“Let me explain how I maintain thresholds for pain/and walk across the sun barefoot looking for shade.”
(This is how last week’s blog began. It was never completed.)
Man, I’ve got a damn stone doing the electric slide through my right kidney. I literally just got out of the bed today, having been incapacitated since Thursday afternoon. I can’t begin to describe the pain involved. Luckily, I believe I’m through with the worst part because I can sit still for more than twenty minutes without having to contort like Harry Houdini. I know that my lil sis from Huntley Fam and my bro from high school (NFL Clique for life) have them worse than I, so I will not complain. Thankfully, sis put me onto Chancapiedra tea, a kidney stone support supplement. Evil Bezos is sending it through the pony express tomorrow. I needed it Thursday. But God is still undefeated. I didn’t have to go to the emergency room this time. Health is truly wealth. Stay on top of your game so you can stay in the game. That was a note to self; don’t mind me.
(I was wrong on having endured the worst part; all of it was the worst part and fucked me up ALL last week.)
CORRECTION: NAS BLIXKY IS NOT DEAD. HE IS GOING TO SURVIVE. I PRAY IT STAYS THAT WAY.
“There’s a war going on outside no man is safe from.”
Since last week’s blog, two more NYC drill artists have been murdered. Woo member TDot Woo, friends with the late Pop Smoke and artist Fivio Foreign, was shot and killed in Brooklyn, hours after signing a record deal. TDot became famous for his Woo Walk dance, often stealing the show in his friends’ videos. He was 22 years old.
Eight days ago, SevSide affiliate CHii Wvttz was shot and killed in his home borough #BXNYC. He was somewhat famous on the Bronx drill scene, appearing in songs with Dougie B. and running with the clique made famous by Kay Flock and B. Lovee. CHii was 18 years old.
No arrests have been made in either case.
God bless the families of the victims. Two more dreams have been deferred.
I really wish I had the solution to the epidemic facing these rappers, but I understand the dynamics. There’s no simple solution.
Apparently, NYC Mayor Eric Adams had an epiphany after being “educated” on NYC Drill Music the other day, having watched a few videos that his son sent him. Now, he’s waging war on drill music, although I don’t quite know what that means. The last I checked, free speech was protected under Amendment 1. My guess is that he’ll send his goon squad into the areas where drill artists are known to inhabit and…Yeah, I’m still pretty lost on this one. The whole fucking thing makes no sense to me. Are you gonna lock all drill artists up just ‘cause? Is this communist China? Look, I get it. Something should be done because young men are dropping at an alarming rate. But I’m an NYC native who happens to live [just] on the other side of the Hudson. I’m about 20 minutes from SevSide, 45 minutes outside the heart of Medina. I watch the news daily (duh – I’m a journalist). Young niggas don’t need drill music to kill each other. It’s happening daily all over the city. I’m certain that if no other drill song is ever made, these kids will continue to move how they move. Why? Because the problem is systemic, and not birthed by the music. Gang culture has been rampant in NYC the entire millennium. It didn’t happen overnight. Now let’s discuss the socio economic aspect. I don’t need to delve into the data to tell you that the education numbers in the city are horrible. They’ve been that way for a long time. I’m lying. Y’all already know I did my research. The dropout rate in #BXNYC is 11.7%. 15.2% didn’t finish ninth grade, which is the number that should be most scrutinized. Damn near one of every six kids in the X DO NOT MAKE IT PAST NINTH GRADE. That’s craaaaaazy. Let’s dive deeper. The poverty rate of #BXNYC residents under 18 years old is 37.1%. That number is beyond ridiculous. I don’t even know how to quantify any type of mental health data because there’s no way to quantify any data. You can count stats on those who receive some type of service, but there are so many who are undiagnosed that looking at raw data wouldn’t matter. If you don’t see where I’m headed, I’ll spoil the cliffhanger. Children in the city, especially #BXNYC, are failed from birth. Drill music is a product of the cumulative failure of the city in protecting our most precious resource. Mayor, banning drill music is the dumbest shit I’ve heard this year. Address the socio economic issues. That’s where you should start.
In my decade and a half as a one-to-one, I’ve always tried to avoid stepping on a teacher’s toes. Trust, I’ve been amidst some spineless, weak, pitiful MF in my day. But ultimately, they are the teachers and it’s their show. But one thing I can’t stomach is an educator who’s scared to step to a kid who’s out of pocket. The fuck? In these instances, the teacher is either scared of the student(s) or desires to be their friend. THE FUCK? I let my young men know all the time that I love them dearly. I’m here for them. I’ve got their backs – always. But one thing I’m not is their friend. Now, after they graduate and become men? Perhaps. But I’m not on my job to dick eat. I could give a fuck about being liked if it means biting my tongue when a student acts like he/she runs the show. That’s non-cipher x 10. Unfortunately, I am in one period a day with a teacher who would rather befriend than chastise. I don’t know if this person is afraid of her/his students or if they just wanna be down. Either thought is disgusting. So, I have to be the strong arm of justice in the class. I’m the default enemy of these juvenile fucks because I have the temerity to talk to them like an adult should talk to a kid. I should be in the back of the room with my student, chillin like Kahlúa in milk. But some things I can’t let slide. It is what it is.
I would like to send the best vibes to all the lovers out there on this special day (allegedly). I’m not a hater of Valentine’s Day. I merely feel that it’s a bullshit corporate holiday. I love my lady every day of the year. I don’t need a day on the calendar to turn into Cupid. But that’s my sentiment. I realize that others (including my lady) are a bit sentimental when it comes to this day. The Tyrone X act won’t quite work today. All jokes aside, regardless of whether you bought your lover a Tesla today or could barely afford a five-cent gum, it’s the thought that counts. Let your significant other know just how special they are to you on this Valentine’s Day, and if you get the chance to splash waterfall, do your thiznahee. Peace to all lovers worldwide.
My apologies for not delivering last week. But I was more hurt than a real nigga when he reads the affidavit and realizes it was his best man who ratted on him. Thankfully, I feel much better. Business as usual is the mantra. Much love to all y’all. I’ll catch up witcha next week.
RIP MARY WALDECK. LOVE YOU FOREVER PLUS A DAY. TELL SHAREON I MISS HER.
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