PokéHead

 

(This is a non-fiction Article about how Pokemon has personally affected my life. It is pretty lengthy but very entertaining. It is entitled PokéHead and it shifts back and forth between when I first went to nationals and my childhood.)

I sat across from Alex Hill at the final table for the 2008 Pokémon Trading Card Game State Championships. We were separated from a crowd of spectators that steadily watched us make moves, but did not have any clue as to exactly what was going on within our match. The winner would be decided after the best two out of three games. I had already won one game, and he had managed to break my undefeated streak and win one as well. If I won the match I would get a paid trip to Nationals in Columbus, Ohio.

My stomach was full with nervous emptiness, my mouth was drained dry, and the quick pace of my heart distracted me from all my surroundings. One false move could have caused me the match and there would have been nothing worse in the world than losing after weeks of preparation and years of playing the game. If I loss I knew that my conscious would have been trapped in what I could have, should have, or would have done in order to win. Second place is the most tragic placing that one can get in any type of competition because you were just that close. Alex and I were friends. I had always felt like he was the most humble out of the group of players he hung out with. We joked around while playing the final game, laughing in short high pitches that only perpetuated the seriousness of the match. Pokémon is a selfish game. One could lose to their best friend, father, or the most experienced player, and still feel completely defeated by their loss. As we joked around, I imagined what Alex and his friends would negatively say about me if I won. I had already beaten all of his friends multiple times in previous matches and I knew that they were all cheering for him to avenge their losses.

The advantage was completely in my hands. I was playing a deck designed to beat his. The only reason he managed to successfully win one game was because one of my key cards was stuck in my prizes[1], I had won the first with ease. At the start of the final match I had got an amazing first hand and he struggled to set up as I plowed through his Pokémon, took all six of my prizes, and was declared the winner. My heart beat returned to normal as I extended my hand and triumphantly said, “Good Game.” I had never been so thrilled about anything in my life. To me, Nationals was like the Olympics. I would always stay involved with what was going on from a distance but I never thought I would physically be there. I had heard detailed stories, interesting incidents, but it was nothing that could have thoroughly prepared me for what I would come to experience.

***

I grew up on Pokémon and many young adults today may tell you the same, but they would most definitely be lying. To them Pokémon was an adolescent trend confined to the small screens of their Gameboy Color and the shiny plastic sleeves of their trading card binders. They grew up and traded in their sense of passion for more “mature” hobbies; my passion sparked and never died. For me, Pokémon was a lifestyle. Ever since I received Pokémon Red version with a Gameboy to match for my seventh birthday, I was spellbound by the adventure that was to be found within the game. I didn’t just “catch them all.” My knowledge of the vast amount of creatures wasn’t limited to the basic Squirtle, Bulbasaur, and Pikachu[2]. I knew every creature, all the moves, and when they learned the moves. I knew if they did or didn’t evolve and at what level they would evolve if they did. I knew where you could find each Pokémon in the game and the odds of encountering that Pokémon when you were exploring its specific location. I knew the names of all the cities, gym leaders, elite four members, items, and characters. Every Saturday I would tune into to watch Ash and his Pikachu take on the mischievous Team Rocket in an attempt to be the “very best.” I watched the episodes to the point that I knew each one by heart and memorized the chronological order so that I could tell my friends which particular episode would come on for a span of 5 days without having to look at a television guide. I spent my days oozing over the Pokédex[3] learning all that I possibly could about every little detail of the Pokémon world. If any of my friends ever had some ambiguity about an issue regarding Pokémon they came to me before anyone else and I always had the answer. The children in my third grade class envied me, not only because my knowledge of basic mathematics and linguistics surpassed theirs, but also because I was also very well informed about a game that they thought they felt just as strongly about.

The trading cards brought a whole new element to the trend. When I was young, the trading card game was simply a spectacle for little children to desire extremely rare cards at the dismay of their parents’ wallets. No one cared about organized play, no one knew the rules, and no one battled correctly. It was all about who had the pretty or awesome looking holographic card.

Due to my fathers desire to command my attention after my parents’ divorce, I had been a master of the spectacle, owning all of the big name cards not knowing the value or importance of each one. I went to Pokémon League[4] each weekend to show off all my cards, and my father was often no where to be found, wandering around the store in his Nike sportswear to buy packs, go hide them in his car, and surprise me later. Never did I realize or stop to think about the amount of money that my dad poured into my collections. I would sit there time after time with my dark brown eyes wide with the excitement of a child on Christmas morning; my petite brown hands would shred through the packaging and shuffle quickly to find the shiny rare card. That card for my dad was the incentive for my complete and total alliance with him. To me the rarity of the card was as relevant as just another penny in a piggy bank. Plenty of people had rare cards, but the importance was in the bulk of your collection. The bulk of the cards, like the bulk of one’s weight in many countries, meant that you were a healthy participator. I shamed all of the kids on my street, struggling to drag my fire engine red Radio Flyer Wagon that over-flowing with binders stuffed so thick with cards that the sleeves constantly popped and broke. There was no sense in me bringing my cards outside, because I had already owned all the cards my friends had, but I felt that it was necessary for them to know that I was on top. I had tried activities like basketball and even soccer but I never managed to excel with those while I had become the face of Pokémon in my town. My father was simply glad that I was finally exceptional at something besides academics. He didn’t mind spending money on packs because he felt like it helped contribute to a good cause. I didn’t pick my nose during a Pokémon match like I did when standing dumbfounded on the glossy court in basketball, and I didn’t touch the cards as if they were going to spark an allergic reaction like I did with the dirt covered ball in soccer. As the new Pokémon items hit the shelf I would have my dad to purchase them immediately. My house had with everything, and I was the kid who was lucky to have it all. The white children on my block accepted me as the little black kid who actually had something besides a Mongoose bicycle and a nice pair of Jordans, who had manners unlike the ones that lived on the other side of the railroad tracks, and who didn’t attempt to physically threaten them. Their parents must have thought that mine had worked ridiculously hard to provide me with the material. My Peers foolishly thought it wasn’t fair that I had all the latest Pokémon merchandise long before they did, incorrect, they simply couldn’t match my ambition. That same ambition guided me to my first Pokémon National Championship.

***

Since I was only 17 years of age when I won my trip, my parents were reluctant to allow me to go to Nationals. However, I had acquired a sense of independence long before I even began to competitively play Pokémon. I booked my own flight back home and decided to ride the Greyhound up since I worked there and my ticket would be free. The trip on the Greyhound took an entire day and I had never rode a bus before, but my eagerness relieved any kind of stress I had while on the long haul. I started in Orlando at six in the morning and would travel on the bus until I arrived in Atlanta at three in the afternoon. Once in Atlanta I would make a transfer and continue on until I made it to Columbus at six the next morning. The initial ride to Atlanta wasn’t terribly bad. For the most part I simply played Pokémon on my Gameboy. The seats were more comfortable than I thought hey would be and I felt like they had a decent amount of space. I wasn’t afraid to converse with any of the passengers because I worked with them every day. Many people associate Greyhound passengers with mental illness, poverty, and filth. But the people that ride the Greyhound all have their own story and for the most part, are extremely kind and sincere. On the way to Atlanta I spoke to an elderly woman from Miami who was on her way to see her son in Kentucky. She shared the story of how her son had heroically fought across seas in Iraq, and wished me the best of luck when I told her how far I was traveling simply to play Pokémon. Somewhere between Macon and Atlanta my mother called my phone and the first thing she asked was, “Where are you?”

“In Georgia,” I calmly said looking out the window, watching the tall trees pass me in large green blurs.

“So you got on the bus?” The tension in her voice began to die down. My mother never overacts in any type of situation once it was out of her hands. Since I was already out of Florida she felt that there wasn’t much she could do. “Call me when you make it to Atlanta,” she said. “And be safe,” she continued before hanging up the phone.

Soon after I hung up with her my father called. I let the phone ring a couple of times before answering. Screening my Father’s calls was something that I enjoyed doing, especially when I knew that he was frustrated with me. He screamed into the phone as soon as I picked up, “Who the hell told you to get on that bus?”

I paused before answering. My Father always asked questions that he already knew the answers to and I always give him answers that I knew would piss him off, “I told myself.”

“Oh so you are grown now?”

“No,” I rolled my eyes while shifting in my seat. “I just did not want to miss out on this opportunity.”

The phone was silent on the other end. After I had won States months earlier, it was my father that picked me up from the hotel after refused to leave early with my mother because I had to play in my final matches. He got up out of bed, threw on some clothes, and left his suburban neighborhood to drive deep into the heart of Orlando. Unlike my mother, he understood how much Pokémon meant to me because he had seen my thrill first hand. As we drove back home in the early hours of the night I could tell that he was proud of my accomplishment. He asked to see my large glass trophy and commented on how remarkably heavy it was. At that moment I couldn’t tell if I was more satisfied with winning or with the fact that I had finally made my father proud.

“Make sure you call me as soon as you make it there,” he finally said. I agreed before hanging up and returning to my Gameboy with a smile.

The Atlanta terminal was a glorified portable. A co-worker of mine told me that they had to move the actual station because of the Olympics that took place in Atlanta, and they never moved it back to its original location. After grabbing my bags I went into the small terminal that was bubbling over capacity. It was the end of the summer so people were traveling everywhere and Atlanta is a city that has a lot of transfers. I stood patiently in line for two hours trying to ignore the putrid smell and body heat that plagued the terminal.

At around 5 I boarded the bus for Columbus. Unlike the first bus this one was at full capacity. A kind elderly African-American woman decided to take her seat next to me. On the way up I learned that she and the members of her church were going to Michigan for a convention. When I told her I was going to a convention as well she raised one brow and said, “Pokémon?”

I nodded and eagerly showed her a couple of cards.

“Yeah I remember those,” she leaned closer into the cards. “They used to say that they were demonic,” she looked me directly in my eyes and I quickly put the cards away. The rest of the conversation between us was brief and consisted of “excuse me” and “I’m sorry” as we passed each other to get on and off the bus. I basically had told her I was going to a demon convention and didn’t want her to feel like I was possessed. Sitting next to her, I occasionally looked up from my Gameboy and admired the glorious mountains in Tennessee and went to sleep as the night fell upon our bus.

When morning approached I was finally fully awake again. We had stopped in several places between Tennessee and Kentucky over the night, but I was half awake as we waited for people to get on and get off. It was so interesting to see how different certain cities in America were, especially when compared to the ones that I was so used to in Florida. In Kentucky there were roads that were completely made of rough red bricks and in Cincinnati there were small houses built on top of mountains that looked over the city. Once we were in route to Columbus, I smiled as I watched the bright summer sun shine down upon the plains of bright green grass. With every mile that we took my dream was closer to becoming a reality.

***

Pokémon gave me friends. I am not talking about the nameless people that I met trading on the dirty tiles of Toys R’ Us or the acne plagued teenagers that tried to cheat me out of all my rare cards at the Gathering Place[5]. I mean real friends that I shared more in common with than the universal interest in Pokémon. Pokémon simply acted as a lure to acquire their immediate attention. First there was Hector, a Hispanic boy with skin colored like the red clay that sits a top the hills in Georgia and a chipped tooth that revealed his love for recreation. He taught me how to steal cards from unsuspecting victims and I taught him basic math and how to properly dance when listening to Britney Spears. I was once the person who felt the need to protect their cards from people like Hector but together we worked to acquire even better cards. Never had I been the person to need others’ cards. However I felt that Hector genuinely deserved to have at least a somewhat of a small collection. Since he didn’t know much about the game I had instructed him toward which cards to snatch and once the deed was done we would simply say, “Oh I am sorry we don’t want to trade” and then giggle hysterically about how easy it was to swindle little blonde boys out of their favorite cards. No one had ever challenged us because of his unfriendly temperament combined with my obnoxious attitude that intimidated the young angelic faces we encountered.

Hector introduced me to a trio of brothers and he used Pokémon as a means to do so. “Let’s go to Boobie’s[6] house,” he told them. “He has ALL the best Pokémon cards.”

I met Ometrias, Christian, and Carson Long and was ecstatic that there were actually black kids that lived around the corner from me that had an exceptional amount of knowledge about Pokémon. I spent the night at their house for a week soon after meeting them and we immediately became the best of friends. Ometrias was my age and my best friend. He played the cards but never competitively or fairly. He never played a match outside the walls of his home, but demanded that we get him high demand cards as if he were going to play competitively. Most of his time was spent playing Madden NFL. We would exchange Pokémon matches for a round of throwing the football outside. Christian Long was two years younger than me and the only brother who matched my craze for the game. We were a dynamic duo. He traveled with me to all the major events and I could always count on him for a game. Carson was the youngest; he never really tried to grasp how to play and unfortunately passed of a brain tumor when we all were still young.

With them as my friends, I had abandoned Pokémon and explored Digimon and Yu-Gi-Oh. Digimon was short lived and similar to the spectacle that Pokémon was but Yu-Gi-Oh had a sense of maturity attached to it. Yu-Gi-Oh cards weren’t just to be looked at, they were to be played. I dominated that too, even more than I had dominated Pokémon. My father was right there buying me pack, after pack, after pack. Young and in the 6th grade I triumphed over the elder 8th graders in duels and had a collection that the students constantly plotted to steal. I orchestrated tournaments on my block and distributed all of the prizes. The Longs had a Yu-Gi-Oh collection that was slightly insignificant in comparison to mine so naturally we merged our cards together in order to establish a greater sense of superiority over others. Yu-Gi-Oh had also got us to venture out to card shops and meet children like ourselves, kids who were just as competitive and zealous as we were. It had taught us what the importance of card games were and how the values of the cards had worked. So when we left Yu-Gi-Oh I was able to see Pokémon in a whole new light.

When I returned to Pokémon it was no longer the spectacle that I naively once thought it was. Now logic and skill was involved and I looked at each and every card in a new way. I realized that just because a card was rare, that didn’t necessarily mean that it was good. I learned that the energies[7] that once had seemed worthless and insignificant were crucial to winning a match and the dull trainers[8] with the silly instructions were actually required for a deck to have any sort of consistency. Having one of a card was no longer good enough because full playsets[9] of highly sought after cards were required for your deck to even have a chance at winning. Christian and I went to our first Pokémon State Championship in 2005 and we both finished 3-3 in swiss[10]. From that moment on we simply played Pokémon. We played Pokémon anywhere we could safely set our cards. We battled outside The Longs’ faded pink front door with the unyielding Florida sun causing our bodies to sweat with heat, on the sidewalks of our suburban neighborhood until the mosquitoes would bite us between turns at sundown, on the soda stained carpets of our bedrooms with cards chaotically lying around us, in the musty heat of the garage making sure not to pay attention to the occasional roach that would crawl by, on the tables at local gaming shops that hosted Pokémon League each and every Saturday of the year, on the lunch tables at school while having someone to look out for a meddling teacher that simply didn’t understand the importance of our cards, on the leather seats of cars while riding to football and tennis practice, and even at dine in restaurants while we impatiently waited for our food. We played until our eyes became dry with blood red veins and stomachs howled with the absence of food. There was no getting tired of it, each game had so many new possibilities and outcomes from the last and there were so many decks to perfect and master. Christian and I wanted to be the best and we didn’t waste a second not trying. We would jokingly call each other a PokéHead[11] because it was an uncompromising addiction that we could not shake.

Pokémon began to find its way into every part of my life. I spent my free time in class vigorously writing down new combos and deck ideas so that I could construct them to test. My social networking time wasn’t spent observing profiles on MySpace but scrutinizing posts on PokéGym[12]. I would play my Gameboy even if I was eating dinner, riding in a car, on the toilet, or in church. The testing paid off and we continued to get better. I went from being a nameless noob[13] to the notorious JokerBoi that was nowhere near an easy opponent. I developed a distinct play style and image, always taking chances and trying rogue[14] ideas that gained me the respect of the elite members of the community. I consistently began to top at many tournaments, sitting around players that I had once looked up to and admired. Christian was able to hold his own eventually winning States and Regionals back to back in the Senior[15] division and then going on to top 16 at Nationals that same year.

***

As I rode on that Greyhound bus the essence of all my hard work and dedication ran through me. I arrived in Columbus with a backpack, a suitcase, and an address. The terminal was much different from the one that I knew and originated from in Orlando. It was extremely clean with all white tile and walls like a doctor’s office. Even with my age, there was no sympathy for me as the employee reluctantly gave me directions to the convention center. I knew that all Greyhound employees had been issued a statement to look out for all runaways, but I guess my determination was enough to get him to give me the address. Frightened to death of Taxicabs, I walked admiring the tall buildings that reminded me of the skyscrapers I had seen in New York. Everything was so foreign to me. The people talked funny and had no sense of manners, there was a cool chill in the air that completely undermined the fact that it was the end of June, and the streets were so foggy and busy. Walking down the crowded downtown street I carried a suitcase in my right hand and had a large backpack full of cards pulled tightly around my shoulders. I cursed myself for being from Orlando and looking like such a tourist in public.

The event was held at a hotel that reminded me of the large ones that we have all across Orlando. There was a large structure made completely out of glass that led you down to the convention center by means of an escalator. A man sat behind a small desk at the ground floor. In order to get into the event you had to have purchased a badge or won one in a competition. “Do you already have a badge waiting for you?” He asked.

“Yes,” I responded, smiling from ear to ear. “Pokémon,”

He went into the back to search out my badge. I stood straight with pride. Many players actually paid to come to Nationals each year and brought a badge with money out of their own pocket, but all of that was already done for me. After he came back and handed me my badge, he gave me instructions to the room where the Pokémon event was being held.

***

I never grew out of Pokémon. Instead I grew with Pokémon. Pokémon matured gaining new creatures, new mechanics, new versions and a whole new look. I matured as well, left Cartoon Network for MTV, started to go see late night movies with my friends, stopped playing outside until the streetlights sparked on and started staying inside on the Internet until it was time for bed. My interest in Pokémon was like the lovable dog that would never leave my side. All the dangers of young adulthood inevitably affected me. I dabbled within premature sex, developed an unexpected nicotine addiction, struggled with uncompromising acne, and Pokémon was there with me through it all. When I had finally accepted my sexuality at the dismay of my father who had once been the top endorser of my trading card obsession, my undying interest in Pokémon was a way for him to connect with the little boy that he had once felt so close to. I was “grown” as my parents would cautiously call it. With my own car and newfound mobility I began to frequent alternative nightclubs, skip school every other day and spend my days window-shopping with random guys at the mall, and even experiment with the art of female impersonation. I made many changes. I exchanged my baggy jeans for skinny ones, replaced my athletic sneakers for boots and colorful vans, and slipped into t-shirts that hugged my body closely. Pokémon had changed too. There were new characters on the show, different types and attacks, double battles were introduced, each Pokémon was given a special ability that they could use in or outside of battle, physical and special moves that were once type specific had become move specific. I never faced the changes with indifference; instead I looked to them with confidence, feeling regretful if I was to allow myself to stop being that third grade PokéBraniac that I was in elementary school. My new, older friends would give me a look that screamed, “What the hell are you doing?” as I steadily battled trainers on my Nintendo DS. They would attempt to play my games and complain about how Pokémon had become so unfamiliar and that it was simply “too much” now. I would giggle at their inability to comprehend and continue to play my game. I looked at Pokémon like I looked at myself; although it had changed in some ways, when you stripped everything away it was still the same game that everyone fell in love with during their childhood.

***

Still carrying my suitcase, I made my way down to the main event room. The room was one of the vastest areas of space I had ever laid eyes on. There were more than one thousand people in attendance and that was just for Pokemon alone. The sheer amount of chairs and tables seemed infinite. The familiar faces that greeted me eased some of the tension I still had from the bus ride and the new friendly faces made my experience all the more better. I was able to put faces with popular names that I chatted with on forums. I didn’t care about the fact that I hadn’t bathed in an entire day or that I didn’t know exactly where I was going to stay, I just wanted to play Pokemon. Upon looking up and seeing the large inflatable Pikachu that floated at the roof of the gaming room, I knew I was home.

Footnotes:

[1] Before the game starts, players put 6 cards off the top of their decks facedown. These facedown cards are called prizes and the players cannot access them until they KO a Pokémon. When a player KOs six Pokémon (taking all six of their prizes) they are declared the winner

[2] Popular Pokémon creatures

[3] A device designed to catalogue and provide information on each species of Pokémon

[4] Pokémon players in a metropolitan area meet to play the game. It is usually held a card shop or Toys R’ Us

[5] A popular trading card shop in central Florida

[6] My childhood nickname

[7] A type of Pokémon card that is required if a Pokémon wants to perform an attack

[8] A type of Pokémon card that assists a player in battle either by allowing him/her to draw cards, search their deck, disrupt their opponent, etc…

[9] 4 copies of a single card because no more than 4 copies of one card can be played in a deck

[10] Players play a certain number of rounds without being eliminated and based on their performance in those rounds they progress to the single elimination rounds

[11] A play on the term “Crackhead”, Pokémon was like a drug to us

[12] A forum that is primarily for Pokémon players to share thoughts and ideas about the game

[13] A novice or newcomer

[14] A type of deck that is not considered competitive

[15] In Pokémon there are 3 different age divisions. Juniors: Ages 10 and under, Seniors: Ages 11-14, and Masters: Ages 15 and up

Dr. Phil says "No Girl Toys for Boys"

Current on his show Dr. Phil recommended that a mother whose son likes to play with girl's toys not to encourage his behavior. While the doctor doesn't believe that homosexual behavior is not learned and is not a choice, he still recommends not that the mother not encourage any type of irregular behavior within her child. Here are some quotes pulled straight from the doctor:

“There are developmental stages in kids and it is not unusual, particularly for young boys, to experiment and get stuck on certain stimulus items. Particularly because the little boy has two older sisters, he says, it’s not unusual."

“This is not a precursor to your son being gay, He’ll know that in time, but this is not an indication of his sexual orientation."

“Direct your son in an unconfusing way. Don’t buy him Barbie dolls or girl’s clothes. You don’t want to do things that seem to support the confusion at this stage of the game … Take the girl things away, and buy him boy toys.”

“Support him in what he’s doing, but not in the girl things.”

“And if your son is gay, he’ll learn that when he passes puberty and gets into a lifestyle and determines what his orientation is, and his lifestyle will flow from that. It won’t be a choice; it will be something that he’s pre-wired to do, and he’ll know that in plenty of time if he’s an adult. But you shouldn’t take this as an indication of that at this point.”

While I do agree with some of the things that Dr. Phil says there are also some things that I don't. First and foremost, I believe if any child is going to have an affinity toward girl's toys then having siblings that are sisters are not going to influence or take away from that affinity. There are many children out there who are a only child or have brothers that still have taken a liking to girl's toys. While I do agree that this is not an indicator that the boy is gay, I must disagree with Dr. Phil recommending that she discourage her child from playing with the barbies, as this may confuse him more. I do not think she should buy him barbies, but at the same time if he is playing with his sister's toys then she shouldn't interrupt him. 

This situation reminds me of mother Sheryl Kilodavis and her son Dyson. I talked about this subject in a earlier post, the link can be found here: http://robbiejolie.blogspot.com/2011/01/response-my-princess-boy.html

I wonder what Dr. Phil would have to say about that situation. 

Nicki Minaj: Redefining Female Rap Music

Out Magazine Shoot

      Until this past year female rap had basically died out and became non-existent. Former MCs who had once dominated the game such as Lil’ Kim, Trina, and Eve had progressively become less and less relevant and people began to lose hope in the ability of female rap to be recognized in the mainstream. In 2005 the Grammy’s removed the category for Best Female Rap Performance due to the small pool of nominees to choose from.

         In 2010 New York native Nicki Minaj single handedly put female rap music back into the mainstream. Her catchy lyrics, unique style, and distinct personality have enabled her to capture the attention of Millions. MTV named her the 6^th hottest MC in the game for the year of 2010 before she had even released an album. Her debut album, “Pink Friday” has recently been certified platinum by the RIAA in only six weeks of its release. She has been featured on a plethora of tracks from notable artists ranging from Mariah Carey to Kanye West. Her followers on the social network twitter exceed 2 million, and she constantly appears on popular celebrity blogging sites. Many people scratch their head when pondering how Nicki Minaj has been able to become so relevant at a time where female rap was thought to be such an irrelevant matter. The to understand the answer to these questions one must closely examine Nicki’s collection of work and rise to fame.

          The transition of Nicki Minaj’s music from her early mixtapes to “Pink Friday” is essential to understanding how she was successfully able to redefine female rap music. Throughout history in society the minority is always forced to conform to the customs of the majority in order to be acknowledged and seen as important in society. For example, cut a women’s hair and put her in a pantsuit and she becomes seen as powerful and threatening; give a black man a decent job and education and he may be escape the hood that he was raised in and be able to live a calm suburban life. In terms of the rap industry, female MCs must mimic the style and flow of male rappers and exhibit that they can be just as “hard” or “tough” as their male counter parts, and since the dawn of artist like Lil’ Kim and Trina female MCs have always been expected to have a certain level of sex appeal. Nicki Minaj used this truth in order to raise eyebrows with her first two mixtapes Playtime is Over and Sucka free. Minaj appeared on Lil Wayne’s edition of The Come Up DVD series through this people were able to get a feel for who she was as an artist and the tough but sexy image she used to brand herself. Her voice was strong and demanding and her flow and delivery as threatening as the beat to whichever song she was on. This caught the attention of rap artist Lil Wayne. Minaj’s feature in the come up highlights who she was as a up and coming artist and the image that she felt she had to give in order to be respected and acknowledged.

Sucka Free Poster

Minaj had a promotional poster for Sucka Free that featured her with her legs spread open licking on a lollipop. The sexually explicit poster coupled with her street lyrics and harsh flow featured on both mixtapes was enough to get people in the rap industry to notice her. She spit on top of beats by the late great Biggie Smalls, other female rappers, and popular hip-hop songs.  Using familiar beats helped to make listeners feel comfortable when listening to her music, not only that she was able to come after established artists and create favorable music with their beats. She rapped about drugs, violence, sex, and money in many of her initial tracks because she knew that it was mandatory for her to gain any type of recognition within the industry and it was what consumers wanted to hear. In addition to this, Minaj used her first two mixtapes to sell herself as an artist and exhibit why she was the best when compared to others like her, which is exactly what any aspiring artist should do. Her voice on most of her tracks was really deep and desensitized, some of her lyrics included “slap bitches with the back of the pump”, “Damn Imma have to send her to her maker”, and “Bitch get at me imma pay my henchmen.” Her lyrics included a sense of homophobia and masculinity like that of many male rappers. Tracks such as Click-Clack, Warning, Dead Wrong, and 40 bars exude a hard New-York style, while tracks such as Sticks In My Bun and Dreams give a sexier side of Minaj that clarifies Nicki’s is in attunement with her sexuality, a trait essential to any modern female MC. Some of the most valuable pieces of her early mixtapes are tracks like Wuchoo Know, Playtime Is Over, and Jump Off 07 as they strongly display her smooth flow and demonstrate that she has the ability to write sensible puns, similes and metaphors. With Playtime is Over and Sucka Free Minaj victoriously gained the attention of the rap community, however her style and appearance really didn’t distinguish her from other female artists that had already done what she was attempting to do. While it was necessary for her to come hard with her lyrics and advertise herself as a sex symbol it wasn’t enough to really break her into the mainstream because that was the image of female rap that caused its death. With the help of Lil Wayne she created her next mixtape Beam Me Up Scotty and started her process of redefining her image and what we knew to be female rap.

Beam Me Up Scotty cover

          Beam Me Up Scotty was completely a 360 from Nicki Minaj’s first two mixtapes. The mixtape features her both singing and rapping on tracks and signifies the birth of her Barbie image and her use of multiple voices/personalities. Beam Me Up Scotty allowed Nicki Minaj to separate her self from female rappers who all had similar styles and voices. There had been animated MCs such as Missy Elliot, sex-centralized rappers such as Trina and Lil Kim, hardcore rappers like foxy brown and Eve.  What made Minaj special was that she embodied all of these traits into one persona. On her tracks Itty-Bitty Piggy, Go Hard, and Envy Minaj displays her ability to effortlessly switch up her flow and successfully gets away with screaming and yelling on her tracks. Her voice in I Get Crazy ranges from soft and sweet to hard and wacky with her off the wall lyrics mimicking this style.  In the song Beam Me Up Scotty she uses a Caribbean accent while rapping to compliment the reggae beat and on the mixtape’s outro she talks with a decent British accent giving thanks to Lil’ Wayne. While she presents a great amount of range in Beam Me Up Scotty Nicki doesn’t completely abandon the style she rapped with on her first two mixtapes. On Get Silly and Baddest Bitch she revives the Sucka Free/Playtime is Over Nicki. She shows off her vocal skills with the sentimental tracks Still I Rise and Can Anybody Hear Me. Beam Me Up Scotty is what really put Nicki on the map. The amount of diversity she displays on the tape is unprecedented when compared to that of any rapper, male or female.

          Female rappers have been known to come out behind the support of established male rappers. Popular pairs include Lil Kim and Biggie, Trina and Trick Daddy, Shawna and Ludacris. Nicki was signed to Young Money Entertainment and was primarily brought to the forefront by Lil’ Wayne. What is important to understand about this situation however is how Nicki was able to hold her own and dominate with Wayne being in prison. During the entire year of 2010 Nicki Minaj was the name on everyone’s lips and she was able to accomplish this simply through features. Minaj branded herself, strongly sold her image, and did things to catch the public attention. Calling herself a “Barbie” and wearing pink hair that went down the sides of her ridiculously curvatious body all went into selling her image. As with her musical style and lyrics, Nicki Minaj does not constrain her image and that is what made her stand out within her features. In the video for My Chick Bad by Ludacris, not only does Minaj rap about iconic horror villains but she appears tied in a straight jacket donning a pink wig, jet black lips, and a Freddy Krueger glove. Not only were the lyrics unusual for rappers period, Minaj’s look was so outlandish that it commanded the public’s entire interest. Minaj was able to attract attention and buzz without appearing in revealing outfits with hair and make up that is appealing.  In looking at features,

My Chick Bad 

My Chick Bad was simply the start of features that would help shape Minaj’s image in 2010. She appeared on Usher’s Lil’ Freak with two toned Cruella Deville hair rapping out Santa’s reindeer, Dirty Money’s Hello Good Morning with a curly blue lace front, and Trey Song’s Bottom’s Up screaming as if she had Tourette’s and paying homage to the late Anna Nicole smith. While her temperament changes from feature to feature she still remains true to her individual style and aesthetic. Minaj uses her lyrics and voice to enforce female empowerment and break away from the stigma associated with female rappers by focusing her lyrics on the themes of the songs and using unconventional puns, metaphors, and similies instead of themes associated with sex, money, and violence. Nicki Minaj's consistency made her the face of female hip-hop for 2010, a face that gave life to an absolutely dead institution.  She became personal with her fans by making live appearances on U-stream, she created her own personal dictionary and called it the “Nicktionary”, and she began signing breasts at public appearances. It is speculated that Nicki Minaj’s makeup is gimmicky and not true to her character as a person, suggesting that all of the outlandish things she does are simply cries for attention. If this assertion is true then Nicki Minaj is laughing all the way to the bank. In her most notorious feature on Kanye West’s Monster she states “And if I’m fake, I ain’t notice cause my money ain’t” addressing all of those who speculated her authenticity. With Monster Minaj gained the respected of anyone who had ever doubted her as a rap artist. Many agree that she had the best verse on the track and it is unanimously agreed that her verse was phenomenal. On the track she effortlessly switches throughout all three of her personalities Barbie, Nicki and Roman in order to give listeners a feel of who she is and how she has succeeded in her quest to make an impact within the rap game. She points out all of her features that she is criticized about and makes the point of how obsolete these criticisms are when compared to her success, describing her self as a monster.  Nicki Minaj’s triumphant rise in 2010 paved the way for the success of her debut album Pink Friday.

Pink Friday Cover

          Pink Friday, Minaj’s debut album is the final key to understanding how she has changed the definition of female rap. The cover of the album is entirely pink and features Minaj sitting with no arms and elongated legs, appearing almost doll-like. Her dramatic pink dress that she wears on the cover is not at all revealing and her expression isn’t sexually enticing but almost comical and weird. Nicki Minaj’s Pink Friday cover is not what traditionally thought of as Rap, especially Female Rap whose covers feature half naked women in sexually suggestive positions. Pink Friday’s cover could be more closely related to that of a pop album. Marketing is a key factor within looking at the cover; it is pleasant and has a strong sense of juvenilism. The most predominant buyers of music today are female teenagers; Nicki’s cover appeals to the eye of these consumers while staying true to her “Barbie” image. The “pop” cover is an interesting aspect because many believe that the album’s genre to actually be pop. This belief is almost laughable. Beats do not make the music genre nor do the lyrics, it is the way that the two are combines that serves to create the genre. While tracks like Check It Out, Roman’s Revenge, and Your Love have beats that may not conventionally sound like rap or hip-hop, Nicki Minaj is able to take these beats and make them believable additions to the hip-hop genre with her lyrics and rhetoric. Above any of the tracks Check It Out comes off as extremely poppy, Minaj challenges this beat with her popular verse at the end, which clearly embodies all qualities of Rap. Roman’s Revenge, probably the albums most celebrated track, features a beat that is computerized and futuristic but Minaj’s rough, unsympathetic tone when rhyming on the track paired with rap icon Eminem’s notorious Slim Shady character makes Roman’s Revenge a strong rap track. Pink Friday, like Beam Me Up Scotty, demonstrates Nicki Minaj’s array of versatility. She has songs that are inspirational and empowering (Last Chance, I’m the Best, Fly, Blazin’, Moment 4 Life, Girls Fall Like Dominoes), songs about love and relationships (Right Through Me, Your Love), Songs that demonstrate a hard rap style (Did it on ‘em, Roman’s Revenge), and songs that are personal and sentimental (Here I am, Dear Old Nicki, Save Me). She downplays the negativity found in hip-hop music and replaces it with themes of fashion, capitalization, and feminism. She was able to blend pieces of pop, hip-hop, rap, r&b, and make it work. Pink Friday let it be known that Nicki Minaj is the most dominant face of female MCs and is the premiere album in a new age of female rap music.

Ebony Photoshoot

Think of Nicki Minaj as a cell phone. If a person wanted to buy a cell phone they could purchase a phone that only could be used for calling and texting and be just fine with communication. However, in modern times a phone that can only simply call and text is not seen as much of a phone. People desire phones that not only can call and text but serve as an MP3 player or GPS system, connect them to their favorite social networks, allow them to check their e-mail and favorite websites, and even chat visually instead of vocally. The success of the iPhone and Blackberry can be attributed to their undisputable amount of versatility. Technology has redefined what we thought of as a phone just as Nicki Minaj has done with female rap. She is not just limited to “calling and texting” and has a wide variety of features. Through this variety she was able to distinguish her self from all the other basic phones and give rebirth and recognition to what we know as female rap. 

Response: My Princess Boy

Recently in the media mother Sheryl Kilodavis has appeared on several talk shows promoting her book My Princess Boy. The book is based on her 5-year old son Dyson who enjoy's dressing in dresses, pink clothing, and glittery apparel. The video below is when he and his mother appeared on New Day.

Sheryl and her son also made an appearance on the today show.

I believe this to be a positive step in the movement towards acceptance and tolerance of diversity in America. Due to my uneasiness with the public's response that I have seen about this topic I have decided to make a video to share my thoughts:

Light Skin Vs. Darkskin. Plus Young Money Controversy.

Recently popular celebrity blogger Necole Bitchie posted a e-mail that she received from one of her followers. Within the e-mail the follower describes how she had an encounter with Lil Wayne and his Rap Group young money and how they blatantly made it clear that light skin were more desirable than dark-skin women. The comments made by Young Money offended the follower as she was dark-skin.

Following the controversy sparked by this blog post Lil Wayne and Mack Maine took to twitter to clear the air.

"Just read the funniest blog story ever about me and my fam... We color blind over here.. If a female is beautiful she's beautiful!! Luv" -Mack Maine via Twitter.

"Rumors are as dumb as the people who believe them" -Lil' Wayne via Twitter.

While Lil' Wayne discredits the authenticity of the encounter, his lyrics seem to speak for themselves:

“I like redbone, pretty feet, slim waist, cute face” -I Took Her

“I like a long hair, thick, red bone” -Every Girl

“Beaufitul black woman, I bet that bitch look better red” -Right Above It

You can find the original post here:

http://necolebitchie.com/2011/01/06/did-lil-wayne-really-say-that/

---

This recent issue that highlights the never ending struggle within the black community's perception of lightskin vs. darkskin reminded me of a video that I had made talking about the issue:

In the video I discuss the problems that stem from this stiga, where it comes from, and the probability of it changing. 

I was inspired by the short documentary entitled a Girl Like Me which also examines this issue: