While it has always bothered me how many white people view people of color and our ability to be dynamic, it actually confuses me when it comes to Black people and music. As I said earlier, most popular music in America is rooted in Black music and culture—a point that Naima addressed at length.
NAIMA: Well, first of all, from a historical standpoint, Black music is the foundation for so many other genres of music. Or if not Black music being the foundation, Black artists inspired trends. Black music, rhythm and blues, true rhythm and blues, and some gospel is the basis for country western.
If you take the lyrics from country songs and just change a couple of little things, change it from a truck to a Cadillac or something, and put it under a different beat, it’s an R&B song, right? And there is a Black woman, Sister Rosetta Tharpe, who inspired some huge country and rock and roll guitarists. So there’s that. Gospel and blues also served to inspire, obviously, rock and roll. Ike Turner is credited by most people for having the first rock and roll song. And jazz is the basis for so many other art forms. It’s the basis for electronic, and techno, and house. So much is built off of things that were pioneered during the jazz era. So I just think that our music, our rhythm, our syncopation, our different use of style, call and response—all of that comes from Black people.
Black music is the foundation of American music, period. We created this sh*t, basically.
I may get that last line on a T-shirt. “We created this sh*t, basically.” Preach, pastor Naima!
Naima next spoke about her experiences in the music industry, which weren’t all that different from my experiences at the party I hosted to make my point for this chapter—the one in which I had to kick everyone out because of that Nelly nonsense.
NAIMA: So, you mentioned earlier that Black people often make better marketers because we have to be aware of everything, right? We can’t just know our own sh*t. We also have to know the mainstream stuff in pop culture, in marketing trends, in retail—whatever area we work in, we still have to know. So, even if I worked in urban marketing, if I don’t know what the top ten are—all Top 10 songs on the Hot 100—they’re going to look at me like I’m crazy. But nobody who is white and works in the pop department has to know all ten songs on the Hot R&B and rap charts. They don’t have to know that, but I need to know everything that’s on the Hot 100 and Top 40 chart. Right? So there’s always been that double standard that I don’t even think white people are aware of culturally. And I’ve tried to bring that to people’s attention.
In my career, it’s been surprising to some people how much I can speak to. I kind of like catching people off guard like that. There was a time when I had a [white] boss with me at an industry event and they played “Before I Let Go,” and he was like, “How does everybody know this song?”
You may have heard the cover of “Before I Let Go” because Beyoncé released it with her Homecoming docufilm. SHE IS NOT THE ORIGINATOR OF THIS SONG! Black people have been listening to it for decades. It’s by Frankie Beverly and Maze, and they have many other amazing songs. If you haven’t heard it, go listen. That is all; back to our scheduled programming.
NAIMA: And I was like, “This is . . . Every Black person in America knows this song.” Every Black person in the world might know this song. This was like the unofficial Black national anthem. He had no idea who Frankie Beverly and Maze was; he had never heard the song before.
And when, you know, the DJ cuts the music out so everybody can go [singing], his mind was blown, because it was literally everybody in the whole entire space.
We started singing the song lightly and laughing on the phone.
NAIMA: And I was like, “This is us. We would know ‘Sweet Caroline.’ We would know ‘Sweet Home Alabama.’ We would know the Joints. But you guys don’t know ‘Before I Let Go.’” I’ve tried to use my position to educate where I can. It takes some patience, and not everybody has the patience to do that.
Just as Naima and I had had similar experiences with white people in the music industry, we also had had similar experiences in high school as kids who defied our racial stereotypes.
NAIMA: So I definitely got called, like, a white girl, and you know, I was kind of clowned a little bit because I had to play some catch-up based on where I grew up. The thing is, Blackness is not a monolith, and the same can be said about other cultures. This is why it’s so important for young people to understand that they can be whoever they want, like whatever they want, and do whatever they want. Either way, you’re still you. Black, brown, white, whatever.
Of all the points Naima made, this point was probably the most important to me, because it speaks directly to the idea that people are who they are, and that shouldn’t alter their validity in their community. It’s important not only for white people to see that people of color exist in various ways; it’s also important for people of color to see themselves that way. To understand that you can listen to whatever you want, watch whatever you want, be whoever you want, and become whoever you want. This is why people support movements such as #RepresentationMatters.
That’s part of the reason I decided to also talk with my good friend April Reign.
April’s efforts to diversify the Academy Awards and Hollywood as a whole have been praised by celebrities such as Gabrielle Union, Spike Lee, Reagan Gomez, and Kamau Bell, among others. The movement has been directly credited by many as helping to usher in a new era of diversity and inclusion in Hollywood by holding the industry accountable for a lack of both.
Needless to say, April is a powerhouse, but she is also just dope as hell and has important things to say, particularly when it comes to people of color being seen as dynamic. Starting with herself.
APRIL: I think I have always been drawn to art in various ways. I say that, acknowledging the fact that my stick figures are horrible, so there’s no visual representation of that. I tried high school musical a couple of times, and that was horrible. I played the flute, and I was decent at that, and I was in band for a few years. But I have an immense amount of respect for people who can take something that sort of wells up and overflows within them and share that with the world. I’m always incredibly appreciative and respectful of people who are willing to be that open with strangers.
I think I’m one of the eight Black people who actually are fans of the Dave Matthews Band. Like, I truly do like DMB, have been to more than one concert. But I think that’s also a product of being a military kid. My dad was in the army, so we moved around a lot. And so, that meant that I was exposed to a lot of music and entertainment because of the different locations.
She is correct. She is one of the eight Black people on this planet who enjoy the Dave Matthews Band. She is also the only one who tries to make “DMB” a thing. You know how I’ve been telling you to go check out certain movies and music being mentioned throughout the book? Yeah, this isn’t one of those times.
I asked April what made her decide to call out the need for more representation in Hollywood through her digital movement.
APRIL: I believe that I was at the right place at the right time. I don’t let them give me too much credit for that because I truly acknowledge that I stand on the shoulders of so many artists and activists or artivists, whatever, who have been saying the same thing that I was saying for years. Harry Belafonte and Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee and so many people were talking about the lack of representation of Black folks in film. I just had the opportunity to say basically the same thing, but on a newer platform.