From DMX to Daunte Wright, The Culture Continues to Grieve.
It’s 1999 and I’m riding shotgun through the mean streets of Birmingham, Alabama in my cousin’s 1994 Navy Blue Nissan Sentra. The tunes pumping thru his 6×9 speakers were unique. Edgy. Raw. The man’s voice sounded like he dined on street gravel for breakfast and drank liquid cement to wash it down, only to have it harden in his esophagus. I turned to my big cuz, finger aimed at the JVC detachable faceplate radio with the digital dash: “Who is this guy? He sounds upset.”
He erupts with laughter. “That’s just DMX…” he pauses.
“…and that’s his real voice.”
Now picture riding shotgun in the aforementioned Nissan Sentra still riding to X. Suddenly, flashing lights poke through the rear windshield in fireworks fashion.
That’s how Daunte Wright’s situation started…and his real voice is also no longer here.
Earl “DMX” Simmons was authentic. Relentless. Gritty. His Yonkers-based bars laid on tracks were indicative of his environment. You felt like he was on 100 all the time, 24/7. X’s energy was infectious because he didn’t just wear his emotions on his sleeve. He tattooed those feelings onto his forearms as permanent residents so it could trespass thru his fingertips. Hence, his ink pen became a proxy to capture his internal pain.
X’s early 2000’s aura somehow floated ALL THE WAY down south to Alabama. That’s really anointed reach. Alabamians knew of and listened to Pac, BIG, Nas and Jay-Z but the man referred to as “Dark Man X” was the first east coast rapper that had elementary kids screaming to “Stop! Drop! Shut ’em down, open up shop!” during nap time but embedded deep into prayer before snack sessions.
As I reflect on his death, DMX probably would’ve been Jesus’ OG disciples during biblical days. Shaking down the Pharisees near the temples, serving the kids on the corner and shedding tears in the Garden of Gethsemane. X was a tantalizing mix of extreme brashness, beautiful honesty infused with a Christian-based purpose where he would give his money away to homeless people and save churches from foreclosure. He even held a full-scale bible study and revival on IG live.
DMX was a shining star that was unearthed from the depths of Yonkers darkness. How many of the hood’s finest would do this? While he struggled with various issues and addictions, DMX had a heart of gold. The reactions to his death from those close to him affirm that. He was a broken man built from the Yonker’s mud composed of neglect, abuse and crime.
DMX’s upbringing is unfortunately a story told too many times of black men in urban communities. Over-policing marginalized minorities for drugs and traffic stops but under-policing their neighborhoods to maintain safety and order has long been the chess move. It’s clear that Daunte Wright’s murder shows America still values centuries of racial oppression over economic prosperity rooted in equality.
Mr. Wright was only a 20-year-old father who should still be breathing today. He thought he was being pulled over for an air freshener. However, Daunte’s family unfortunately has to make arrangements for his funeral and fight for his justice in the same state where George Floyd’s murder trial ensues. Make things worse, Daunte was murdered by a 26-year veteran cop Kim Potter, who “mistakenly” pulled out her gun vs. taser and “accidentally” shot Mr. Wright.
Wait…a mistake? Straps and tasers got the same energy?
How many other times has she mistaken a glock for a stun gun?
I’m further convinced America is challenging the culture’s intellectual aptitude. The breeze from the mayo-colored capes flapping in the wind sounds all too familiar:
“He had warrants out for his arrest. He shouldn’t have tried to run”. Excuse after excuse. Rationalization after rationalization. Justification after justification. Cries for compliance. Blah blah blah blah.
He was legit afraid for his life and none of the reasons justify law enforcement murdering him in the streets, yielding another fatherless black boy to be raised by his community. Adding insult to injury, Kim Potter and Brooklyn Center Police Chief Tim Gannon were allowed to “resign immediately” versus fired like the cops who pulled over Army Lt. Caron Nazario without cause. Thank God for Mr. Nazario’s military uniform. It very well saved him from being sprayed with bullets versus just pepper. A sad and sobering reality that either scenario is even in play.
On Netflix’s special “13th”, the documentary outlines how the American police’s original job description entailed capturing runaway slaves. Fast forward, that bloodline of bigotry seeps from the blue shield’s cracks as they look to maintain slavery’s status quo. The hashtags, pics and videos are exhausting and unfortunate.
The struggles and strife born from the spawn of slavery stacked the deck against people who look just like DMX and Daunte. Both deaths are by-products of this detrimental Jenga game the culture competes in daily where legislative blocks tip over to create chaos in the form of redlining, drug epidemics, disenfranchisement and police brutality. The depths of darkness embedded within America’s DNA continues to shine in modern-day society. The worst is when it comes from the people swore into positions of power. The ones who are to protect and serve. So much for feeling safe on your own turf.
Rest In Peace DMX & Daunte. You will both be missed and never forgotten.
Originally published at https://www.writingontheball.com on April 16, 2021.
