On Afropunk & Being Black and kinda Weird
I’ll be honest, I never felt included in what is assumed by other Black people to be Black culture.
I’ve always felt like an outsider, even from a very young age. Before I discovered rock music or before I cared to dye my hair pink- before I thought being a musician was a viable option- I was different.
At the very basis of my being, I’m a weirdo-outsider. Everything that exists in my life I have to explain to people, as there’s nothing simple about me. I’m from West Philly, but I spoke like a suburban kid. I was really tall for my age. I liked to read instead of jumping double Dutch. I liked computers instead of sneakers. I was home schooled. I have that weird parental lineage thing going on. I started going to College when I was 13 going on 14. I even have to explain myself to people when I sneeze.
A lot of this explanation started when I was young. Most conversations were inspired by other neighborhood kids who didn’t or couldn’t understand me. I was anomaly. I was born and raised in the middle of West Philadelphia, but I spoke very, “White,” as defined by the neighbor kids. They would ask me questions while we sat on the front steps of my row-home: “Are you from the country?” “Why you talk like that?”
I always loved music. I loved music from the very beginning of my life. I would sing songs, make up songs, and sing along with whatever was playing. My mother and I had a very musical household when I was young. She would listen to music and we would dance and sing in the living room and upset the neighbors with how loud Jimi Hendrix was. I would rock the hell out in my room as a little kid to Paula, Michael and Janet. I loved MTV in the 80’s and I embraced 80’s style as a little kid. My mom let me pick out my own clothes, and I selected my own outfits in the morning. I would wear 3 pairs of different colored socks, and bright neon clothes at around 6 or 7.
As a tween and teenager, I discovered grunge and alternative rock. What a miracle! Rock music was very much a part of my life. I lived for the local Alternative Rock station, WDRE. The music was a part of my life, and I was a part of the music. I embraced the grunge culture (maybe a little too much), I wore old hand-me-down flannel given to me by my grandfather, and beat up jeans I’d had since I was 12. Nirvana, Screaming Trees, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette, Nine Inch Nails and eventually No Doubt became a defining factor in who I would become as an adult, at least musically.
Still, I felt like an outsider. My friends didn’t really care about music, and the music they did like was more traditionally black. Rap. Hip-hop.
Now as an adult, I am still explaining myself to people, but in a more indirect way. People don’t come out and say, “Why do you talk like that, Black Person, you are Black, that doesn’t make any sense,” or “Oh, your band isn’t some kind of soul/R&B/funk thing? That surprises me because you are Black, and Black people don’t normally do rock music.”
I listen to rock music and create rock music.
And only a few months ago, I was internally bleeding from my desire to hear more from other black rock bands. I wanted to see where the people like me were. I was exhausted from a lifelong isolation. Isolation due to who I am- Isolated from the people who are like who I am, and everyone else as well.
Then I randomly discovered Afro Punk. It was like finding Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, Moses- the Messenger of the word in which I believed came to me in the form of a Festival and website! Provided by people who looked like me. Performed by people who looked like me. Attended by people who looked like me. Hallelujah! Praise C Major and the Holy Root Chord! I was included, I felt like I belonged at a concert for perhaps the first time in my entire life. I danced with *MY* brothers and sisters. For the first time in my life I felt like my people, My Black People accepted me and loved me, without judgment or a qualification of being “Black Enough.” I was just enough. I was Black with them. They loved me. And I loved them. I didn’t feel like an outsider anymore. I felt acceptance and camaraderie and a magic that can only be expressed by love.
<3
Pam
I’ve always felt like an outsider, even from a very young age. Before I discovered rock music or before I cared to dye my hair pink- before I thought being a musician was a viable option- I was different.
At the very basis of my being, I’m a weirdo-outsider. Everything that exists in my life I have to explain to people, as there’s nothing simple about me. I’m from West Philly, but I spoke like a suburban kid. I was really tall for my age. I liked to read instead of jumping double Dutch. I liked computers instead of sneakers. I was home schooled. I have that weird parental lineage thing going on. I started going to College when I was 13 going on 14. I even have to explain myself to people when I sneeze.
A lot of this explanation started when I was young. Most conversations were inspired by other neighborhood kids who didn’t or couldn’t understand me. I was anomaly. I was born and raised in the middle of West Philadelphia, but I spoke very, “White,” as defined by the neighbor kids. They would ask me questions while we sat on the front steps of my row-home: “Are you from the country?” “Why you talk like that?”
I always loved music. I loved music from the very beginning of my life. I would sing songs, make up songs, and sing along with whatever was playing. My mother and I had a very musical household when I was young. She would listen to music and we would dance and sing in the living room and upset the neighbors with how loud Jimi Hendrix was. I would rock the hell out in my room as a little kid to Paula, Michael and Janet. I loved MTV in the 80’s and I embraced 80’s style as a little kid. My mom let me pick out my own clothes, and I selected my own outfits in the morning. I would wear 3 pairs of different colored socks, and bright neon clothes at around 6 or 7.
As a tween and teenager, I discovered grunge and alternative rock. What a miracle! Rock music was very much a part of my life. I lived for the local Alternative Rock station, WDRE. The music was a part of my life, and I was a part of the music. I embraced the grunge culture (maybe a little too much), I wore old hand-me-down flannel given to me by my grandfather, and beat up jeans I’d had since I was 12. Nirvana, Screaming Trees, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette, Nine Inch Nails and eventually No Doubt became a defining factor in who I would become as an adult, at least musically.
Still, I felt like an outsider. My friends didn’t really care about music, and the music they did like was more traditionally black. Rap. Hip-hop.
Now as an adult, I am still explaining myself to people, but in a more indirect way. People don’t come out and say, “Why do you talk like that, Black Person, you are Black, that doesn’t make any sense,” or “Oh, your band isn’t some kind of soul/R&B/funk thing? That surprises me because you are Black, and Black people don’t normally do rock music.”
I listen to rock music and create rock music.
And only a few months ago, I was internally bleeding from my desire to hear more from other black rock bands. I wanted to see where the people like me were. I was exhausted from a lifelong isolation. Isolation due to who I am- Isolated from the people who are like who I am, and everyone else as well.
Then I randomly discovered Afro Punk. It was like finding Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, Moses- the Messenger of the word in which I believed came to me in the form of a Festival and website! Provided by people who looked like me. Performed by people who looked like me. Attended by people who looked like me. Hallelujah! Praise C Major and the Holy Root Chord! I was included, I felt like I belonged at a concert for perhaps the first time in my entire life. I danced with *MY* brothers and sisters. For the first time in my life I felt like my people, My Black People accepted me and loved me, without judgment or a qualification of being “Black Enough.” I was just enough. I was Black with them. They loved me. And I loved them. I didn’t feel like an outsider anymore. I felt acceptance and camaraderie and a magic that can only be expressed by love.
<3
Pam