Jigga What, Jigga Who?

I was in my car yesterday, minding my own business, windows rolled down, enjoying NYC in the spring, groovin' to the radio when I stopped at the longest red light in the world and saw a bunch of high school kids waiting for the bus.

Still minding my own B-I- business, a Jay-Z song came on the radio, so I turned the radio up a bit louder. All of a sudden, I hear these kids start hysterically laughing, so I looked over, and I hear one kid yell:

LOOK AT THE WHITE LADY LISTENING TO JAY-Z!!

I turned to the window and busted out laughing; let's just say that my nerdy appearance and demeanor (5 ft tall, glasses, freckles), complete with sensible automobile give off more of a easy-listening vibe.

When I was in graduate school, I worked at detention center for adolescents where my clients were mostly African American and Latino boys between 15 and 18 years old. They were shocked that I knew all of their favorite rappers and incorporated some of the songs into my counseling and group sessions. In truth, I would use music to allow these guys to express their feelings; and in doing so I was able to open their minds to other forms of music that they wouldn't have otherwise been exposed to in their situations. (Except country music. Never country music. Country music is bad, mkay?)