Watching Peabody Award-winning director dream hampton’s new documentary film "It Was All A Dream" brought me straight back to my life in the early 1990s. During that time, neighborhoods like east Baltimore where I was raised were dealing with the effects of the crack epidemic. Young men and fathers were being snatched from their homes and put into overflowing prisons. For many, what was left were hardworking mothers and grandmothers – powerful matriarchs who traded everything they had for our survival.
Those women deserve credit for our existence. Fathers, uncles and big brothers were present in some households, but they felt scarce as many were denied opportunity, and then sucked up the underground economies, which often has only two destinations: the cemetery or the penitentiary. My dad struggled with addiction during my adolescent years, and I've also had multiple family members killed. I had to learn to shoot a jump shot on my own, gain an understanding of chivalry and dating etiquette on my own, and figure out those soft skills needed to gain employment on my own. And while a host of different community members chipped in to ultimately help me understand these things, I'd be remiss to not acknowledge hip-hop as being my biggest teacher.
