My Mother Taught Me To Make A Home of Hip Hop

Growing up my mother and I lived by our dollar store Tinker Bell calendar tacked to the kitchen wall. It told us when school was canceled, when bills were due, and when money came in. No moves got made without consulting our calendar first. Each month Mommy filled in the important weekends and times to keep us on track. Quickly the weeks got filled in with blue and black pen marking out our every move. Each year without fail she circled March 9th in black sharpie. It was our day of mourning. It was on March 9th, 1997 when my mother lost one of her best friends, Christopher Wallace--aka The Notorious B.I.G.

Now my mother never met Biggie, but she knew him well. They bonded over snare drums and high hats and ad libs. During the aftermath of her parent’s divorce and her sister’s battle with addiction, my mother found a home in his albums. It was her safe space. She made a home out of Biggie's albums. While I was growing up my mother let me into that home she built of his lyrics. He was not just a rapper in our house. He was the rapper. His bars held weight with my mother whose music rotation usually restricted to neo-soul and R&B.

My mother’s relationship with Biggie Smalls showed me the strength of hip-hop. It wasn’t just music because music is never just anything. It was about finding our peace, our way and making homes of our favorite songs. The pillars of hip-hop, our icons, are timeless. Their words transcend time and mortality because their messages live on. These stories are our modern day griots telling tales of Blackness across the Diaspora.

As I got older I made my own homes of my favorite artists. When I had no words they lift me up. The words of  Lauryn Hill, Noname, and (much to my mother’s dismay) Tupac tell stories that move generations. Their lyrics tell stories of streets I am surrounded by. They give a voice to everything teachers, administrators, and respectability told me I couldn’t say.

To this day I thank my mother for teaching me to make a home of hip hop. In the bars I see myself and my life. I piece together my childhood and make sense of it all over masterful production.