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  Monday December 22nd, 2014    

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Raise the bar, rappers (12/06/2009)
By Cynthya Porter


     
Dear T-Pain, Lilí Wayne, Akon and any of you other rappers stuck in this lyric rut,

Please stop singing about strippers already.

Seriously.

Iím not a prude and I donít care what kind of places you frequent in your free time, but I am the mother of two teenage girls who like your music and frankly Iím about to kick you out of my house.

I donít have anything against strippers, per se, but letís face it, we donít need a generation of girls growing up with the glorified belief that being a stripper is as sexy as, oh I donít know, being a scientist or something.

Itís hard to be a parent these days. The world is bombarding my girls with messages that Iím increasingly unable to filter out. They leave the house and turn the radio on and there you are, rapping about some stripper taking your money and being super awesome.

And itís not just one of you, itís all of you for some bizarre reason. You canít swing a stick, or, er, a pole, at a music chart right now and not hit a song that talks about strippers, so what gives?

Iím doing my best to see that my daughters grow up to be strong, successful and self-sufficient, but some days they like you more than me, so Iíd appreciate a little help.

Think about it, wouldnít it be awesome to think that pretty girl youíre singing about drove up in an Escalade because sheís a bank president? Iíd put headphones filled with your music on my girls while they were sleeping if that was the case.

But right now Iím avoiding you. Iím telling my daughters you are kind of dumb to make stripping sound so glamorous when the fact is itís a pretty hard life. Iím telling them you donít look for enough in a woman and that they can do better.

Why do we have to work against each other this way? I used to even think some of your stuff was not too terrible, fun to dance around the kitchen to even.

But now your lyrics are setting a bar for my girls so low they could shuffle over it, a bar that looks frighteningly like a stripper pole, and I canít let you do it.

You know how much the kids love you. Think about the message youríre sending out. Think about if it was your daughter. After all, we both want the same proud successful girls out in the world donít we? Donít we?

We need to work together to create a new sexy, guys, one that celebrates the amazing things my girls could do someday that donít include a pole. Tell them youíll still like them if they are super smart. Tell them your dream girl has a doctoral degree. Tell girls that they are worth far more than the shape of their body and how many clothes they will peel off.

Tell them or I will. Actually, Iíll be telling them anyway, but Iíd respect you a lot more if you did the same. And Iíd let you back in the house, except for while my girls are studying, that is, because we donít have music on during homework time even if you like pretty bank presidents in Escalades.

 

 

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