The summer before my senior year of high school, I wanted my tastes to reflect my perceived maturity. Like every other teen, I spent my teenage years searching for the pieces of my personality. They coexisted alongside alternative rock, rap and even indie tracks as my taste matured with my teenage years. These musicians and many others maintained a sacred spot in my music catalogue. I even spent many a night pretending to be Donna Summer belting “Hot Stuff” like a diva in my bedroom. As a writer, I resonated deeply with the poetic descriptiveness of Stevie Wonder’s soul anthems. I learned to be a hopeless romantic from the dreamy funk music of Earth, Wind, and Fire.
My song choices provided me with a beautiful soundtrack for the different moments of my life. Through the smoothness of the instrumental arrangements and lyrics, these records turned me into an old soul with a deep appreciation for the sounds of the past at a young age.Īs I grew up, I was able to forge my own musical tastes based upon the wide musical knowledge gifted to me by my grandparents. As a little girl, I was delighted by listening to all of the flavors of the different genres that were crafted from the rambunctious energy of the post-Vietnam war nation. They were so nostalgic about the beautifully diverse music that they enjoyed in their youth, providing much of my introduction to the artists that I still love to this day. I grew up on the Black music of the 1970s and 1980s in my grandparents’ house. What do you do when you discover the art that has inspired you most is rooted in harm?
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