I do not know the names of rappers or listen to the radio.
I will not treat music that berates, objectifies, exotifies women and other cultural minorities as if it is normal and acceptable. I will not listen to music that speaks of women as if they are something to be used and then thrown out for a new one, or music that treats other minorities as exotic bedroom treats.
I will not listen to music that insists that women can be bought out, that out bodies are the playthings of men.
Let me state that not all rap music is this way, however the vast majority of the genre tends to be. I do not like it, I will not enjoy it- now let me do just that, and stop blaring your preferred musical preference in every public place. Because I can almost guarantee you don’t want me to blast Bring Me the Horizon.