With a resounding thump, the bass throbs throughout the car, causing the machine to bounce and heave like an excited woman's bosom. The young black man inside grins smugly, seemingly deaf to the loudness emitting from his car's speakers.

Surrounding the car and looking on in unmasked approval stand an assortment of young black ladies of all sizes, styles and colors. All choosing to be dressed as skimpily as possible, they stand with butts thrust out seductively or jiggling breasts edging dangerously close to the outskirts of their scant covering.

They began to bend, gyrate and bounce, seemingly in copy of the bouncing car, to gain the attention of the young man inside. As they unashamedly display their body parts, fully clothed, chain wearing, kerchief or cap wearing males enter the scene, smiling and pointing to the sights around as they yell and scream into the camera that is recording it all.

A thirty second shot of a four-minute video of a popular artist who represents to many young people "keeping it real!"

Welcome to Black life real and in color. No longer do I have to refer to the many colored, sometimes gray existence known as my life that includes single parenting, 9-5ing and the in-betweens that make up my rainbow. Instead, I can turn on a video or grab a magazine off the stands and read about these celebrities and these touted lifestyles that have now become this reality that is supposed to include me.

Hip hop, the art form that began as a tribal-like response to the humdrum call of the mainstream, blossomed into a rebellious ball of energy that infused music, graffiti art and break-dancing into a way of life that many, thirsty for something they could call their own, clung to for dear life. Hip hop, an art form that birthed the Sugarhill Gang and blessed us with the Fugees, validated us thru Run DMC and Kurtis Blow and melodized us when fused with R and B into the icons of the art form, Mary J. and Faith Evans.

Hip-hop lived and breathed us back then because it represented so many dynamics of us. It was sexy like LL, funny like the Fresh Prince, political like Public Enemy, soulful like Lauryn Hill and fresh like Doug E. Representing all of these faces, it never turned on us and made us ashamed of who we were and where we came from.

Looking at this mutation today of an art form I grew up on and embraced as being me, is like being molested spiritually every day I open my eyes. Watching young people, those who are to carry on what it is we bring to them, is ever painful as I witness them ingest on the day to day this current form of hip hop that mocks their very existence. For, how can a young girl who chants in unison with a song that demonizes her womanhood grow into a woman who loves herself and that very essence that makes her who she is?

As 50 cent talks about how he's not "into making love", who can our young girls and young boys turn to know and learn from that being into making love is a lot more awakening positively then being into making beefs and warring each other which these "hip hop" artists nowadays are more apt to attest to doing?

Our hip-hop of yesteryear has become the anthem of today that is homogenous and lacks the full circle clarity of diversity we had before. For every Trick Daddy there are four Talib Kwelis and Mos Def's who are trying to get as much airplay to have their music heard.

Hip hop no longer wears the multi-colored hat of our diverse experiences, but instead, now touts the PIMP hat that is now the experience for some but the ideal for ALL. The PIMP counterpart, the HO is now the symbolic reference and ideal our young people idealize and place upon the pedestal. Even at her most successful financially, the HO image reigns supreme in the dress and mannerisms of some of our most acclaimed female performers currently.

Though we know that it should not be the responsibility of public images and music to raise our children, the reality of it is that the media images youth imbibe are some of the root factors that dictate what path they choose for themselves. If the current state of hip hop is at the root of who our youth are to become, pray tell what tree we will see bloomed in the coming years? Frankly, I'm scared as hell.

© 2005 By Afromerica