The power of music is extremely important to our culture of human beings. Different types of music always evoke a different feeling and thats what create our personal genres. For example, in my phone I have different playlist in my phone one labeled “Party” the other “Workout” obviously the “Party” playlist evokes happy and a dance-y feeling whilst the “Workout” playlist gives a more empowering feeling.
Everyone has their own preferences, with that being said it is self explanatory. There are people who just like country while other like dubstep and they disagree with each other sometimes. Personally, I am the type of person who says “I like all types of music” but if I am true to myself then I lied. I don’t like country and I don’t like certain rap artist. I could be very picky with country and it is very hard for me to like a song. As for rap, it is completely different. I don’t like the ignorant rap music which talks about killing people and being ignorant towards lower class communities. I myself come from a lower class community, I am what most call a “minority” because my parents are from El Salvador. I proudly say I am a Salvadorian American because I have pride for both the United States and El Salvador. I also have pride from where I come from, born and raised in South Central Los Angeles where the 40s, Crips and Bloods are from. False, growing up I hardly saw the stereotypical gangs shown above but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t blood spilled on these streets.
I remember one night, I was sitting next to the couch with my mother I was reading Beastly and my mother talking on the phone. Keep in mind, my father is pretty active in our backyard at night fixing our cars, listening to music or fixing his job car to work the next day while listening to music or just relaxing with music. So we heard some gunshots and my mother quickly ducked my head down which wouldn’t do much protection since the couches were so old they sunk down leaving the back piece taller. Anyway, curiosity got the best of mother and she lifted her head and peeked up. It was on the other side of the street and it stopped. The night was quiet and we didn’t see anybody move so we calmed down. My father came inside and we told him what happened. He said he didn’t hear or see anything. The police came and interviewed everyone of us and we said “I saw nothing but I heard it.” It is better that way. After the police left my father told my mother that he was outside walking around the house to the lawn he saw the man running away from the killer. He was stumbling and thats when the killer finished him off. He was unseen because he hid in back of one of the cars and he saw everything. Days after the murder in my street, the a black Jeep passed my street everyday. Thats why we didn’t say anything, they were finishing off witnesses and my dad was one of them. Till this day, we don’t know what truly happened but hopefully there was justice for the mans death.
Maybe thats why I am very protective of my native community because I say there are gang members everywhere, there is drugs everywhere and there is certainly killers and most importantly there are good people everywhere. We are oppressed because most of us don’t make more than 50,000-40,000 dollars a year but we have each other. In my family there was hunger days and there were full days but through all these stereotypical assholes we are still people and we are not what the media says we are.
To me its a fucking shame that people won’t even get a chance to see how happy we are being minorities because once you’ve lived through the hate and shaming there is nothing after that that can stop you from being happy.
So fuck you ignorant rappers.
hei-speaks 