Allow me to introduce...

You already know how PTM will give you both sides of the story, two sides of the argument, and always an educational cool view on this thing called Hip-Hop. To add to the PTM flavor I reached out to a writer, who's view I respect and enjoy. She can chill with the ladies, but still rock with the fellas. Lets welcome her to the block...

Desire.

Libraries overwhelm me. Apprehension takes over my body. Combative chills. How can an avid reader be totally overwhelmed by a library? I want to read each and every book that stands on each shelf, and the acceptance of the impossible, kills. Sunday best, lying on the couch I started to remember all the times I visited a library. And there was one occasion, one visual, which sat on my shoulder softly as longing set in.

It was a grey Boston Public Library card. I walked into the Dudley Branch with one intention. And maybe I checked out a book. But I used the computer. Logged onto Ohhla.com and printed Foxy Brown ft Jay-z’s “I’ll Be” lyrics.

The first concert I ever attended was a Ruff Ryders / Cash Money concert at the Fleet Center. Possibly entirely inappropriate for a 6th or 7th grade student. But a 4.0 and a love that began with my first knowledge of Mixtapes took me farther than I could imagine. A bit too hard, they’d say. Let her play with the guys.

2008. The radio comes on and it’s Jay-z’s “Blue Magic”. I rhythmically went along on the lyrical ride with Mr. Carter. It was subtle. “You still listen to that crap?” my father asks. I made an attempt to let out a whim of laughter. But something in me was pained to know that even my dad knew that I left my love for Hip Hop somewhere behind with everything else I deem “irrepressible.”

Somewhere between Rock, Country, R&B, Dance and music library lie Hip-Hop tracks that will forever be instilled in the meld of who I am. It’s like avoiding bills in the mail like they’ll go away. They’re not going anywhere. Hip-Hop’s not going anywhere. I grew into a young woman with her own lease, job, education and friends. And I realized I started to think less of Hip-Hop without acknowledging the fact that both of us changed. And I want to get Hip-Hop back to that place where I’m drowning in an ocean of coolness. I need it. You need it. Hip-Hop needs us. Fuck, bitch, ho, can be reiterated over and over. But it’s only a negative when you can’t identify with the use of terms. We’re still here. We’re still the best. And I thank PTM for the opportunity to go back in time with the first to blow my mind.

By the way, the name is Elle. Nice to meet you.