I Got 99 Problems...and Publishing is 1!

 

As an almost thirty year old 7^th grade language arts teacher, one might think that I am too old to enjoy the profane nature of rap music. The curses that flow like water from the mouths of artists such as Jay Z, Eminem, Ludicrous, and Kanye may be perceived as a offensive to what is sure to be my sensitive ears and mind. How could a fine upstanding role model such as myself listen to music with such violence, inappropriate content, and down right rudeness towards…everyone? What is it about this vulgar music that I could find so appealing?

In a word: everything! But mostly the escape. The escape and the word play!

When I listen to rap music, for just a few minutes of my otherwise acutely appropriate life, I am a BAMF! That’s right. I just used an abbreviation of a very serious expletive, and I typed it on a laptop that was issued to me by the school. See what even writing about rap music does to me? It turns me into a reeeeeaal rebel. Look out world; there's no tellin' what I'll do next!

For the record, today was Free Write Friday- a day that I encourage and support my students’ creative endeavors and model the act of writing by writing while they write… that may have been an overuse of the word “write”; so much for being a shining example. As I sit and type, I try to lead by example- to show them that writing doesn't have to be a chore. It is my hope that by allowing them time to write about whatever topic they desire, they will become more fluent, more confident, and better able to produce written work on command. That’s my hope. Fingers crossed!

As for that darn rap music, I truly believe rap artists are brilliant. The way they think outside the box and take words and manipulate them to rhyme, give them a beat and  power- it’s down right impressive. When I listen to the lyrics of some of these songs, I find myself in awe of the way they control the English language. They misuse words (on purpose!), recycle phrases, mash up/scramble/toss these words in such a way that you can’t help but marvel at the feelings they derive.

I wish I had such brilliance in my own writing. Never would I want to be a rapper…well, that’s not entirely true; I think I'd look pretty cute in a pair of baggy jeans and a flat brimmed hat.  But alas, I am a wicked white girl from NH, so it is not likely. My only wish is that I can some day create prose that makes people feel as powerful as Jay Z makes me feel.

This weekend, I will be heading to Boston for my third Jay Z concert. In my stomach, there are tiny gangster butterflies with bandanas knotted around their heads and gold chains around their itty bitty necks. I am so excited; I cannot wait to get my swagger back!

**Disclaimer** I wrote this a week ago and forgot to hit the "Publish" button- classic airhead move. More to come about last weekend at Project Themoir.