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And now we come to…the end of an era

Today, oddly enough was supposed to be the pay off FINALLY for a number of posts about relationships that I thought might be better than all my previous ruthless on relationships post. And indeed I’ll get to that later.

 

Instead,

Today is a day I bring us to a place I knew could happen, but was happy every time it didn’t. Today we end the hour for the last time. What do I mean? Today is the beginning of a goodbye party. For this blog. Oh it will continue to exist, but a transition is afoot. And so with all transitions, some things remain the same, while other change or are left behind.

If you would have told me 3 years ago as I was studying for the bar that we would be here I would be shocked. But if you would have told me that we would get here after 450 thousand views I’d also be shocked so much attention happened. Words Don’t Do It Justice started as an idea, a bit of fun, and a lot of me. I have buried hatchets with enemies because of this blog, reconnected with old friends, and made new ones because of this blog, found meaning in the midst of my own personal depression because of this place. I have consumed it, and let it consume me. I love it. But loving this blog means knowing what to do. And taking a good long look I know the thing to do is let it go.

But I said this was transition not destruction.

And indeed it is. I’ll be taking Words Don’t Do It Justice away from our blogging past into a show based future. For me, the question was one of logistics. Was it better to end everything and walk away from these years of effort, or find a way to keep the place alive in the hearts of all of you who have supported us? I choose to believe that you will keep supporting us, and I chose to keep this place alive in a new way.

That means giving you what we planned. Give No Quarter, The Wrath of Ruthless, and Words Don’t Do It Justice are the three pillars of Ruthless Radio. 3 shows with different formats that bring you many of the topics you might see written about here, but in a new form and with some new and old faces/voices. Over the next few weeks as we ready to for the relaunch of Words Don’t Do It Justice as a podcast, you’ll get to read some farewells from various alums, and hear from the incoming folks for these shows. You’ll also see the Words Don’t Do It Justice site itself undergo various changes. With plenty of hard work, luck, and you listening in, I hope to earn your trust for these new shows, and continue to hold our interest.

SO! What about Weekend’s Don’t Do It Justice?

Well I’m happy to say our little casual interest site is growing well. And it is going to continue. We had a nice response to the sample chapter from Project 13, and now that game of thrones is done you’ll see a lot of other reviews, news, and related content there. Our gamers are doing their thing, and if Vantinel’s CEO appearance is any indication of commitment, we will only continue to grow over there.

As I end for now I just want to say thank you, and of course to keep watching what we do. But more than that, thank you for being a force for us. We continued to push because you were there with us. 100,000 visitors, 450,000 views, and 3 years of growth, While things must change, I am glad to have made it to this point. A point that let’s me look back and say that YOU made us more than I imagined. And though Words Don’t Do It Justice…Thank you.

 

“THE Ruthless Wonder” Matthew Elisha Williams

Founder of Words Don’t Do It Justice

Manly Men are B*tches

Good DaddyI’m a girl. I’m a lady. I am a woman. I am strong and delicate, fierce and gentle. I get to be both. Unfortunately, the world demands that men… that our boys choose a side. What it means to be manly… just one more thing I don’t have any business really speaking on. There’s a lot out there about the messages we send to little girls, and make no mistake, that’s important, but not what this here is about. I need to talk about men, how we raise men, how we program boys, and how important it is that we make some real changes if we’re going to make moves in the right direction for all of our futures.

Sometimes I don’t know what’s more damaging: I understand the importance of teaching boys to be Suck it Upstrong, but for some reason, it’s like they’re not allowed to be balanced. Why are any displays of non-aggressive emotion considered weak? I’d ask why Any indication of weakness is automatically considered feminine, but that’s not what this is about. We raise boys to hold everything in, hide their true feelings, and show only a supposedly manly variety of strength, but expect men to be honest, caring, and sensitive as lovers, compliant, subservient, and malleable as employees, and then be tender, gentle, and patient as fathers… all while maintaining an impermeable armor of masculine strength. Then we wonder why they die younger, are more susceptible to violent outbursts, and more likely to go on killing sprees that end in their own death.

Pink OnsieThe pressure to be manly men starts when they’re born. The suggestion the dressing a baby boy in supposedly girly colors–colors they haven’t even learned to recognize–will somehow make him gay. The assertion that letting a boy play with girls weakens him. The idea that boys have to “toughen up” and can’t cry. In my conversations with guys and gals about what makes a man manly often has more to do with what he does than who he is. Does he work? Does he spend time with his family? Does he act like a man? I honestly don’t really know what that means: “act like a man.” As a matter of fact, it doesn’t seem like most other people really know what it means either. How is it then, that we expect our boys to grow into strong men when we can’t even come up with a definitive answer for what it means to be one?

I think the idea of manliness that we’ve been shoving down our boys throats is Abuseactually feeding a bitch-made mentality. When I say bitch, I don’t mean anything feminine. I mean that we have been raising boys hoping for men, and instead ending up with bitches. They’re over sensitive, homophobic, and moody. Unfortunately, because they’ve been conditioned to hold all of their emotions in, they’re prone to spontaneous combustion. They have a tendency to interpret everything as attacks against their manhood. Of course these are very general statements, and I know that #notallmen are like this. Unfortunately, we’re living in a social climate where everything is taken personally and indifferently at the same time. Every conversation is an opportunity to get defensive or accuse someone of being oversensitive. Even when trying to address and fix these kinds of social problems, we run into this–as the kids would say–bitch-made mentality that makes it impossible to make progress. Here’s my attempt…

A man’s manhood cannot be measured by how many women he beds, hours worked, or dollars spent on material things. Manhood cannot be challenged by anything, if the man in question is truly a man. A an who knows his position, knows his worth, and is fully secure in his manhood does not allow trivialities to diminish his manly swag. A man is honorable, kind, and diligent in all of his undertakings. He keeps his word and is sure to mirror his words with his deeds. He knows his strengths, and does not allow his weaknesses to define him. He understands the importance of partnerships, team work, and family. He works hard, and plays hard. He is balanced. He most certainly strives to Do More & Require Better.

Mom

Random church pic with Mom. Sometimes you dont need a special occasion.

Random church pic with Mom. Sometimes you don’t need a special occasion.

If you’re reading this. It is the future. I’m writing to you from the past. Who knows how long I’ll be on the shelf with this illness, but I wanted to get this written down in time to go up on Mother’s Day just in case.

She loved coming to Florida for this. Still doesn't want to move there though.

She loved coming to Florida for this. Still doesn’t want to move there though.

Mother’s Day

People often have a opinion of the holiday that is steeped in one of two things. An unabashed love of it and their Mother, or a deep avoidance of it because of their Mother. I fall oddly enough in both categories. Some of you know why more than others. When people naturally assume I’m talking about the woman in all the photos of my childhood, adolescence, and adulthood constantly referred to as my Mom, they wonder how I can have ill feelings towards her. Like every child, at some point I got mad about not being allowed to do or get something (usually my way), but I assure you that is not what I’m talking about here. I’m in both categories because as is the case for kids like me, I know the fundamental difference between me and most of you. As many people constantly post the sonograms of their upcoming children, the poems about their mothers and how they were carried 9 months and all that, and inevitably the “she knew me before I knew myself” based reflections, I get angry.

Let me explain.

I get angry because I know, sort of, the woman who did that. I know her in my features, my skin tone, my likely genetically passed along diseases (thanks for the diabetes). I don’t know her face other than what exists in my own. I don’t know her voice other than what markers her and my father passed along to me. And that makes me angry every year at this time. Right along side knowing that I was easy to cast aside. But another anger rises in me. I am angry for the woman who has loved, cared for, scolded, taught, cried over and with, cheered on, and supported me from the moment she saw my face. Because she had to find me. Because she and my Dad had to look for me. Because I wasn’t theirs to begin with.

If you thought she was happy when I got my JD, imagine her watching me get sworn in by a Judge I've known since I was 13, at the second coolest courthouse in Kansas City, with nothing but friends and family around.

If you thought she was happy when I got my JD, imagine her watching me get sworn in by a Judge I’ve known since I was 13, at the second coolest courthouse in Kansas City, with nothing but friends and family around.

In movies, because well I always relate things to something easy, you often find a character who is secretly someone else entirely has odd differences in their mannerisms, looks and the like from their family and finding out why is some deep secret from the family’s pandora’s box. I’ve always known why. I’m adopted. I could say it is easier to handle sticking out when you know why, but I’d be lying. Knowing your extreme light complexion black parents are not passing it on to you so you look darker in every photo? I know the reason. Knowing your siblings from your father’s past relationships are all substantially taller than you, and you’ll probably never get there? I know the reason. And those are the superficial issues. The hard stuff is much darker. I won’t get you too deep in that existential nightmare, but hold the rails as I dip your toes in.

Wondering if your parents really love you or if they might send you away because you aren’t really their kid they just chose to have you around? I know the reason for that fear and it started at age 5.

Get out of that pool folks it only gets darker from there.

So while some of my anger is from not being wanted by the woman who gave birth to me, a lot of it is from not being born my Mom’s son. Knowing that somewhere deep in her mind just like in mine we hurt for the same reason, that we had to find each other. That her and my Dad had to go through paperwork, lawyers, judges, an apparently heartbroken foster mom, and state agencies as well as everyone who represented my birth mother’s family just to get me into their lives so I could have the beautiful dream ending that you seriously only hear about in movies. You might wonder why that inspires anger and not joy, happiness, or many other positives emotions. Well it does. But I started with anger so you’d get why the highs are so high.

I said at the top I’m in both categories. The flame of my anger has, admittedly, dimmed a bit, as I just stopped caring about all but the fact that my parents are the ones who love and raised me. Who were there for all the tiny moments and the towering ones. But the anger category was never so powerful as to overshadow the joy. Better said the anger fueled even more joy. How so? Let’s dream out the other side of that dark pool from earlier for a moment shall we? I don’t wonder did my parents want to have me around. I know they did because of all that to get me here. I have verifiable, legally documented, state stamped proof that by the sheer force of will of my parents I became Matthew Elisha Williams (My name is, in the end, rather telling). I take pride in my name and the meaning of my name. Not because it is so American that eagles should come flying out from behind me while Jimi Hendrix plays the Star Spangled Banner every time it is said or I walk into a room. But because, quite literally, it is the story of how I came to be.

Not the same as when we had season tickets for the Chiefs, but we both loved being back to Arrowhead for some football. GO LINCOLN!

Not the same as when we had season tickets for the Chiefs, but we both loved being back to Arrowhead for some football. GO LINCOLN!

So when I look at my Mother, now enjoying retirement, reading books, but sadly dealing with the complications of having MS effecting one of her legs I have a towering joy. That woman chose me. Every child that was available for adoption in 1982 was available. Every single one, and instead of all of them, me. That’s a powerful thing to know. That’s a powerful memory to hold in your heart and mind when things get bad. I know, because I have. I let her pick what we do with Mother’s day every year. Some years I didn’t have the money to buy her gifts so I wrote for her. Some years the gift doesn’t arrive on time. No matter what though, I give thanks for her. I take a moment every chance I get to remind her I love her, to say thank you, and on days like Mother’s Day additionally make sure she knows I care. Because, as I often say, my parents are my favorite super heroes, always have been, always will be. So I make sure to honor the one I still get to see whenever I want. The cliché ending would be “take a moment and talk to your Mom, think about your Mom, or go see your Mom.” I wouldn’t dare presume that you only have the bright side of the journey I just took you on. Instead I’ll end by saying no matter what your situation, no matter your relationship with your Mother, take a moment for yourself. Reflect on who you are. If that reflection leads you to a positive place about your Mother, take some time for and or with her. If that reflection leads you to a negative place about your Mother, take some time to honor who you became in spite of that relationship. I could say more, but Words Don’t Do Mom Justice!

Happy Mother’s Day!

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Way back when Mom at my side, and my uncle standing in where my father would have if he had still been alive.

 –  THE Ruthless Wonder

 

P.S. shoutout to the soon to be Moms that are also big time WDDIJ Superfans Jessica Thomas and Danielle Baron-Anders(or Anders nee Baron, Luv ya but I have no idea what you decided on last name)

Story Time: Handling Depression, A Personal Note

Some of the first movies I remember watching as a child were Lord of the Flies, The Power of One, Sarafina… and my least favorite of all, Roots. Add to that the Women of Brewster place and The Color Purple, and you might think you have an idea about the direction I’m going with this, but I assure you, you’re probably way off. I’ve been programmed, and for the most part, the programming has worked. I believe in fighting for the greater good and doing for others for the sole purpose of doing the right thing. Unfortunately, my programming has come at a great price; all I can ever see are battles that need fighting, suffering, pain, strife, and all the unpleasantness that this world has to offer. My programming set the framework for depression. In spite of my beliefs and unimaginable capacity for caring, hope, and faith that things can get better, I just don’t actually see it. For me, the world is a sad, scary, painful place to be. In short: I have an uncharacteristically negative outlook for someone who believes so much in the greater good.

Wanna know something you probably won’t believe? When I lived alone, I only watched the evening news on Mondays so I could see the 5-day forecast. Otherwise, it was either entertainment or studying… whichever project would fill my time, build my skills, and lift my spirits. The thought was: There’s only ever bad news.

The day I started writing this–November 21st, 2014–I snapped at my mother. I knew I hurt her, but I just couldn’t let her say anything else. I was just so far from being in a frame of mind where I could parse or compartmentalize information. See, she was about to tell me about yet another serial killer; one more piece of bad news to take root in my mind and add to the already fertile breeding ground for more sadness. I was beyond tired of it, and I really couldn’t take much more. My depression had me in a choke hold. It was as if my mental garden had been overrun with negativity plants choking out the positive ones. All of the nutrients and fuel that could have been used to fertilize whichever remaining positive fruit-bearing plants was going to the negative ones. I’m stuck in a battle with myself; between my true nature, and the nature of my mind.

The worst part of this is that I’m not the only one who has these kinds of thoughts and feelings. While some people might think “at least you aren’t alone.” I wish I was. I wish I was the only one on the planet feeling this way because it would at least mean that other people were happy… or at least not the kind of unhappy that I am. It would mean that there would be one less battle that needed fighting, one fewer group of people that needed defending… one less thing for me to watch other people suffer through. I think that last part is the had part for everyone to deal with.

In the last year and change, I’ve acknowledged my depression publicly and taken steps toward mental health. This process has required discussions with people who have been supportive and understanding, and many more who in fairness might have thought they were being helpful, but in fact were really not.  They did the silver lining thing…

The Power of Empathy! Everyone should watch this and take note 🙂 It’s not so much about sympathizing with people and making them feel better with things or with stories to please their ego. It’s about getting to the core of things with people. Connecting with them, feeling what they are feeling, relating to them and bringing no judgement into the situation at all. Next time you are the ear that listens, provide words that don’t fulfill an ego/mind story and see how much of a difference it makes for the other person. 🙂

Posted by Collective Evolution on Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Something I found to be particularly difficult on my worst days: I couldn’t think of my having survived another day as a good thing. So when she said “Everyone doesn’t have it easy… At least you aren’t homeless or sick” I couldn’t help but wish for sickness to suddenly take over my body and take me off this plane, hopefully in such a way that my family could profit from my demise. In the middle of a conversation I was fantasizing about my own death. The possibility of dying gave me hope. I highly doubt this was anyone who was there for that conversation’s intent, but it became the reason I wouldn’t give up… because giving up would mean not being put in any situations to get a gainful kind of sick or have any unfortunate accidents that would allow my death to accomplish what I couldn’t in life. Because: silver lining.

So what’s this really all about? Its about understanding that depression is a lot of things with a lot of causes and can’t necessarily be Anxiety Realitysolved with a positive thought and a hug. If you’re in a position to help someone who is depressed, the best thing you can do is listen and acknowledge their struggle. Especially if you have experience with depression in your own life, your success story might help, but it might also not. Your frustration with not being able to “fix” your friend pales in comparison to how the  depression is making them feel. If a depressed person trusts you with their struggle, their feelings, their anxiety, their fears, their willingness to end it all, then you have been trusted with that person’s life and how you treat them and everything they have trusted you with is a responsibility that shouldn’t be taken lightly. You’ve been given a great power, and thus a great responsibility. If you aren’t up to the task, then be honest: say that you don’t know what to say, that you wish there was something you could do to help…. say nothing at all and just be there.  You never really know how deep in the darkness a person is, or what that person would be willing to do to solve the problem for themselves. Acknowledge and validate their feelings. Even if it doesn’t make sense to you, the feelings are real to them. They don’t need another voice echoing the insecurities already ricocheting off the walls of their mind. I know I’ve never forgotten the hurtful things that were said to me, and I’ve struggled to let go of the hurtful things I imagined. Depression makes reality hard to deal with.

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Do More. Require Better.

And now… at the end of the hour

cropped-wordsdontdoit2-1.jpg

This week we debuted a brand new podcast with a livestream. We said goodbye to one of the founders. We tackled coons, and hoteps. As well as assault, and the HIV & AIDS treatment drug Truvada.

 

 

I skipped a couple lines to let that sink in.

When this started I literally just wanted to take my usual facebook ranting to a website. I figured it would be like the old days of my Xanga page. Now, now I deal with potential sponsors, have production meetings, worry about our average listening and reading time, and look for brand expansion.

I remind you, I was so bored in the last semester of law school I decided to make a blog to archive the things I would normally rant about on Facebook.

 

So you can understand that having gone from that place to now is rather…amazing if I’m honest. I had no idea. We’ve added and lost people over that time. But more than their contributions or mine, we’ve gotten to know a lot of you. As of this writing, 92,000 of you have come to get to know us over these 3 years of Words Don’t Do It Justice. And you must like it here, because you’ve dropped in 302,000 times.

300000

That is astounding. That is epic. And to think that it has all come before we put up a single ad, before we shilled a single product, without a marketing team, and mostly from the effort of our authors, and their friends and family who have additionally believed in us and shared us with other people.  I can’t tell you enough thank you for all you’ve done and continue to do. It really has made the difference.

What that means is even what I’ve done in the past year isn’t enough. I have to do more. And I am. While we lost a podcast co-host today, I’m proud to say we gained 2 new ones for our show Give No Quarter. While we have Reason on break for a while, I’m happy to say we will be launching Weekends Don’t Do It Justice as its own site (www.wkndlife.com www.weekendsdontdoitjustice.net www.weekendsdontdoitjustice.com). Look for a review of a hilariously bad movie coming over there soon from me.

Heck, go buy a shirt, phone case, hoodie or tank. https://www.teepublic.com/user/314publishing

Check out our current Shirt and cases designs. Buy one now while you wait for more. Click the photo to go straight to the store!

Check out our current Shirt and cases designs. Buy one now while you wait for more.
Click the photo to go straight to the store!

 

I’m also happy to say that I’m teaming with Mr. 9 to 5 gamer himself Bami O to open a new gaming site and channel called “Save State Society” (www.savestatesociety.com www.savestatesociety.net) here soon as well. And we’re open with some great games and reviews. But that is going to take a lot to talk about, and I’ve got work to do there.

You’re here reading because this is about Words Don’t Do it Justice. The granddaddy of them all. Okay, the origin of them all. Three years in, and even though health wise I’ve dealt with issues. Professional life wise, I’ve had great forward steps but also set backs. Heck life in general being strange. After all that I’m proud of where we are. Where you’ve brought us. And so for the third time we come to the end of the hour. Where I say thank you without any reservations. Where for the third time ever, I get to step out of my role as Head Blogger, Editor, Podcast host, Lucremo, THE Ruthless Wonder, and everything that comes with it, and instead just talk to you as Matt Williams. We have a few reflection pieces and some alumni coming back to give us a piece. And we are going to celebrate all the way to my personal birthday on March 14th. But right now I’m just going to end by saying thank you all for bringing me and us from where we were to where we are and pushing us forward to where we are going next. As always Words Don’t Do YOU Justice.

“THE Ruthless Wonder” Matthew Elisha Williams

The WRATH of Ruthless Holiday Special: The Wrong Kind Of Progress

The WRATH of Ruthless is back!

Before our actual relaunch we got together for a Holiday special with a couple topics and some old friends.

The WRATH of Ruthless Holiday Special: The Wrong Kind Of Progress <-Click this and you can download or listen from our SoundCloud

Here you can listen from our soundcloud right here on WDDIJ. [soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/239005820″ params=”color=ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false” width=”100%” height=”100″ iframe=”true” /]

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CHICAGO - DECEMBER 01: Senator Hillary Clinton (D-NY) listens as President-elect Barack Obama introduces her as his choice for secretary of state during a press conference at the Hilton Hotel December 01, 2008 in Chicago, Illinois. Other members of the National Security Team named by Obama at the press conference include Washington attorney Eric Holder as attorney general, Arizona Governor Janet Napolitano as his choice for homeland security and he said Robert Gates would remain as defense secretary. Retired Marine Gen. James L. Jones was selected for the position of national security adviser and Susan Rice as U.N. ambassador. (Photo by Scott Olson/Getty Images)

Yes our Holiday Special is going to cover all of this.

Introducing: Tenebris Veritatis – Looking for Role Models in All the Wrong Places

We interrupt your regularly scheduled Reign O’Change conversation for this thought-provoking piece by our newest writer Tenebris Veritatis. Telling you to Do More & Require Better one line at a time with his introductory piece: Looking for Role Models in All the Wrong Places. Sit back, relax, and enjoy!Reign

Microwave-a-CD-IntroI grew up listening to rap, in my house there was not a day that went by where my mom was not playing artist like: Tupac, N.W.A, WU Tang clan, Run DMC, and others. Rap and hip-hop is pretty much a part of our culture, however as much as music is a part of our culture so is the history of our people. It is a problem to me when so many children can walk around reciting songs word for word from people like Young Thug, Nicki Minaj, and Fetty Wap but they cannot name a single famous black inventor and the only words they know from Dr.Martin Luther King’s speech is “I have a Dream”.

We have kids running the streets, getting into trouble growing up to be hoodlums, thugs, and pregnant with their second child by time they are eighteen, but what can you expect when the last generation fails the current one; when parents don’t regulate their children because they are too busy running the streets themselves. How can you expect your teen-aged daughter to dress and act respectably when from the age of seven she has been watching Nicki Manij videos, singing her songs, and learning to dance like her? We don’t want our sons running the streets killing each other, disrespecting women and treating them like sex objects, yet we let music where drugs, guns, calling women bitches and saying all they are good for is oral sex is the central theme be their guiding influence in life. I see so many young males and females refer to themselves as real niggas and bad bitches, and you know what it’s the truth because that is exactly what we are creating, “Creating” because we definitely are not raising them, a generation populated with real niggas and bad bitches instead of Real Men and Real Women.

Now I am not saying that music is solely to blame do not, interpret this as such. The fault lies on the parents as much as the music. When you do not give your children proper role models banneker-2to look up to this is the result. I may have grown up listening to Tupac, and N.W.A, however my mother was a strong and present force in my life I also had my great grandmother, and although my father was not always around physically due to military services and the fact that he and my mother cant’t stand each other he was there as an influence as well through letters, phone calls and books that he mailed me about African-American history. Yes I heard Tupac and N.W.A.’s message about the streets, but I was also given and made to read books about people like Fredrick Douglas, W. E. B. Du Bois, and George Washington Carver. I knew that there was more to life than the streets and what’s portrayed in the media, had good role models to look up to, and something to aspire to be too. If we want things to improve, MTE1ODA0OTcxODE1MzA2NzY1and for our children to have a future we have to stop failing them. Let them know they are capable of great things, that the first clock in America was made by a black man by the name of Benjamin Banneker , that the first beauty products for African-Americans were made by Madame CJ Walker, give them inspiration to be something more.

For a moment let’s take a look at the music that is being allowed to influence our lives and the lives of the up-and-coming generation of young men and women. Take for instance the song (and I use the word lightly) “Throw Some Mo” by Rae Sremmurd featuring Young Thug and Nicky Minaj. This song does not even have to play long; it opens with a hook sung by Nicky Minaj stating “Ass fat, yea I know. You got cash blow some mo” a few lines later she then continues with “Bad bitches on the floor, its rainin hunninds. Throw some mo” Those first few lines pretty much sum up the theme of this song, women using their bodies to gain money. This message is further conveyed in the lyrics of the second verse which states:

Franklins, raining on your body

Raining on your body

Raining on your body

Won’t you do what I say

Start rubbing on your body

Hunnids on your body

But you need to get naughty

Hold up, hold on, her eyes on me

Is that your hoe, if so, Imma get her before the nights over.”

This verse no this entire song is degrading to women, teaching them to exploit their bodies for money and the accompanying music video only serves to make it worse. The entire video is full of women wearing barely any clothing dancing on each other and men as they throw money on them. When young men grow up watching and listening to this kind of message without guidance from their parents (not that I believe it is ok for a child to be exposed to this at all) they grow up thinking two things; One: it is ok to refer to women as bitches and hoes, Two: as long as you have money women will do what you want. On the opposite side of this, let us look at the message this song, its video and others like it could send to a young woman still growing who does not have proper parental influence in her life. Girls growing up looking up to the image of Nicki Minaji will want to emulate her behavior. Look like her, dress like her, and act like her. They will believe that it is ok to refer to themselves as bad bitches and that it is ok for men to call them that as well, never mind the negative meaning of the word bitch when used to address a woman. Is it really ok for a young girl to grow up believing it is ok to allow her-self to be sexually exploited and objectified for profit?

Let’s take another second to compare the typical or displayed behavior of those that address themselves as “real niggas” and “bad bitches” as opposed to those who are real men and women. The majority of the teens and young adult males who walk around these days referring to their self “Real Niggas” are loud, boisterous and frequently refer to themselves as “real niggas”, while a real man knows that actions speak louder than words. “Real niggas” are the type to look down on a man working two dead end jobs to help support his family. Instead they choose to sell drugs risking jail and fail to realize it is just as important to be in their child’s life as it is to put food on the table. “Real niggas” fight when they feel the least bit disrespected, calling a man who walks away from a fight a “punk”; not seeing the wisdom in picking their battles or that sometimes it is just not worth it. As for your typical “Bad bitch” they see themselves as strong, empowered women who can stand on their own and need no one’s help. However “bad bitches” mistake a rude, abrasive personality for a strong one. When angered, they tend to be loud, insulting, and in-your-face. They don’t realize that they can stand their ground without raising their voice; they can make their point without insulting the person they are talking to, and that when they get in someone’s face pushing them they’re are only lowering themselves to their position.

without guidanceWe have a duty to lead the next generation to guide our sons and daughters and lead them down the right path. Parents should want their children to be better than they, to succeed where they might have failed; to make something of themselves. When it is left to the media to guide and shape the children they grow up imitating the negative images in an attempt to be cool and “fit in” with their peers who do the same, thinking that it is alright to behave this way because their parents do. What future do we have as a people if we allow this to be what guides future generations?