Take it to the Hole, and Listen to J Cole

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Between the ages of 8 and 14, my friends and I had two main goals in life:

1. Make the NBA

2. Become a rapper

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Once we realized that most of us wouldn’t grow past 5’10, the NBA dream sort of flew out the window.  However, we all had equally functioning vocal chords, so the rap dream was alive and well.  How does one best begin their journey of becoming a rapper?  Model their every move.

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We idolized these guys.  Whatever they did, we did.  

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How they dressed, how they talked, what they ate, what they watched… You name it, we did it.  

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I have vivid memories (and unfortunately video evidence) of crowding around my friend’s desktop computer (he wasn’t allowed to have a TV in his room) watching Eminem’s 8 Mile, and then trying to replicate the rap battles amongst ourselves.  

 

We were not very good at it.

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My freestyle abilities aside, I have a point in saying all of this.  Anything and everything that rappers did was automatically considered cool, among my peer group and beyond.  

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Jay-Z could have released a collab with My Little Pony and every boy in my 7th grade class would have been convinced that an animated horse named “Twilight Sparkle” was the pinnacle of manliness.

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Anything and everything they did, we followed… with one glaring exception.

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We are all still afraid to discuss mental health, and talk about our feelings.  Why is THIS the one thing that fell through the cracks?

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Men account for just under 50% of the US population, but just under 30% of the percentage of Americans in therapy.  This is not due to a lack of struggle - it is estimated that 14% of US men, around 22.5 million people, experience some sort of mental health issue.  Only 60% of depressed men seek help, compared to 72% for their counterparts, and 16% of women use prescription medication to improve their mental health, while just 9% of men do the same.​

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Men die as a result of suicide 3.5 times more frequently than women.

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Since I started listening at around 11 or 12, rap music has been the single place in my life where it has been socially acceptable for men, for me, to talk about things like depression or anxiety, as well as simple issues that all men have like relationship problems or pressure from peers to look and act in certain ways.  We don’t really get it in TV, we don’t really get it in movies, and if you have more than one or two friends in your life that you feel comfortable discussing this with, you should consider yourself incredibly lucky.

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So this begs the question: How did the entire burden of men’s mental health fall on the rap industry, and why is it “OK” there, but taboo anywhere and everywhere else?

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Why was my only outlet headphones and a basketball?

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Why is it that all I felt that I could do was take it to the hole and listen to J Cole?