Megan Thee Stallion showed off her impeccable freestyle skills in a new video posted to her social media accounts and rest assured, she did not come to play. “I don’t announce my moves. I like to keep s**t private. Just know a b***h been working when I been too silent,” Megan raps. “I got a nasty lil’ fetish, I’m a nasty lil’ b***h, I love to s**t on these n****s, I love to piss off a b***h, I don’t announce my moves, I like to keep s**t private, just know a b***h been workin’ when I been too silent, all you hoes could suck my p***y, disrespectfully, how a hoe gon’ punk me out my spot that can’t get next to me?” she continues. "Any n***a publicly hatin’ is makin’ less than me.”Was re inspired by this beat so here’s another freestyle to it 😛🔥 pic.twitter.com/sbudeGzX0p— TINA SNOW (@theestallion) August 12, 2021 Fans swiftly took to social media to praise the rapper for showcasing her talents and were overwhelmingly supportive of the Houston native's witty...

Prolific hip-hop and R&B music producer Chucky Thompson has passed away due to COVID-19 complications, according to multiple reports. "It is with a very heavy heart that I can confirm the passing of Chucky Thompson," his publicist Tamar Juda said in a statement posted to Twitter. "To anyone in his orbit, you know how generous he was with his energy, creativity and love. Both the music industry and the world has lost a titan."It is with a very heavy heart that I can confirm the passing of Chucky Thompson. To anyone in his orbit, you know how generous he was with his energy, creativity and love. Both the music industry, and the world has lost a titan. pic.twitter.com/jTUl9BNfK4— Tamar Juda (@LastWordPR) August 9, 2021Johnson was a part of Sean “Diddy” Combs’ core team of in-house producers called “Hitmen” at Bad Boy Records, a music label founded by the media mogul in 1993. During his career, the Washington, D.C. native helped create iconic tracks and multi-platinum-certified albums that propelled Bad Boy into the public consciousness, including Mary J. Blige’s second album My Life and Biggie Smalls' 1994 debut album Ready to Die.“A music legend for the DMV and the world. Not only laced so many classic hits, but also continued to show so much love for the DC area. RIP Chucky Thompson,” WNBA music artist DJ Heat wrote on Twitter.Thompson wrote and produced most of the tracks including “Mary Jane (All Night Long)” and “You Bring Me Joy” on Blige's My Life album. As for Ready to Die, the producer brought in influences like the Isley Brothers for the hit “Big Poppa,” solidifying the old-school-meets-new sound that reverberated throughout hip-hop/R&B in the mid 1990s.In addition, Thompson also produced music for artists like Tevin Campbell, New Edition, TLC, Busta Rhymes and Jennifer...

Diddy revealed in the September issue of Vanity Fair that he is launching a new record label that will be exclusively for R&B artists.  View this post on Instagram A post shared by Vanity Fair (@vanityfair)“Yeah, all R&B label, because I feel like R&B was abandoned and it’s a part of our African American culture," he told the magazine.In the past, Diddy has been accused of mismanaging his artists including Danity Kane. In 2020, Danity Kane member Aubrey O'Day said Diddy stole money from the group, according to HipHop DX. In the same year, Mase called out the media mogul for exploiting his artists and said he failed at buying his masters from him, according to Billboard.  But while the media mogul is optimistic about his new project and turning over a new leaf, Twitter is not here for...

If you’re interested in sharing your opinion on any cultural, political or personal topic, create an account here and check out our how-to post to learn more.Opinions are the writer’s own and not those of Blavity's.____I am gay and I am a 12-year HIV-positive survivor.When it comes to my personal health and sexual activity, I’m an open book. This is not done to be braggadocious or to present myself as an antithesis to people who chose to “move in silence.” It’s quite the contrary. I appreciate those who can and do operate on a “need to know basis,” some of the very people that DaBaby disrespected in his homo/queer antagonistic, sexist and HIV-adversarial rant from his performance at the Rolling Loud music festival in Miami this past weekend.But it is the silence that continues to have public figures like DaBaby reveal themselves as the dangerous problem that they are. (They have never just been problematic. They are a problem, full stop.) Make no mistake that he has made himself quite known where he stands in regards to the role of mainstream rappers continuing the old tried and true narrative of being a lethal combination of sexist, misogynistic and homoantagonistic. His consistent online trolling of Megan Thee Stallion was exacerbated further by purposely bringing her accused abuser, Tory Lanez, on stage with him as a “surprise guest” performer (right after Megan’s set on the same stage).It is never a surprise, as birds of a feather all fall from the same tree.I have read a few reactions to what he said; of course, I’ve seen T.I.’s also unsurprising, yet just ridiculous defense of what DaBaby had to say. (Just another bird with the same feather.) I‘ve also seen viral debates taking place pretty much asking the same question: Why?Why did DaBaby go on this “sudden” and uncalled for tirade, and why did he choose queer men as the target? Some of the answers have sickened me. Some are going on to assume that perhaps DaBaby is suffering from some sort of internalized feelings of queerness on his behalf. Full. On. Stop.What I will not be silent about, nor allow, is the narrative to shift onto him in any form that remotely resembles pity. Not only is there no evidence that he has ever dabbled or even thought about having relations with another queer person, but it is also an unnecessary juncture from the issue at hand — which was what he said. What he said on that public stage was unnecessarily directly hostile to people who live with the HIV infection every day, women (by questioning their health and cleanliness) and those who take part in sexual behaviors deemed deviant. Even if it is true that he is suppressing some sort of feelings of queerness, even curiosity, nobody should be given space to be so visceral in their speech towards anybody, especially to those who have done absolutely nothing to him.Unfortunately, the space to be outrightly affronted is allowed for queer people, women and people living with HIV, isn’t it? What remains both infuriating and saddening to me is that people, even women and people of the queer experience, will defend people like DaBaby.In his ill-received response to the backlash, he stated “even my gay fans got standards.” Is this a compliment? Is he saying this as a newsflash, as if it is unknown that gay people all over this planet have “standards?” And why are your “standards” of not living with HIV, “p***y [not] smelling like water” or giving/receiving fellatio in a parking lot the 11th, 12th and 13th commandments?Best believe, there are some holier than thou queer “saints” who have chimed in celebrating DaBaby’s nonsense, some advocating that we “educate” him. I would like to know why in 2021 we think that people are deserving of grace when doing the most deplorable things. What happened to there being certain lines that just need not be crossed and certain things that should not be done? And why is disparaging harmless people not on that list? DaBaby, contradictory to his stage name, will turn 30 years old in December. He is a grown man. He and others like him know exactly what they are doing. The voices of support may be loud. But the voices of dissent will be louder, so help me God.What exactly are we dissenting? Well, I’m just going to call a thing a thing: we are dissenting and dismissing trash performers who not only spew out misinformation but are unapologetic in their misdeeds. When the first point of action to a sleuth of people calling you out for your words and/or actions is to tell them to “shut the f**k up,” you are further revealing yourself as a malignant problem, one that needs to be removed.The subsequent, much-too-late and disingenuous PR-written apologies are not going to save you. Not this time.I will shift and say that I am proud to see on my social media feed that most of my friends are both loud in their outrage and are staunch in their subsequent removal of DaBaby from their playlists. On the other hand, I would like to see that removal translated elsewhere. I would love to wake up tomorrow to see that DaBaby has been removed from future touring and performance dates, or that his music streams have plummeted. I want more artists to be financially penalized for the messages they send. Not too long ago, depending on where I lived and worked, I could have been fired from my job as a teacher because I’m gay. There is no reason why certain people get a pass. However, I will not hold my breath because it is the end of July — the month of performative pride, solidarity and support has been over for a while now. This is the message that queer people, people living with HIV and [Black] women consistently receive: we are disposable, seen as nothing more than the subject and brunt of everybody else’s jokes, storylines and tyrannical histrionics. It is damned time that “the powers that be” put their money where their mouth is (since fellatio has been brought up already).Stop supporting and giving platforms to these trash-ass individuals who serve no other purpose than to cause chaos in the name of “entertainment.” If we want to discuss protecting children, how about removing problem "faves" from their view. Alternatively, they will continue operating in silence and send the message that situations like DaBaby’s antics are entertaining to you. ...

If you’re interested in sharing your opinion on any cultural, political or personal topic, create an account here and check out our how-to post to learn more.Opinions are the writer’s own and not those of Blavity's.____I am so proud of how far Black people have come in the entertainment industry. We went from barely being represented in TV, film and media, to our culture now inspiring the entertainment industry at large.My experience as a Black artist has still been discouraging at times. I sometimes feel like I can’t do certain things without them being seen as intimidating, angry or negative. But, most of all, it is empowering to continue to succeed in an industry that doesn’t always want to see me succeed. Being a Black artist has its own set of advantages and...

If you’re interested in sharing your opinion on any cultural, political or personal topic, create an account here and check out our how-to post to learn more.Opinions are the writer’s own and not those of Blavity's.____In second grade, I was given a class assignment to write about what we wanted to be when we grew up. My classmates wrote things like astronaut, police officer and doctor. I wrote that I wanted to be on stage and perform.How did I know this would happen years later? I was a shy kid, born and raised on a reservation, and I grew up not within but near the largest city on the Navajo Nation, which some may consider a small town. My parents gifted me my first electric guitar on my 11th birthday after years of playing on a plastic one. Every day after school I’d come home, do homework and spend hours in my room practicing and finding the right distortion effect for my guitar by stomping on my FX pedal. I wanted to be a lead guitarist for a thrash metal band. I also started to sing.Growling and yelling my guts out in my room, I can’t imagine what the neighbors thought was going on in our house. It hurt my throat, but I felt accomplished with what I had taught myself so far. I listened to metal music religiously. A few years later, I finally picked up the clean singing and started to go to karaoke with my mom. One of those nights, a country band member noticed and asked me to sing at one of their shows. I brought my guitar out there with me, pretending I knew what a C chord was, watching for the changes in their hands. I wasn’t even plugged into an amplifier.Meanwhile, at school, I signed up for my first guitar class ever, only to be sent out within the first few minutes because I showed the teacher my favorite metal riff. It was the first music-related course I’d ever seen or heard of at my school. I continued in the country band and a few others, finally gaining that stage experience I predicted in the second grade.It wouldn't be until my senior year in high school that I would see a music-related program called the Native American Composer’s Apprenticeship Project (NACAP). I joined in a heartbeat, eager to create. I already had about three original songs under my belt ready to be released on an album. I sat down with the instructor, played a few riffs, then he broke out the staff paper. My brain didn’t know anything about “the staff.” How do I approach it? What do the dots and lines mean? The intimidation set in and immediately dispersed all over my self-taught theories. But NACAP didn’t expect me to know these things right off the bat and gave me extreme encouragement to write what I knew and felt.I felt so small. A half Navajo and half Apache girl writing “fancy” music for a quartet — something I had never dreamed of or even crossed my mind. My music education came from the local music scene, mentors who had the patience to sit and play guitar with me, singing with my mother and practicing in my room until I fell asleep with my guitar on my lap. I grew out of my old mindset of “maybe I can do it” to “I can do it, and I’m going to do my best.” A whole new world opened to me and I didn’t feel so small anymore.After attending school in the same small town from preschool to community college, I set a goal to pursue a degree in music education. NACAP had a great deal of influence on my career choice. When signing up to audition at the Northern Arizona University School of Music, there were fields like “high school choir director,” “music teacher'' and “where did I have my voice lessons?” These were fields I could not fill out. I spent the few months prior to audition day working on my best impression of an opera singer. I had no technique, but I had a good ear. Alas, I had been taken under the wing of my very first vocal instructor who appreciated my background in metal and supported my singer-songwriter career. She defined me as her “special” student, being the self-taught music major scary metal singer. I had struggled to adjust to college life — driving back and forth from home to school, which was a four-hour round-trip. It sounds brutally draining to do this every day, but it is also dedication. Through these struggles, a kind family let me stay on their couch throughout the semester and my voice instructor also provided a room for me to stay in once a week. Out of the goodness of their hearts, it was the most encouragement for my education, next to the support from my family.If music had been offered more during my secondary education, if there had been a permanent music program for all genres available in my small town, and several other towns like it on the Navajo Nation, maybe I would’ve been more prepared and confident? I may not have been the self-taught music BA and maybe I wouldn’t be one of the two Navajo students in the music program at my university? Maybe there would be more Navajo students?But I can’t dwell on the past. I wouldn’t be the musician I am today if I had not had my experiences. There are many students like me, working hard on their craft with a lack of resources on the reservation, determined and delving into the next unknown chapter (probably unprepared like me). Although being self-taught is an amazing skill and an admirable feat, continuing education in this way is not what I want for future generations. No matter where you’re from — especially in underserved areas like mine — everyone deserves access to music education programs.____Sage Bond is a singer and heavy metal artist who is affiliated with one of The Lewis Prize for Music's awardee organizations, Grand Canyon Music...

If you’re interested in sharing your opinion on any cultural, political or personal topic, create an account here and check out our how-to post to learn more.Opinions are the writer’s own and not those of Blavity's.____For those keeping up with current trends, NFTs (or “Non-Fungible Tokens”) have become a ubiquitous part of daily life. The (cryptocurrency) ethereum blockchain (think bitcoin) supports NFTs, which store extra information such as content and metadata. A completed transaction added to the ethereum blockchain is permanent and verifiable, and cannot be altered.NFTs are, in essence, digital collector’s items. By virtue of being built on the same blockchain technology as cryptocurrencies like bitcoin, they act as a certificate of authenticity for whatever non-tangible item is being sold or traded, giving the buyer proof of ownership that can be verified and traced through the NFTs blockchain ledger.Artists, entertainers and pop culture celebrities are looking to capitalize on this digital phenomenon by selling unique digital items to add to their revenue streams. New NFT inventory is announced daily, and transactions for staggering sums of money are becoming a common occurrence. NFTs have risen from humble beginnings as the format gained in popularity. In October of 2020, Jim Jones became one of the first rappers to sell an NFT — a digital version of one of his chains (jewelry, not block!) sold for $4,500. Since then, artists like Soulja Boy and Snoop Dogg have gotten in on the trend, with sales that are increasing in value, and many other household names in rap are not far behind.After a challenging year for the music industry, with artists unable to generate income through live performances, it comes as no surprise that the NFT boom has emerged as an appealing way to generate revenue. But despite the cutting-edge technology behind NFTs, even the biggest names in music will find that they can’t evade traditional music copyright rules to enter the market. The bottom line is that when it comes to the sale of songs or albums, copyrights still apply. Where it gets a bit muddy is that NFT creators can keep certain copyrights while selling ownership rights. These ambiguities could lead to litigation.Let’s focus on music for a second and how copyright laws can apply to NFTs. It is typical for artists to transfer partial ownership of their music rights to the parties who help them create and publish their music, whether that be their labels, producers or others. For this reason, should those artists or any other rightsholder look to sell an NFT comprised of a song or songs, they would need the explicit permission of any such parties with shared rights (licensing, mechanical, performance, sync, etc.) in order for the sale to be legally valid.In one such example of the murky waters surrounding NFTs and copyrights, it was recently reported that Damon Dash planned to auction off an NFT of Jay-Z’s first album, Reasonable Doubt, on the cryptocurrency platform SuperFarm. (Damon is one of the co-founders of Roc-A-Fella Records, alongside Jay-Z.) Roc-A-Fella swiftly halted the sale by filing a lawsuit in New York’s Southern District Court, arguing that the rights to Reasonable Doubt belong to the label, not Dash, and that Dash “can’t sell what he doesn’t own.” Dash has since responded that he was planning to sell only his one-third share of the album, by way of his one-third ownership of the record label, but Roc-A-Fella maintains that Dash has no legal right to do so, and a letter from Roc-A-Fella’s lawyers helped ensure cancellation of the auction for the time being.Jay-Z himself is no stranger to NFTs. He and other members of Roc-Nation are investors in the NFT platform Bitski, which raised nearly $20 million in capital during a series A funding round. With such significant celebrity involvement, there is no question that there is big interest — and potentially big earnings — in the NFT market. For those with the added bonus of an already established fan base, NFTs represent a major, lucrative opportunity. It just has to be done right or else the big guns will hire the big lawyers to sue.Issues surrounding music rights have been and will continue to be a growing topic of importance in the industry. Major artists have been announcing sales (even partial sales) of their catalogs to investors, a similar type of transaction that involves a precise understanding of what music rights entail. In May of 2021, for example, The Red Hot Chili Peppers sold their music publishing rights, in a deal reportedly worth $140 to 150 million, to British investment firm Hipgnosis. Leading up to and during a transaction like this, the artists have advocates, such as lawyers and publishing companies, who can advise on what type of returns particular rights might yield (in the way of royalties), what a fair market value (FMV) is for a catalog (accounting for multiples based on future earnings) and what artists can still keep even if they sell their publishing rights.Advisors, and advocates for protection, must evolve as digital transactions evolve. If musicians create NFTs that include the various multiple rights that accompany music properties, then publishing companies, traditional advocates for music creators, will need to quickly get up to speed on what information is stored in an exchange, indicating what is sold and what is retained.The same evolution is necessary for the new breed of collector who will be purchasing music NFTs. Buyers should carefully read the terms and conditions of any sale and, even then, should be cautious. Just because an artist wishes to sell their work as an NFT does not mean that the artist is clear on whether they have the legal right to do so. Even the legitimate purchase of an NFT will not automatically transfer copyright ownership — though in some circumstances, it could. Another factor to consider when contemplating a purchase is that different cryptocurrency platforms will treat NFT resale royalties differently, and these conditions are still evolving.While the growing trend of NFTs in music can create tremendous opportunities for artists, and excitement for buyers, all must be cautious about potentially convoluted copyright issues that could emerge.____Corey Martin is Managing Partner and Chairman of the Entertainment Finance Department at Granderson Des Rochers LLP (“GDR”), an entertainment and media focused law firm with offices in Beverly Hills, California, and New York, New...

If you’re interested in sharing your opinion on any cultural, political or personal topic, create an account here and check out our how-to post to learn more.Opinions are the writer’s own and not those of Blavity's.____When one of my brothers and I go to a movie theater, we always skip at least one seat between us. When we get a table at a restaurant, we naturally sit diagonally from each other – on opposite sides and on opposite corners of the table. It’s not something that we verbalize or acknowledge, but more of an innate pattern we've adopted at some point in our childhoods so that we don’t look weird or feel awkward.On the other hand, if I see a movie with one of my sisters, they’re all up on me — squeezing my arm for emotional support every time something intense happens. When we get a table at a restaurant, my sister is practically sitting in my lap and literally eating off my plate.Those moments of vulnerability and intimacy aren’t shared between my brothers and me. We don't show each other affection, although we know we love each other and have each other’s backs. The difference is: we never really express it. We’ve learned to keep our relationship and our interactions easy, and stoic; masculine and always hetero.My brothers and I are a lot like our father, who is like his father. Being like my father impacted my life positively in many ways, but inheriting my father’s reluctance to show vulnerability — that part of me became limiting.Reflecting on my music career, I remember how excited I was to sign my first songwriting deal with a major publishing company, but also how daunting it was to be hired to write love songs because I was still discovering my sexuality and learning how to navigate the fact that I’m gay.When I write love songs, I'm writing from the revolutionary perspective of a Black man loving another Black man. At the time, I didn't feel the world was ready to embrace that kind of love, so my career became writing songs for powerful women, such as Jennifer Lopez, Brandy, Mya, Jhené Aiko and Deborah Cox, who could perform my songs in a way the world was accepting of and accustomed to. Being in this Black male body, I was aware of the constructs that it entailed. I thought I had to act a certain way to be successful or considered good enough. I was under the impression that if I was going to be taken seriously in the entertainment industry, I needed to come off as strong and invincible. I had succumbed to the view of Black masculinity that is the product of a long history of racism and oppression. It seemed America only embraced a view of Black men as aggressive, hyper-sexual, misogynistic and homophobic — certainly not vulnerable. At the time, the only places that it seemed safe for Black men to show emotion or any type of vulnerability were either in sports or in church.I had never really witnessed a Black man that was powerful, respected and accomplished, yet vulnerable and tender; not until I had the opportunity to create with Michael Jackson. Through the absolute perfect alignment of the planets, I wrote a song called “Heaven Can Wait” that Michael wanted to record. That song also moved him to want to meet me, because while listening to the lyrics of the song with his team he said, “I feel like he understands me.” Being around Michael Jackson was a master class of vulnerability. He always seemed to put the way people felt above everything else, so feelings were always addressed and expressed around him. This made the creative environment productive, rewarding and “magical,” as Michael would say. I now realize that the feeling of collaboration and intimacy that music creation requires is also a necessary resource in photography — a hobby that would ultimately become my career.Navigating the music industry, I always believed I had to separate what I felt in my heart from what I presented to the world. I assumed they were siloed. This notion was dismantled when I took a trip to South America and began photographing men that were much more emotive and secure with their sexualities than Black American men, and those images became the catalysts that launched my career shift.This development prompted me to start working with my subjects in a way that would inspire vulnerability from them. This wasn’t necessarily a simple feat, as many of my subjects are NFL and NBA players, rappers, boxers, executives — powerful Black men that the world often deems emotionally unavailable. I learned to offer a part of myself in exchange for asking for something personal from them. In that space when they discover common aspects of our experiences, that’s when a knowing happens in their eyes where I’m able to capture that moment where they feel seen. They seem both inviting and real; relatable and surprisingly vulnerable.These men and the resulting photographs have helped me in my reframing of what I consider masculine and beautiful. The idea of expanding the construct of Black masculinity isn’t new. For me, it’s about extending the conversation through my work and intention, and annexing my sensibility to the possibilities of how Black men are seen.There is an unequivocal bond that exists between Black men; an ineffable cognizance of solidarity and brotherhood. What I’ve discovered in photographing Black men as it relates to intimacy and progress is, if you ask them about their feelings in a way in which they feel safe and free of judgment, and if you *really listen, they will tell you how they feel. And it is my passionate aspiration and intention that when you gaze upon my photographs, you will see how they feel.I view my photography as an extension of this conversation. If any of the work that I do contributes to the expansion of empathy relating to Black men, masculinity and the non-sexual intimacy we crave and require, that’s the holy grail.My photography is a reconciliation. It has exposed and liberated me. It requires me to embrace and express feelings of joy and darkness in pursuit of strength and beauty. I now present my photographs the same way I present my music: soulful loves songs about Black men, by a Black man.____Teron Beal is a professional photographer and accomplished...

Written by Matt Stahl, Western University and Olufunmilayo Arewa, Temple University____In the summer of 2020, Black Lives Matter (BLM) protests and activism included voices arguing for economic justice in the recording industry. The Black Music Action Coalition (BMAC) demanded music industry executives account for “inequities in the treatment of Black artists.”BLM and the BMAC spotlighted what cultural anthropologist Maureen Mahon calls the recording industry’s “racialized political economy.” Mahon writes that Black performers “occupy a subordinate position,” even as their music serves as a “central creative resource” in the industry and the culture.Since the early 20th century at least, the recording industry in the United States routinely underpaid African American artists.It’s long been suspected by performers, their families, music fans, scholars and critics that negligent and even fraudulent accounting practices denied African American artists and their families opportunities to accumulate wealth and enter the American middle class — our research shows how those practices worked.We — a communication professor and a law professor — have been studying racialized contracting and accounting in the recording industries since 2015. We have presented our findings at academic conferences, in academic journals and a forthcoming book.We have discovered archival evidence — preserved by activists, lawyers and labour organizations — that demonstrates in detail how some of these systems produced tragic outcomes for many...

If you’re interested in sharing your opinion on any cultural, political or personal topic, create an account here and check out our how-to post to learn more.Opinions are the writer’s own and not those of Blavity's.____I'm a kindergarten teacher and I would show little Black boys the new music video for Lil’ Nas X and his single “Montero (Call Me By Your Name).”Got ya’, didn’t I? No, of course I would not show the video to them. I would not show it to anyone who is not an adult. Ever. But, I also would not be upset if they saw it somewhere else. Why? Because in the mix, somewhere, there is a little Black gay boy, like the one I used to be, looking for someone like him — having fun, flipping the imagery placed onto us in the name of bigotry on its neck, and embracing the beauty instead.Be very clear, Lil’ Nas X (birth name, Montero Lamar Hill) is beautiful. His deep Black hue jumps off any screen into anybody’s lap (no pun intended for anyone who has already seen the video), illuminated further by his deep brown eyes and his infectious smile with teeth that should earn his dentist a Nobel Prize. It is his inner beauty and authenticity as a mainstream gay rapper, in an industry drowning in homoantagonism, hypermasculinity and misogyny, that makes him amazing to watch. Actually, contrary to popular belief, young Black boys may need to watch his new video causing all of this controversy.Is it at all off-putting that just a few months ago he released a children’s book and called children his “core audience at the moment,” and has then somehow “degenerated” to the imagery in “Montero (Call Me By Your Name)”? Absolutely not. First, he is a grown man, as some people seem to forget, and he has created material for adults this go-round. Yay. Second, in my eyes, everything he does is interrelated; he is reaching out to different genres and ages of people in different ways and is changing the world in a positive way in doing so.This music video is just days old and has already received backlash from conservatives for his sexual and religious charged “demonic” imagery, especially for young viewers that look up to Lil’ Nas X. We must remove the idea that sexuality is something to hide from our children. Studies show that by talking to kids about sex, they are far less likely to engage in risky sexual behaviors. However, this goes further than sex and sexuality.We must also remove the only images they see under the guise of “respectability” coming forth in images of public figures like Barack Obama, or Dr. King, or a Black Bill Gates in the making. Not that there is anything inherently wrong with these ways of being. Still, we must stop creating this monolith of respectability. Someone like Lil’ Nas X publically embracing himself, his sexuality, his body (autonomy) and his ability to challenge people by being out in his life, career and artistry is the most respectable thing a Black (gay) man can do right now in a society that is seemingly intent on destroying us all.If the concern is about Black gay men and how over-sexualized we are in the media, get over that. We have sex, period. It's nice to see our sexuality mainstream. Now, if the concern is that our children are becoming sexualized, as an educator, I will reiterate that these issues arise when the adults in the room are not paying attention. Putting on my teacher’s hat again, I have come to understand that when chaos happens in my classroom, 90% of the time it is due to my being preoccupied elsewhere, or just being flat out unprepared.Lil’ Nas X is not a parent. He is not an educator. As adults who are, we can embrace the images in the world and use them to facilitate conversations of growth, to help kids develop positive identity development, to help them cultivate sovereignty of the body — herby preventing dysmorphic thoughts, confusion or misinformation — and to simply connect with kids using pop culture.Furthermore, if the concern is the religious images that Lil’ Nas X utilized in his video, remember that he is not the first, and he will not be last. Let us all be very clear of where the images equating sexual deviance and damnation to hell came from. It came from those self-supposed religious leaders who have made it their mission to create physical, emotional, social and/or mental health roadblocks for LGBTQ+ people for centuries. For Lil’ Nas X to use those images to his advantage, either to troll those images or to express himself freely, I say more power to him. Best believe there is some young Black boy who is watching this, much to the chagrin of adults everywhere, and is prouder and more in love with himself. Hallelujah.Montero has chosen this particular version of self-love. If it is not something you ascribe to, that is OK, to some extent. What can make those views a problem is that when they appear, disrespect, false notions of being holier than thou and flat-out reaching rhetoric more often than not comes along with it. Lil’ Nas X is not asking little Black boys to dance on the laps of the Devil (as fun as that sounds). What he has done with his video and its unapologetic raunchiness far from negates but, in fact, makes vividly clear the positive impact on what it means to be in the expression of sexual and gender-based fluidity. Is his imagery the only way to achieve that? No. Nevertheless, it is indeed a way. A good one.He is indeed pushing an agenda, for all Black and gay boys past, present and future, to show that we are here, we are sexy, we get nasty and we laugh in the face of the Devil (both literally and figuratively). He is not destroying or corrupting children. People rejecting, beating and/or killing young, gay people are. (#RIPNigelShelby) This ongoing pandemic, in which LGBTQ+ youth are forcibly entrapped into living with homo and/or femme-antagonistic parents, is.Let us all try and use this as a positive moment to not disregard or disparage Lil’ Nas X. I, a teacher of the young and the most innocent among us, hope parents and other adults will see this video and be willing to connect with their children, help them understand what is going on, help them understand why this is important and celebrate...