Dear Hip-Hop

Dear Hip Hop,

Ifell in love with you because you became the equivalent of a lion taking the pen and telling the stories of urban America that no one wanted to hear.

In retrospect, NWA told us to F **k the Police long before George Floyd, but we all wondered why they were so angry. Some say I fell in love with hip hop because it started in the East and West, but my southern playas like Andre told us they had something to say!

I fell in love with Hip Hop because it told stories of abandoned houses, drug deals, and hungry babies in the places we wanted to ignore!

I fell in love with hip-hop because T.I. said, I’m from

Bankhead; I’ll take your cookies!

I didn’t have to wonder what he meant because Bankhead is home!

I fell in love with hip-hop because it tells the truth. It’s the good, the bad, the ugly over a dope beat, so we listen even when it’s hard to hear the words.

I would love for the story to change at times, but I also know until the world opens up, including us all.

There will be music makers and storytellers who will make us all uncomfortable, just as Hip Hop did.

Genia Billingsly Writer + Grove Park Resident

Dear Hip Hop,

Dear Hip Hop,

I’m young enough to have never known a time without Hip Hop. As a child in rural Alabama, it was a part of the soundtrack of my life. My ALL-TIME favorite artist is Usher and as he blended hip hop with R&B, I was hooked. Today, I love to tell everyone how much I love Trap music and how I have the honor of representing Headland and Delowe for all of my OutKast fans. Southern hip hop was a part of my soundtrack and so many of my teenage and college memories.

Now that I call Atlanta home, I’ve seen up close how hip hop has created economic opportunity for Black Americans. There is a multi-billion dollar ecosystem around hip hop for everyone from artists to producers, agents, lawyers–you name it. This made me fall in love with hip hop in a new way.

As a southern hip hop fan, I’ll say Hip Hop wouldn’t be what it is today without many of the cities I represent in Congress including: Atlanta, College Park, Decatur and East Point. You can’t tell the story of hip hop without the Fighting Fifth. I'm proud to sponsor the resolution that celebrates 50 years of hip hop, and I am a co-sponsor of the RAP Act, which protects the free speech of artists. Because hip hop means so much to me and the people I represent, I love that in my Congressional work I get to promote hip hop and ensure we have 50 more years plus of driving the culture.

Dear Hip Hop,

My love for you is not a moment but a process reflecting different sides of who I am. I first became connected with Hip Hop in college, and the Sugar Hill Gang came out with the famous song “Rapper’s Delight.” I was a fan of the Black oral tradition in music from high school listening to the Last Poets and Rudy Ray Moore. Both groups had their place in my teenage years. Neither was on the radio or underground. Some friends memorized their poems from the record albums of parents or older siblings and relatives and started reciting them on the streets.

I liked the cultural and political message and thrust of the Last Poets, which fit the militancy and Black Power nationalism for a generation wearing Afros, natural hair, rejecting calling ourselves Negros, and the spirit of self-determination and resistance in the air. The witty, naughty, and often vulgar humor and storytelling of Moore resonated differently. Young men like me loved Moore’s tales of Black masculine heroes Dolomite and Shine during a time when Black men would primarily appear on television and cinema as clownish buffoons or docile servants of white men. After high school graduation, movement folks introduced me to other powerful transmitters of the Black oral tradition, particularly Gil Scott Heron, the Watts Prophets, and Amiri Baraka. These artists put poems over African drums, R&B, and Black classical music (so-called jazz).

Moving to Atlanta in the 1980s, my students at Southside High (now Maynard Jackson) began to share their cassette tapes. They dropped Kool Moe Dee, Public Enemy’s (PE) “Bum Rush the Show,” and Boogie Down Productions “Criminal Minded” and “My Philosophy.” These artists not only continued the oral tradition but dropped the consciousness (I.e., the “science”) that inspired my teaching and everyday rhythm.

Hip Hop became an essential vehicle in my teaching, whether at Southside, Atlanta Metro Upward Bound, Morehouse, Clark Atlanta, Georgia States, and particularly in federal prisons. At the suggestion of the political prisoner Dr. Mutulu Shakur, we made it the focus of our curriculum. We organized a Hip Hop Summit at United States Penitentiaries in Atlanta and Coleman (in Central Florida). Utilizing Hip Hop in both institutions and witnessing the growth of some of the young prisoners there became some of the most valuable and rewarding experiences I’ve had in over four decades of being an educator.

Hip Hop is not dead. Its foundation is the oral tradition of our Ancestors from West and Central Africa, nurtured in the folk tales on the plantations. It is a vehicle to express different parts of ourselves, the sacred and the secular, the party and the pain. It continues to grow and is a vehicle to help us grow. Hip Hop is now 50, and guess what? It’s Forever!

Dr. Akinyele Umoja Professor + Author Department of Africana Studies, Georgia State University

An Ode to Outkast from An Atlien 13th Floor / Growing Old featuring Big Rube, Atliens, 1996. The boisterous tenor of Big Rube on the open immediately followed by the harmony like memories of yesterday automatically triggers core memories of time spent in English Avenue with my grandmother and family growing up in Atlanta. As a fifth generation Atlantan, I have had the gift of sight to be a witness of the nostalgia of pre-1996 Centennial Olympic Games in Atlanta along with the thriving beauty of the Atlanta we are witnessing today. As I grow old in this amazing City, I am reminded of the love, struggle and fiber of my ancestors as they transitioned from the rural areas of Washington, Ga - a small rural town in Wilkes county, best known for being the place where the Confederacy dissolved itself effectively ending the Civil War as we know it.

Elevators (Me & You), Atliens, 1996. My mother was a single parent with an amazing extended village of which my grandmother served as root and soil for us. As she sought to firm her independence and path for her professional career, we would often ride the 86 Lithonia headed to Decatur together. While on the Marta bus ride, I would look intently out the window while also attempting to dodge the cool air blowing intensely from the window vent. Unknown to others, my Mom included, I would play a game in my head, also known as “Bingo”, coveting the kind of home I wanted, the car I would drive down to the fashion of the women we passed by. My dreams were real and very achievable as growing up in Atlanta allowed for me to experience black excellence in real time, all of the time.

Player’s Ball, Southernplayalisticadillacmuzik, 1993. This hip hop classic originally released on the LaFace Family Christmas compilation album was an anthem for my cousins and I as we cruised the parking lot of the Greenbriar Flea Market dressed photoshoot ready to see Mr. Harry. He captured the essence of Atlanta with the binders of images he saved, different colored backgrounds to match any fashion ensemble and the standard white pillars as background props.

Upon arrival at the parking lot, we would literally see people that came from far and wide, wearin' afros and braids, kickin' them gangsta rides. Despite my limited comprehension at the time that this classic was in fact a Christmas song as if the lyrical clue of ain’t no chimneys in the ghetto, so I won't be hangin' my socks on no chimney it was an audio illustration of the Atlanta that I’ve grown to love and respect.

Black Ice (Sky High) by Goodie Mob featuring Outkast, 1998. In this season of my personal life and professional career, I seek to find joy in even the smallest of things while marveling at God's wonder. I have the honor of leading the commercial efforts at the busiest airport in the world, Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, serving a global community as they take flight and return to land. I am reminded each day that my role and mere existence in the aviation ecosystem is part of the late Honorable Maynard Jackson’s vision and legacy realized. Hence my goal each day to touch what I never touched before, seen what I never seen before, woke up and seen the sun, sky high.

Jai Ferrell Deputy General Manager, Atlanta Airport

Dear Hip-Hop

Dear Hip Hop,

Music, in general, has always been a part of me. My father, Felix C. Williams, was a renowned musical genius in his own regard. Playing with such greats as Paul McCartney, Johnny Taylor, James Brown, Joe Tex, Micheal Jackson, just to name a few. My mother, "Ms. Martha," is musically inclined as well. I play several brass instruments which I will explore more in this career season.

But HIP HOP? My journey with you began in elementary school, E.L. Connallly. I was in a hip-hop collective, so to speak; there were rappers, break dancers, and beatboxers in the crew. We called ourselves "The Crusaders." Fast forward to 1985, I went to the OMNI (that's OG Atlanta) to see RUN DMC, L L Cool J, Whodini, The Fat Boys, and others at the "Fresh Fest." When I saw RUN walk out on that stage with such Savoir-faire and stage presence, I knew then that I wanted to do that. The way he and DMC controlled the crowd mesmerized me. I went home and immediately wrote my first rhyme. "Calibrator, modulator, master rap dominator alias a cold creator" was how it started.

Moving along, I met Ceelo Green hanging out in Greenbriar Mall long before we knew each other's musical calling. I recall he was 8 years old, and I was around 11. Who knew that one day we would reunite and become a part of the most incredible hip hop crews ever; The Dungeon Family. Slightly before that induction, I had the opportunity to rhyme on Kool Ace's first album. The song was entitled "Old School Player."

I was born on the right day in the right century at the suitable dispensation of time. A day later, it may not have happened that way. As hip hop turns 50, I am beginning to write my best offerings ever. I have a new three-part album entitled "The Eternal Triad," with the first installment called "Eternal (The Flesh)." It will be in the atmosphere real soon. So it's safe to say, "The rest is history."

Here's to you, "Hip Hop."

The Dungeon Family’s own Backbone

Dear Hip Hop,

First, let me start by saying I was born in Atlanta, Georgia, at Crawford Long Hospital. My mother and I lived off Washington Road in East Point before moving to Savannah, Georgia. Every summer after we moved to Savannah, I would return to Atlanta and spend time with my family. Then at the end of 2004, I moved back to Atlanta permanently and have been here ever since. Upon my return, I became very interested in hip-hop. Much of this was because of my growing interest in the legendary duo 'Outkast.' Outkast stood out because Big Boi was from Savannah, GA, and moved to Atlanta just like me. Big Boi is actually from the same side of town in Savannah and had close family members in my neighborhood 'Cloverdale.'

Nonetheless, their style and being unapologetically southern made them quickly become my favorite rap group. While I was in school, Outkast's "The Whole World" featuring Killer Mike was my ringtone on my phone. This song is where I would be exposed to Killer Mike, who also became one of my favorite artists. Right before I moved back to Atlanta in 2004, I listened to T.I's "I'm Serious" & "Trap Muzik" albums almost every day in Savannah! T.I. quickly became one of my favorite rappers; it was out of him and Savannah legend 'Camouflage' who I listened to most then. I wanted to be just like T.I. growing up; I loved his style and jargon. T.I. made me want to fly! Crazy how things would come full circle because Big Boi, Killer Mike, and T.I. would all become a part of my journey in the music industry.

Now I'm the CEO of my label, "Playas Club Music Group." I have an incredible roster of artists: King Elway, Charlise J, Pimpin Pablo, Big Smitty, Young Bo, and Respekk. I run the label alongside my partners Johnny Cedor and Messiah Freeman, aka Pimp Sweet Tooth. We've garnered a significant buzz as a label over the past couple of years, and Atlanta has supported my newest business venture. I love seeing the progress of my artists going from barely known to many people becoming familiar. I enjoy helping my people accomplish their goals and further their careers. I also own a studio on Covington Hwy called 'Sound Lynk' with my partners Chad Hampton and Roger Vidal. I knew I loved music before, but once I became a label owner, my love for music became unconditional, and now I'm connected to hip-hop more than ever.

Clay James @whoisclayjames

Curator of the City of Atlanta's HH50 activation at Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport

Dear Hip Hop,

As we celebrate the 50th anniversary of your birth, it’s impossible to put into words the depth of appreciation and gratitude I hold for you in my heart. Hip Hop has touched every corner of my life, from influencing my style as a six-year-old begging my mother to buy me a pair of Jordan I’s that were one size too small, to shaping how I view the vibrant culture that shapes and reflects the heartbeat of communities around the globe.

My journey to leadership, fatherhood, public service - manhood has been shaped by Hip Hop. I strive to represent the core values of unity, creativity, and community that Hip Hop champions. My childhood was filled with connections to the likes of future doctors, lawyers, community leaders, athletes and Hip Hop superstars like my next-door neighbor Dungeon Family’s Own Backbone or an occasional baby-sitting session by my childhood friend Willie Brown’s big brother John better known as Little John. Hip Hop’s profound impact on my life ranges from fostering relationships and connections to navigating pathways that go beyond music.

Dear Hip Hop,

Istarted out with a crush when I bought two tapes... Naughty by Nature and Jazzy Jeff & the Fresh Prince. That was '91 or '92. I know... two extremes... fun rap and thug rap. But I've always been complex, and Hip Hop, you allowed me to be different. I loved those tapes, but "Aiesha" by A.B.C. was my favorite song. I remember my older sister playing it in the car, and I had her run it back so many times she got annoyed with me. I was amazed by the power of the music.

It started with a crush, but I fell in love in '94 when I heard "Nappy Heads (Remix)" by the Fugees. Man, I love that song. And then they followed up with "Vocab" and Hip Hop, and we became connected at the heart. The Fugees did it for me. Lauren's genius, Wyclef's musicality, and Pras' weirdness were the right combination. It was perfect. So I thank the Fugees for my relationship with you, Hip Hop. And after the Fugees, it was "Ready to Die" by the greatest rapper of all time, the Notorious B.I.G. He was from Brooklyn, and I'm from Brooklyn. So we connected on a different level. Biggie showed me a path to coolness and originality, and I followed suit.

I love Hip Hop, all your positives and negatives. You gave voice to generations unlike anything before. I hope youth culture preserves the art form. Thank you, Hip Hop, for everything you've done for me.

Ian Ford Atlanta Influences Everything Co-founder

Reflecting on this milestone of fifty years, it’s not lost on me that on August 14th I’ll celebrate my own forty-fifth. Hip Hop and I have grown up together. The intertwining threads that have woven you into the fabric of my existence. From summer camps at Adams Park with Bobby “Valentino” Wilson to teaming up with Jamal Jones aka Polow da Don and Jonathan Tabb aka Moss B as young hoopers or playing alongside Southside superstar Tauheed Epps now known as 2 Chainz during AAU basketball, I learned the relation between the stories that accompany the pulsating rhythm of the music and the bold strokes of fashion and expression that challenge convention. You’ve gifted us a unique tapestry that celebrates diversity, resilience, and self-expression, while equipping us to lead our community.

My heartfelt thanks extend to the countless artists who have poured their souls into your lyrics, melodies, and beats. You’ve provided a platform for previously unheard voices, shedding light on the struggles, dreams, and triumphs of individuals who found solace and strength in your embrace.

The halls of Frederick Douglass High School, where legends like Jarvis and Jonas Hayes, Killer Mike, Jamal Lewis and TI also walked, stand as a monument to your ability to unite individuals. You’ve been the bridge that spans generations, backgrounds, and experiences, creating a common ground where stories are shared dreams are nurtured, and communities grow.

So, on this milestone anniversary, I raise my voice in unison with millions of others with similar experiences and backgrounds to express our deepest gratitude. Thank you, Hip Hop, for the music that has become the soundtrack of our lives, the culture that has enriched our existence, the fertile ground that shaped us, and the unity that has bound us together. May your legacy continue to inspire, uplift, and ignite the flames that inspire generations of leaders to come. Your biggest fan, Odie Donald II