Visualize me, an ordinary Caucasian male college student, then read this sentence: I grew up on hip-hop, and I firmly believe Tupac Shakur is one of the musical pioneers of the 20th Century. Do you imagine me as a wannabe gangster? An unintelligent kid with ostentatious diamonds in his ears and a snapback on his head? A misled young man who raps and thinks he's the next big thing in the industry?
Is that what I have to be because I'm white and I like hip-hop? According to society, the answer is a resounding 'yes.'
The Tupac-Coachella lunacy has become one of the biggest stories in pop culture this week; it's all over social media. Watch the performance on YouTube if you haven't seen it yet. In short, Tupac Shakur - who was shot and killed in 1996 - performed at the Coachella Festival last weekend.
Coachella paid a company to design a perfectly life-like 'hologram' (which has since been proven to not actually be a hologram, but rather a 2-D image using mirrors off-stage) of Shakur, who performed two songs (completely original performances) alongside very much alive Snoop Dogg. The two even had a couple conversations on stage.
Unreal.
The crowd hushed then screamed. Tupac rapped. Everyone watching online talked about it for days, and I was no exception.
What a performance, what technology! Originally, I just wanted to write about how it is good for rap music to have one of its saviors performing again. But then I discovered a more prevalent issue: people categorized my love for hip-hop as unfounded because I look like I should be into Coldplay. They dismissed my opinion. "You don't really care. What do you know? Shouldn't you be talking about Eminem or Mac Miller?"
I don't care for either artist, nor do I consider either (especially Miller) to be nearly the artist Tupac was. You might disagree, and I will respect your decision to like whatever music you want to like. I don't talk too much about music taste because it's pointless; it's all subjective, and I think people who get heated on the topic are arguing a moot point. You're going to like the way something sounds, and I might not like it. To each his own, right?
But this isn't something objective. This is an attitude, not just music. And it's an attitude that needs to fade away like Vanilla Ice.
When a white guy likes hip-hop, why is he supposed to act like B-Rad G from Malibu's Most Wanted? A lot of people seem to believe I have to conform to the stereotype for my knowledge of hip-hop to be ruled valid. I'm a cleaned-up Caucasian college student who dresses more like Barney Stinson than Wiz Khalifa. You wouldn't know from looking at me that I grew up in one of the worst neighborhoods in New York State. I was the only white kid in a group of 20-plus friends who hung out everyday for 10-plus years.
I don't go around boasting that fact when I talk about rap because I don't think I should have to. We live in a society that is increasingly accepting of everything - homosexuality, sex changes, etc. I shouldn't have to defend myself for liking hip-hop, just like Nate Smith (to my left) shouldn't have to defend himself for liking hockey.
It's just what we like, and our physical appearance has nothing to do with it.
Society needs to accept that black kids are going to like hockey and white kids are going to like hip-hop, even though the figureheads of those genres are of opposite color.
'Pac faced the dilemma, too. His most popular song, "Changes," fights for social equality:
"I see no changes, all I see is racist faces," he raps. "Misplaced hate makes disgrace to races we under/ I wonder what it takes to make this one better place."
No one should need to be a certain color in any situation for his or her opinion to be deemed valid. If we're going to continue striving for overarching equality in this country, the movement needs to continue among rap fans.
Email: aaron.mansfield@ubspectrum.com
