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Press
Lending an ear and a hand
OPINION - Editorial
San Francisco Examiner 08.21.02
It still isn't easy to be a teenager. This is the first American
generation to grow up with parents afraid to let them play free
outside, the first group in a half-century to see U.S. civilians
attacked en masse. It's the first bunch in a long time to have to
write an essay as part of the SAT college entrance exam.
But it's not the first generation in which many suffer from absent,
selfish or damaged parents. It's not the first group to feel helpless
as their bodies change into adults. It's not the first to feel that
violence is a part of everyday life. It's not the first to feel
like they are going it alone and nobody understands.
And it certainly is not the first generation to suffer through well-intentioned
but goofy public service announcements against drugs, sex ("love
yourself") and violence. So we are glad that San Francisco officers
and youth counselors are reaching out to their charges via the language
of the day: Hip-hop style.
Just as "Daddy-O" could reach a target in the 1950s, "bammer" (phony)
and "jag" (to be the boss) are now part of the code of our urban
teen tribe. And just as it can look bammer for an adult to use the
lingo, it also shows that that grownup is trying to connect, the
same way those four words you mangle out in Spanish can bring a
smile and an openness to the faces of people you meet in Mexico
or the Mission. Because you're trying.
Teens work out their feelings and tell their histories in their
lyrics, and better there than on the streets. They tell stories
of the ever-present violence and drugs and the friends they lose
to them. It is a bit like talk therapy, only better because you
can dance to it.
And they are good storytellers -- The City they describe is easy
to recognize and tough to fix. The SFPD crew and counselors listen
to teens' work and pull out the origin stories of local gangs --
good background. And they hear how kids interpret the actions of
cops and other adults -- good advice when you are facing a sullen
17-year-old. It is this extra effort that can help keep our Gen
Zs on track and ready for this new millennium.
Maybe we all should join in. As Adrienne Sanders reports this week,
city groceries are stocked with CDs from homegrown hip-hop artists.
And an officer says he sees kids' notebooks covered with rap lyrics-in-progress
rather than, say, math equations.
We are seeing the birth of another golden age of poetry -- just
don't use that tired, old word.
Nowadays, we rap.
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