108. Lauryn Hill

I really love it when other people put into words the things I find difficult to express.

Jamilah Lemieux writing for Clutch Magazine:

Only recently did I realize something: we may have crushed this woman with the weight of our expectations. Lauryn was in her early 20′s when she became the biggest name in Pop music . . . for making songs talking about Black girl pain, and hood life, and struggle. That was a BIG deal. While I won’t engage all the foolishness of the rumor mill, she and Wyclef have both confirmed that they had a relationship outside of his marriage. She had a child with the son of one of the most famous musicians to ever live. Lauryn had a full and complicated life of her own, coupled with the weight of our expectations on her back. How many of us could balance all of that? At 25? Ever?

Yup, that's right. Lauryn Hill.

Jamilah's piece pretty much rocks (and took me back, go check it out for yourself). It's right on time for Ms. Hill's re-entry and for the generation that cut its hip hop baby teeth on mid-90s masterpieces like The Score. Yup, that'd be me right there, laying on my trundle bed, feet kicked up on the bookshelf, listening to "Nothing Even Matters" on repeat and letting Lauryn take me out of that dark and dangerous place so familiar to black girls in tumultuous relationships (who are really just adult women in miniature trying to figure out where first love and happily-ever-after intersect).

Unlike Jamilah and among my friends, I was the lonely supporter who rocked with Unplugged. The poetry of her lyrics, the deep and resounding struggle of a woman artist trying to make art happen and push boundaries while loving her child and herself resonated with me. Art isn't easy to create much less present to the world. And being a young woman writing lyrics so real they hurt, telling stories that flipped the we-fuck-hoes glorification within hip hop on its head with sincerity & authenticity but without demonizing the genre ain't easy either. Add in a toxic culture of celebrity and I worried Unplugged might be the last time we heard from her, especially given the backlash.

I'm glad she's back. I'm excited and I have so many questions. Will she speak to us, the generation that loved her so much that we couldn't process her pain? Will she speak to our daughters? Our sons? After all, I'm not that kid anymore.

Or maybe, seeing as we all grew up together--black girls, hip hop and Lauryn Hill--maybe it will be less complicated than that. And more like a high school reunion.