How the Nationals ballpark helped change Washington, D.C., from ‘Chocolate City’ Gentrification has brought change, not just to my neighborhood but to the entire city

Chocolate City,” referring to Washington, D.C.’s nearly 70 percent black population in the latter part of the 20th century, has been transformed in front of my very eyes. Fewer black folks in the city today is truly ironic, partly because this detraction is due to the sport that is known typically for lacking enough chocolate.

Southwest Washington, D.C., isn’t the same, and the city hasn’t been, either, for more than a decade.

In 2005, the former Washington Senators of Major League Baseball returned home as the Nationals after a stint as the Montreal Expos. This meant our youths finally had a different set of role models to look up to — not ballers, but ballplayers. Being an impressionable 10-year-old, singing first exposed me to professional baseball in D.C. when I sang the national anthem at a Nats exhibition game with the D.C. Boys Choir.

We were a handful of black boys from all across D.C. who came together in song for a few priceless moments in a world unknown to us. Performing at an MLB game definitely instilled in us a sense of culture shock and possibilities that afternoon at Robert F. Kennedy Stadium in Northeast D.C.

After the Nats’ first season at RFK, city officials revealed they were eyeing major changes to the baseball environment that ultimately affected much of D.C. In May 2006, they began constructing a new baseball stadium on South Capitol Street in D.C., just 250 feet from my boyhood home in Southwest.

Gleaming new buildings along M street, on September, 18, 2014 in Washington, DC.

Bill O'Leary/The Washington Post via Getty Images

One year earlier, I was enthralled by the national treasure I had missed out on as a kid from the city while feeling the contagious energy of the Nats’ home crowd. With a stadium in the works, I wasn’t necessarily prepared to feel that same thunderous applause, fireworks and ruckus. My family has experienced this intense fandom come alive each night the Nats play through the walls of our townhome on Carrollsburg Place Southwest — walls that feel way too thin on game days.

Our house is located right off South Capitol Street, which separates the southern quadrants of the city into Southeast and Southwest, and the team built its stadium at 1500 South Capitol St. S.E. It’s in a different quadrant, but it’s just one block over from my alley.

The stadium definitely has its bright spots, such as festive outings in The Bullpen and occasional live concerts, and D.C. is now officially making a name for itself as a sports town, which makes our fans proud to claim John Wall, Bryce Harper and Alexander Ovechkin. But with all the good that can come from having a stadium or two in the neighborhood, there are even greater consequences that have affected my family for over a decade. Not only are we witnesses to the removal of black people from Southwest, but the entire neighborhood feels this industrialization and the gentrification that came along with it.

Todd Grosshan bought a rowhouse near the stadium when it was being built, and both sets of his neighbors were uprooted. “We had neighbors on either side of us; they’re gone,” he said. “But they were renting or Section 8 and they didn’t own their houses, so the owners decided property values are high enough and they said, ‘OK, time for y’all to go.’ ”

The city desperately tried to get my family to give up our spot on the block. We wouldn’t go, and neither would many neighbors around the way who just wouldn’t budge.

Keya Kennedy, a Southwest resident who has lived in Syphax Gardens Public Housing since before the stadium was built, didn’t fear pushback from contractors. “This is our city, [and] if we work and pay our rent the same way like anybody else, then we deserve to be here just as well,” she said. “They tried to put fear in us, but that didn’t happen.”

The city has a history of attempting to put fear in black residents, and this cycle is deeply rooted in Southwest. Therefore, today’s gentrification is actually no coincidence. In 1952, according to There’s No Place Like Home: Anthropological Perspectives on Housing and Homelessness in the United States, the Redevelopment Authority enacted a “renewal plan” for Southwest that drove out its thriving black community at the time. The black population in the District went from 71 percent at its peak in the 1970s to losing the majority in 2011, just three years after the Nats came to Southwest.

The “ballpark in the ‘hood” has caused the tearing down of many longtime D.C. establishments, and the “new and improved” Southwest has since experienced new visitors frequenting the neighborhood.

Kennedy notices more white people, but not only during baseball games. “Every day, going to the Metro, in our stores,” she said. “Everywhere.”

Our black residents are annoyed that we don’t have access to many places that were signs of our identity. They were replaced.

A pedestrian walks past a construction site adjacent to Nationals Park, on September, 18, 2014 in Washington, DC.

Bill O'Leary/The Washington Post via Getty Images

“There are no gas stations around here, and no fast-food places or places for us to eat,” Kennedy said. Besides the lack of accessibility to basic necessities such as food and fuel, Southwest is missing its social atmosphere as well. The city razed many hallmarks of our once-black community, such as the nightclubs like Zanzibar and H20 on the old Waterfront.

“That was the spot,” said Michelle Stanton, a resident of D.C. for 30 years after moving here from Rhode Island. “That’s where black people went because they felt comfortable.”

All around the stadium there are new hotels, dry cleaners, banks and a trendier look for the newest occupants. I’ve never seen so many “coming soon” posters on street corners. To some, it may appear to make the area more accommodating for fans and tourists, but in reality it has driven out those who look like me.

“They came in, and they kind of bullied their way in,” said Stanton, who lives on Half Street Southwest. “They had no respect for black people … they didn’t care about black people.”

Grosshan broke down D.C. and the current state of gentrification in the simplest way he could: “Well, black folk are leaving and white folk are coming in,” he said.

Contrary to Henry Louis Gates Jr.’s four-hour series Black America Since MLK: And Still I Rise, this is quite the opposite of white flight; it’s yet another form of black migration and the African diaspora. Now it is, as the adage goes, out with the old (black) and in with the new (white).

“Chocolate City” might not ever reach the chocolateness of its heyday, according to Stanton. “That’ll never happen again,” she said. “It’s white chocolate.”

Some of us miss the real Southwest D.C. and the oh-so-real D.C. We could do without this white chocolate substitution.

“I’ve noticed a lessening of that ethnic flavor,” Grosshan said, referring to the music and partying he used to hear at night in his alley. “That’s just because of the changeover in people.”

The stadium didn’t clean up the community, it just cleaned many of us and our institutions out. An emblem of black neighborhoods has always been the black church. Second Baptist Church Southwest used to be located across from the Southwest DMV, but it sold its property and moved to District Heights, Maryland, in 2011. The neighborhood became too expensive because of the ballpark.

“[The stadium] had a definite impact on our ability to stay in Southwest,” said Janice Lucas, chairman of the church’s board of trustees. “We had been there since the early ’50s.”

Without our churches, urban flavor and ethnic atmosphere, the chocolate west has been depleted, and the District has gone from a chocolate city to a much lighter and fluffier treat that I call s’mores.

The baseball stadium’s displacement of black bodies, institutions and culture in Southwest, much like D.C.’s state of gentrification, signifies how some corporations and the many new white folks view us.

“We’re just a color to them,” Stanton said. “I guess we don’t matter.”

In another world, Rachel and Kenny would have been perfect for each other After four black guys are eliminated on ‘The Bachelorette,’ we’re left with just Eric

Rachel, I doubted you, but you pulled through and made the right choice: Lee is gone, y’all! Bachelor Nation can now enjoy The Bachelorette (sorry, Chicago!) without feeling guilty about watching a racist dude pine after a black woman. But even with Lee out of the picture, Kenny wasn’t safe. He just couldn’t walk away from the two-on-one without some choice final words for Lee, none of which are appropriate for me to repeat here. His decision to go back irked Rachel, but Kenny eventually got the rose.

Here’s where things got really good. We all know Kenny is a devoted father, so much so he’s apparently the only cast member who is allowed to have contact with the outside world. If you’re not ugly-crying during his emotional Skype sessions with his 10-year-old daughter, McKenzie, well, you’re just not here for the right reasons. On Monday night, Clinton (who so graciously allows me to take over every now and again) wondered why Kenny stayed at all, given how he had to put up with such nonsense from Lee. Tuesday night, Kenny answered that question: “The potential impact that Rachel could have in our lives is the reason I’m still here.” He’s so devoted to his daughter.

Unfortunately it wasn’t enough, as after a heart-to-heart with Rachel she let him go because she knew how much of a toll being away from McKenzie was for him. And he left graciously, acknowledging how smart and insightful Rachel is. Kenny was willing to give up Rachel for his daughter, which is all we can hope and ask for. I’m not crying, you are! I hope it works out with Rachel and whoever she does pick, because if it doesn’t work out with that guy, I think she’ll regret that Kenny slipped through her grasp.

There were other, not so gracious exits. Oh, Josiah. You were never as cool as you thought you were.

Also leaving the show were Anthony and Will. Neither man had anything wrong with him per se, but they didn’t have what Rachel’s looking for. Let’s talk about Will. I won’t even get into his dating history (white girls). The more pertinent thing is the way he behaved around Rachel. He was extremely respectful, to the point of emotional and physical distance. As we’ve seen time and time again with some of the more assertive guys, Rachel isn’t looking for a guy who takes his time, and a lot of the men on the show hover somewhere between shy and respectful, depending on how you look at who you’re rooting for.

But here’s the thing: Rachel is a power bottom. She’s looking for that guy who will take charge and scoop her in for a kiss without asking first. Will wasn’t willing to step up to the plate, so Rachel sent him packing after their one-on-one. She was insulted when he told her about how passionate he was in past relationships (with white women), and she had every right to be because he wasn’t showing her any of that passion. Will doesn’t have to try so hard to elucidate passion with white women, I guarantee you. Just his big, black presence is enough for them. Rachel clearly didn’t appreciate being Will’s black girl experiment. This is, perhaps, the learning moment we’ve been waiting for.

At this point there are two clear front-runners: Bryan and Eric. From day one, Rachel has been extremely attracted to both men, but they offer very different things. Bryan is the alpha of the pack and exudes sex appeal. He’s suave, but we don’t really know that much about him, which is unusual at this point in the game. It’s looking more and more like he’s a loser in cool clothing. Eric is the sweeter of the two, and his eagerness at the prospect of a relationship makes up for the fact that he doesn’t move as fast as Bryan. Plus, he’s an open book.

There are also two dark horses:

Seriously, who are these guys and how did they get a rose when Alex didn’t?! I can’t believe they’re still here when four (4!) black guys were eliminated in one episode. I can’t wait for next week.

Clinton Yates contributed to this report.

The words ‘I thought my life was in danger’ allow police to kill black people without fear of reprisal When the police officer assumes the power of the slave master

A slave master, four centuries ago, could avoid legal sanction for using lethal force against his enslaved property by simply saying the latter opposed correction. “I was disciplining my slave, who then resisted.” Utter those magic words and the state would level no punishment if the master committed homicide. A police officer, now, can avoid legal sanction for using lethal force against a person by simply saying the latter made the officer fear for his or her life. “I stopped someone on the street, and I then thought my life was in danger.” Utter those magic words and the state will level no punishment if the officer commits homicide.

Black folk, always the victim in the first context, also bear the brunt of these legal realities in the second. Thus, because of these magic words, black people living today, during police encounters, have the same right to life as did a stolen African in the 17th century.

My mind conceived this historical analogy while stewing in the misery produced by the acquittal of St. Anthony, Minnesota, police officer Jeronimo Yanez, who snatched away the life of Philando Castile, a black man. During a traffic stop for a busted taillight, Castile, after informing Yanez he had a firearm, reached for his identification per Yanez’s request. Yanez told him not to pull out his firearm. Castile replied, “I’m not pulling it out.” Yanez next fired his gun seven times into the white 1997 Oldsmobile, killing Castile, as his girlfriend and her 4-year-old daughter sat inches away as a man they loved breathed his final breaths while bathing in his own blood.

Yanez, on the witness stand during his trial, uttered those magic words: “I was scared to death. I thought I was going to die. … I had no other choice.” He, therefore, walked out of Ramsey County courthouse a free man, a jury acquitting him of second-degree manslaughter and other lesser offenses. Castile’s family, though, left shedding tears, a melancholic scene that recent events have forced to replay on an endless loop, most recently when former Milwaukee officer Dominique Heaggan-Brown was acquitted for killing Sylville Smith, despite the incident being filmed.

Much of the outcry about these verdicts has focused on how they reveal that racial oppression molests every aspect of our criminal justice apparatus, how the system operates as intended when it never punishes cops who kill black folk. Although this conversation must hurtle onward, we must also situate these fatal occurrences in historical context, dramatizing how harrowing the black plight continues to be. We achieve this by reckoning with a brutal truth — during police encounters, black folk have as much agency over whether they will ever lay eyes on their loved ones again as their enslaved ancestors did when being punished by their masters.

The Virginia Colony, in 1669, enacted a statute permitting the killing of an enslaved person who resisted an owner’s corrective punishment. The reasoning behind the statute appalls current sensibilities: “[I]t cannot be presumed that propensed malice,” the statute stated, “should induce any man to destroy his own estate.” Since an owner, in other words, would not lay waste to his own property because of evil intentions, the state should presume the owner acted properly when such killings occurred. Other colonies, because Virginia was the first and most influential colony, followed suit, passing similar laws. This meant something horrifying for the enslaved throughout colonial America — the law allowed an owner to kill them if the owner’s story fit a specified narrative.

So, too, can police officers kill when their stories fit a specified narrative, the I-feared-for-my-life narrative. Officers can use deadly force when reasonably believing their lives are in peril. The Supreme Court wrote, in Graham v. Connor, the situation “must be judged from the perspective of a reasonable officer on the scene, rather than with the 20/20 vision of hindsight.” Because prosecutors and jurors presume officers behave properly, a presumption that slave owners enjoyed too, whether they get charged or convicted turns more on their ability to recount a convincing tale than on the surrounding facts.

American society transmits explicit and implicit messages about black people’s inherent dangerousness, making us susceptible to believing a black person posed a threat in most any scenario. Cops understand that should an ordeal with a black person turn deadly, their ability to utter the magic words inoculates them from punishment, a scary fact that black folk understand all too well.

The police officer, like the slave master before him, has been allowed by the state to dispense summary justice. If white people feared, like black people do, that their lives were subject to the decision-making of an easily frightened or malicious officer, changes would surely be instituted. To prevent the next Philando Castile or Sylville Smith, black folk need allies willing to wield arms in the battle to strip the magic from words.

The NBA Awards show scores a win for the league — and for fashion Players and stars go for the slam dunk on the red carpet

The first annual NBA Awards kicked off in Basketball City at Pier 36 in New York with a hosting assist from Drake and a seriously good style show from some of the best players in sports.

It’s true that the biggest NBA stars were not there — no LeBron James, no Stephen Curry or Kevin Durant, for example — but that will likely change next year. This awards show has plenty of room to grow into the “NBA Prom.” Besides, everyone knows how obsessed with fashion NBA players have become. Work that red carpet, boy! You know you want to. The fans want you to. And we will all watch anything — anything — that’s NBA-related in the postseason.

The top-of-the-line fashion appraisal of the night: A-plus for effort. Everyone pretty much brought their A game and were, as Dennis Green once said, exactly who we thought they would be (Draymond Green and John Wall). Actually, a few players did better than expected (we see you, JaVale McGee!), and the rest left the ridiculous style stuff to the Hollywood types (Nick Cannon and his ratty turban). Can’t wait for next year.

Oklahoma City Thunder’s Russell Westbrook won a few awards Monday night, including the NBA MVP and Game Winner of the Year. He also (rightly) won the best style award. Westbrook carried his suit jacket and let us luxuriate in his perfectly cut trousers, white shirt, tie and muscles.

Golden State Warriors’ Draymond Green

Green won the Defensive Player of the Year award Monday night, and your boy came to the show wearing a seafoam tuxedo jacket, formal Bermuda shorts and velvet slippers. Jesus, be a fence!

James Harden

James Harden lost the MVP award to Westbrook, his former Thunder teammate, but the Houston Rockets point guard was in fine style form after his recent jaunt to men’s fashion week in Paris. A muted green/blue suit and patterned shirt with brown suede boots? Very fall 2017. The Beard never disappoints.

James Harden attends the 2017 NBA Awards at Basketball City – Pier 36 – South Street on June 26, 2017 in New York City.

Gonzalo Marroquin/Patrick McMullan via Getty Images

2 Chainz

The Atlanta hip-hop star is a huge NBA fan and was a constant courtside presence throughout the playoffs and Finals. He performed “Realize” with Nicki Minaj during the show. His pre-show outfit of capri pants and gold jewelry was a combo order of “dinner date at Cheesecake Factory” and “Saturday soccer dad.”

2 Chainz attends the 2017 NBA Awards at Basketball City – Pier 36 – South Street on June 26, 2017 in New York City.

Paul Zimmerman/WireImage

2 Chainz attends the 2017 NBA Awards at Basketball City – Pier 36 – South Street on June 26, 2017 in New York City.

Gonzalo Marroquin/Patrick McMullan via Getty Images

John Wall

Washington Wizards player John Wall was best dressed of the entire night in his custom three-piece suit by Jhoanna Alba and Christian Louboutin sneakers.

NBA player John Wall attends the 2017 NBA Awards at Basketball City – Pier 36 – South Street on June 26, 2017 in New York City.

Gonzalo Marroquin/Patrick McMullan via Getty Images

Ros Gold-Onwude and Drake

Ros Gold-Onwude, the Stanford-educated sideline reporter for the Golden State Warriors, walked the red carpet with Drake and legit sent Twitter into “Who’s that girl?” meltdown. The color of her red Jessica Rabbit dress (and figure) popped against Drake’s classic white dinner jacket and black tux pants.

Rosalyn Gold-Onwude and Drake arrive at the NBA Awards at Basketball City on June 26, 2017 in New York.

BRYAN R. SMITH/AFP/Getty Images

Wanda Pratt

Kevin Durant’s mother, Wanda “the Real MVP” Pratt, wore a bright yellow Carolina Herrera gown, Christian Louboutin heels and loads of stylist-assisted jewels.

Wanda Durant attends the 2017 NBA Awards at Basketball City – Pier 36 – South Street on June 26, 2017 in New York City.

BRYAN R. SMITH/AFP/Getty Images

Jada Pinkett Smith

Actress Jada Pinkett Smith was a presenter (with Grant Hill) at the awards in a sheer black-and-gold lace gown from Sophie Theallet’s spring/summer 2017 collection. Stunning.

Jada Pinkett Smith attends the 2017 NBA Awards at Basketball City – Pier 36 – South Street on June 26, 2017 in New York City.

Gonzalo Marroquin/Patrick McMullan via Getty Images

‘The Bachelorette’ is fun again, but still left a lot to be desired Lee vs. Kenny is getting real old real quick

And we’re back!

Sorry about being missing in action with the intellectual hot takes last week, but both of us (Clinton and Tierra, if you didn’t know) were too in our feelings about the drama in Bachelor Universe to really enjoy the show. This week, on The Bachelorette at least, spirits were slightly higher and we’ve got a lot of fun stuff to discuss. But first, because we are smart people who have smart things to say about trash television, we must address the elephant in the room: Lee and Kenny.

Right off the bat, Lee, who is white, resumed his racially coded analysis of Kenny, who is black and who Lee has a real problem with, presumably because he is black. “You have an unrealistic violent aspect about you,” Lee tells Kenny, who decided to approach Lee calmly about Lee’s breach of their friendship and all-around stupidity. Whoooo, Jesus, let’s go. Five minutes in and we’re already stressed. And, spoiler alert, it doesn’t get any better with these two. By the end of the episode, the bloody, “violent” conflict the trailers have been teasing for the past week isn’t resolved — it hasn’t even begun, actually — and we have to wait until Tuesday night to figure out what actually happens on their two-on-one date with Rachel.

So, what’s the payoff for all of this going to be? What do we, Bachelor Nation, have to gain by watching this racially fueled feud between noted bigot Lee and devoted father and possible future Bachelor Kenny? It’s hard to be invested in the show as a whole when there’s this subplot that has the producers’ handprints all over it. The only thing keeping our attention this season is the potential of a huge payoff. There has to be a learning moment. Maybe Rachel will open her eyes to see Lee for what he really is (🐍) and she gives an impassioned speech about the many pitfalls black women encounter when they make themselves vulnerable to the realities of dating, and she calls out all the dudes who collectively are not worth it. Maybe. It’d be great to see such a conversation about race play out on national television.

But, who knows! Until that happens, there are other things we gotta talk about because, fam, this episode was wild. First up, this one-on-one with Jack Stone, who is entirely too weird and needed to go.

Jack looks like Joel Osteen, but perhaps more importantly, he acts like Joel Osteen.

Rachel escaped with her life but couldn’t quite escape his kiss attempt. It was such a wholesome one-on-one, but wholesome doesn’t cut it on this show. Jack went home after a forgettable date, and later on Tickle Monster (what’s that guy’s name again?) and Iggy “Wendy Williams” Rodriguez joined him. Good riddance.

After lackluster appearances all around from the guys, Bryan shines through like a beacon of hope, leaving me (Tierra) swooning on my couch and leaving my boyfriend, Juan, whom I have coerced into watching this episode with me, launching into a string of conspiracy theories about Bryan Bae, none of which I will believe.

Basically he thinks Bryan is fronting on — well, on all fronts. He doesn’t think Bryan is as suave and sexy in real life as he makes himself out to be on the show, and that Bryan is just taking this opportunity to reinvent himself. He’s probably just a huge bore in real life who knows his way around the romantic dictionary.

Personally, I think Juan is a hater, but there may be proof in the pudding:

But back to Lee and Kenny! The producers demand it! It’s clearly freezing during their two-on-one with Rachel, who is bundled to the nines, but Lee isn’t wearing a coat, or even a jacket. He has a hoodie on. This says more about him as a person than anything he’s ever said. Aren’t snakes cold-blooded? Rachel is intelligent, but she’s relying too much on house gossip to get to the bottom of the Lee-Kenny, he-said, he-said drama. Open your eyes, girl!

Unfortunately the show cut off right as it was getting good, but thank the Bachelor Universe gods that we have a two-night special. Who’s going home? It’s a toss-up at this point, which makes me concerned for Rachel’s decision-making skills (as an aside, she usually knows exactly what she wants, which is an aspirational trait). Hold on to your hats, fam.

Clinton Yates contributed to this report.

Harlem’s 125th Street is getting its very own 20-story Hip Hop Hall of Fame and Museum Museum founder JT Thompson’s vision is coming to life after 25 years of planning

Harlem, New York, known for its African-American contributions to cultural, social and artistic creativity, is adding even more flavor to the neighborhood with the addition of a Hip Hop Hall of Fame and Museum slated to open next winter.

The museum, chartered by the nonprofit Museum and Educational Institution, won a bid earlier this month for building space on Harlem’s famed 125th Street, home of the world-famous Apollo Theater, with a mission to “preserve, archive, exhibit, educate and showcase hip-hop music and culture from around the world.” Special exhibits will include the history of hip-hop, its development and impact on social trends, while also featuring wax figures of enshrined hip-hop pioneers and legends, memorabilia and collectibles.

Under the direction of development project manager Thompson International Professionals, Hip Hop Hall of Fame founder James “JT” Thompson and Zubatkin Owner Representation’s Andrew Bast, the museum will be constructed in two phases.

A rendering of the Hip Hop Hall of Fame Museum on 125th Street.

Courtesy of the Hip Hop Hall of Fame

Phase I, set to open in February 2018, heavily concentrates on a floor-by-floor plan that will include a cafe, gallery, visitors bureau and retail gift store on the first level. The museum itself, along with event space, offices and a multimedia studio for film and television content production, will be housed on the second floor. Phase II, more intricate in complexity and design, will encompass a 20-story Hip Hop Hall of Fame and Museum Hotel Entertainment complex that features the hall of fame museum, five-star hotel, retail mall and gift shop, arcade, TV studios, sports bar, restaurant and concert lounge with a goal of serving up to 1 million local, national and international visitors annually, according to a press release.

The museum will also focus on community involvement and education by providing a program that will give 25,000 New York City public school children an opportunity to visit the facility on field trips with museum tours, live assembly programs, academic awards and gift bags. The facility is set to bring an estimated $350 million of socioeconomic impact to New York and surrounding areas by providing permanent and part-time jobs, job training, internships and community volunteer opportunities, live events, shows, concerts and educational programs.

Thompson, an Army veteran who served until 1988, used the discipline, focus and attention to detail he acquired in the military to focus on breaking into the business as a concert promoter and television producer. Thompson created and executive-produced the first Hip Hop Hall of Fame Awards show on the BET cable network in 1996, shortly before the shooting deaths of hip-hop icons Tupac Shakur and The Notorious B.I.G.

Although the journey to open the museum spanned over two decades, Thompson remained steadfast in his mission to deliver the most complete experience in hip-hop’s influence on culture and history in America.

“This has been a labor of love,” Thompson said. “It’s had its valleys, mountains, peaks and falloffs. In the Army, I had leaders, mentors and brothers like teammates working to achieve something special. In life and in business, be disciplined and finish strong without quitting.”

Kevin Powell in awkward spot over Tupac movie Former journalist says his work from ‘Vibe’ magazine was lifted

Things did not get off to a great start for All Eyez On Me, the Tupac Shakur biopic that had been hotly anticipated for years. Ever since the death of Shakur’s mother, Afeni, last May, there were concerns about how her son’s legacy and likeness would be used. She was the main gatekeeper of his message and identity after he was killed. The main concern was that the movie would either just be awful or, perhaps worse, counterfactual or ahistorical. Turns out, it was a bit of both.

Now, Kevin Powell, a former hip-hop journalist who is now an author and public speaker, says he plans to sue the producers and writers of the film, effectively for lifting his work with no compensation. He issued a statement Friday on Facebook.

This is nothing short of a deathblow to this film, from a credibility standpoint. When it was first released last week, the debut was marred by the fact that Jada Pinkett Smith, Pac’s longtime close friend, basically said that most of the on-screen relationship in the movie was a lie. She was understanding and graceful about her misgivings, but everyone understood that without her cosign, nobody could take it seriously.

Which was unfortunate more than anything. We all wanted to love this film. It many respects, it was more important than some of these other biopics because of, obviously, the subject of the film. No one wanted to know that the actual people involved in his life didn’t respect it or like it.

To follow that up, legendary movie director John Singleton said the biopic was worse than Lifetime’s attempt to document Aaliyah’s life, career and death — widely considered a complete mockery of her history. Mind you, Singleton was supposed to direct this Tupac movie, so his shade comes with a tad more bias than most. Nonetheless, it’s been one thing after another for director Benny Boom on this flick. All Eyez On Me earned $27 million its first weekend and is in theaters now.

But along with this accusation came an admission that fundamentally affects the overall lens through which we see Tupac’s life. In his complaint, Powell basically admits that he made a decent portion of those stories up, including a central figure who appears in the film named Nigel. Talk about awkward. No one wants to see their work get stolen, but to basically say the reason you knew why is because they passed on a lie that you created has to be a sinking feeling.

Whether or not Powell wins this case I don’t know, but if one of the central pieces of canon in the legacy of one of our most celebrated artists is based on a lie that even he didn’t know about, what are we to believe overall? Now we know why Afeni fought so hard to keep her son’s truth in the forefront.

It’s no surprise Drake dropped three new tracks — here are the three reasons why He owned ‘Summer Sixteen,’ and now Aubrey Graham’s quest to stay relevant this summer has officially begun

On the last track of his long-awaited playlist More Life, which was released mid-March, Drake did the unthinkable: In the final four lines of the song, he informed the world that he was taking a sabbatical from music. Even more shocking, the Toronto hitmaker professed that the time off would take place during a time of the year when he always flourishes creatively.

Takin’ summer off, ’cause they tell me I need recovery / Maybe gettin’ back to my regular life will humble me / I’ll be back in 2018 to give you the summary / More life, Drake floated on the playlist’s 22nd track, titled “Do Not Disturb.”

The declaration itself is jarringly out of character, and its contents are strange. For the past four years, when the weather heats up, school’s out and the rooftop parties are in full swing, it’s inevitable that the season’s soundtrack is brought to you by Drizzy. Receipts below:

2016

One Dance,” “Controlla,” “Too Good (featuring Rihanna),” you name it. “Summer Sixteen” — the name of his track that inspired a 60-show journey across North America with Atlanta rapper Future, the highest-grossing hip-hop tour of all time — belonged to Drake, all sparked by the release of his fourth studio album, Views, in April 2016.

2015

The smash hit “Hotline Bling” sticks out, but don’t forget the two diss tracks directed at Meek Mill, “Charged Up” and “Back to Back,” from which the Philly rapper has yet to recover.

2014

Diddy gave Drake a beat and asked him to ghostwrite for it. But Drake took it for himself and delivered the undeniable “0 to 100/The Catch Up” in July 2014 — one of his definitive tracks that never made one of his albums.

2013

Drake gave us the smooth “Hold On We’re Going Home” in August 2013, which teed up one of the best albums — if not the best — of his career, Nothing Was the Same.


After such prolific summers, how would Drake take off in 2017?

It looked like he wouldn’t. Until now. But Drake recently made his way onto three new tracks. There’s the Louis Vuitton 2018 spring/summer runway theme “Signs,” a remix of PartyNextDoor’s “Freak in You” and a Metro Boomin-produced collaboration with Migos rapper Offset, titled “No Complaints.”

As his trademark season was approaching, Drake’s bold proclamation at the end of “Do Not Disturb” proved to be a bluff. He couldn’t resist the urge to release music this summer, and here are the reasons:

  • For a brief moment, Drake wasn’t the man anymore

Nearly a month after More Life dropped, Drake became a bit of an afterthought because of the release of the already certified platinum album DAMN., from Kendrick Lamar. The drop had to irk Drake at least a little bit, for the simple fact that it was Kendrick. Those two have been going at it for years, with a subtle beef dating back as far as 2013. And now, to Drake’s chagrin, Kendrick is the current leader in the clubhouse of critical acclaim.

  • Jay Z is set to drop his first album in four years

I shouldn’t even worry, backward n—-s / 12 solo albums, all platinum, n—- / I know you ain’t out here talkin’ numbers, right? / I know you ain’t out here talkin’ summers, right? These are Jay Z’s seminal lines from DJ Khaled’s Grateful track “Shining” (also featuring Beyoncé) that debuted in early 2017. Was Hov taking a shot at Drake? That’s what everyone thinks. Even though Drizzy began his career by rapping I never cried when ’Pac died / But I probably will when Hov does, asserting his admiration for the man many consider the greatest of all time— GOAT of hip-hop. The two MCs have butted heads quite a bit over the years, through bars and petty chess moves. Drake continued the trend with three new tracks on the brink of Jay Z releasing 4:44, his first album since 2013. Coincidence? Probably not.

  • Drake’s personal life became a bigger focus than the music

Not once, but twice, since the release of More Life, claims have been made that Drake has gotten a woman pregnant. First, a former stripper named Layla Lace alleged that the Toronto artist was the father of her unborn child, though the rumor was quickly dispelled. Then, TMZ reported that former porn star Sophie Brussaux was pregnant with Drake’s child — and she’s got a baby bump to support her claim. “If it is in fact Drakes child, which he does not believe, he would do the right thing by the child,” one of the artist’s reps said in a statement to the New York Daily News. So, in a way, the new music is a proclamation from Drake that, after all that’s happened out of the studio in the past few months, “I’m still here.”

Regardless of why you think Drake made a return, the reality is he’s back with new music that will certainly be in rotation this summer. The question, though, is this: Is there a new summer 17 project from the 6 God in the works? We shall see.

‘The Bachelor’ franchise is a mess right now and we have no one to blame but ourselves

If you wanted to walk away from everything right now, I wouldn’t blame you.

In the past two weeks, what used to be a lighthearted (albeit “dramatic”) series that features people dating on television, The Bachelor brand has been rocked by issues as important to American society as anything you might see on CNN. We’re all complicit, and quite frankly, we should have seen this coming.

Because it’s salient to the current The Bachelorette, we’ll start there. With their first black Bachelorette in her big moment, of course, it was instantly ruined.

As soon as Dean stepped on the stage and said, “I’m ready to go black and I’ll never go back,” that signaled this show was likely going off the rails sooner rather than later. Sure, it was live television, but we let our collective guards down. He’s young! He was nervous! Sure. But think about it: You can’t let that happen. It doesn’t take a lot for a producer to ask contestants what they’re going to say and to make sure they do. It was a clear indication that they were down for shenanigans from jump.

So by the time we get to this situation with Lee, Eric and then Kenny, we should have known that not only was this not going to go well, but our intelligence might get insulted in the interim. And that’s exactly what happened. Because the franchise decided that instead of actually allowing us to see the depth of the person who is Rachel, we’re subjected to an arc that stokes plantation politics as a driving force for the storyline.

“Kenny is a big ol’ meat head, and I wanted to break him down,” Lee says at one point. These are not the coded words we’re looking for from a guy with a history of extremely bigoted tweets and social media banter. Instead of this becoming a point of shame or education, at this point, it’s not just an accident. My colleague Domonique Foxworth says they’re actively trafficking in racist tensions to push the plot. Lee and Kenny have a two-on-one date next week, which is apparently worth a two-night special. It’s gross.

Things have gotten so bad that the network has reportedly forced at least one contestant to cancel interviews about the situation until after the season ends.

We haven’t even gotten to the Bachelor In Paradise situation, which feels equally slimy. After an incident with contestant Corrine Olympios, they’ve basically tried to act like the whole thing was just a big misunderstanding. On top of that, the guy involved in it, DeMario Jackson, has been invited back to the show.

They claimed an investigation was carried out, and we’ll be seeing Paradise this summer after all. But the issue of whether the fundamental premise of the show is based on implied consent at all times has not been addressed. Instead, Olympios has said she was a victim. She’s still lawyered up, understandably. Instead of an honest conversation about alcohol and what that means when it comes to sexual assault, we’re forced into a narrative that effectively implies that a woman is lying.

It’s not about implying Jackson necessarily did anything wrong. But call it what you want. By fueling people up with booze and dicey conditions for consent, you’re basically selling rape culture on an island. Of course, we all sort of knew that, but there was a reasonable benefit of the doubt you could give to the producers and the program. Now it all feels like a scramble to make us forget this ever happened. Which will probably work because, all this notwithstanding, Paradise is the best show of all three.

So this is what we’re left with headed into Monday night’s episode. A franchise that’s staked itself to a couple of premises that make the entire situation not only not fun, but actively painful. Maybe at some point there’s a way to find some level of redemption in this, but that’s not realistic. There’s too much money to be made and, as some contestants have pleaded, if it all goes away then, well, suddenly everyone involved is irrelevant.

But whatever it takes to get to paradise, I guess.

Daily Dose: 6/26/17 BET Awards provide many moments for the culture

Sunday night, settle down to the television, get on the Twitter box and go. That’s pretty much the routine when it comes to awards shows, and last night was no different. The BET Awards did not disappoint, but they did run way long.

Where do we begin? Los Angeles was popping with black star power Sunday night, and because of who it was there were also plenty of blunders that were pretty funny. I kept a running thread on Twitter about the various observations I had, but most importantly, it was a come up and a half for Leslie Jones. The comedian, who had an extremely tough year in terms of personal strife, was showing all the way out as the host and was definitely funny. If you root for black women to succeed, which you should, last night was a victory for us all.

The value of a black life seems to be ever-changing. In the case of Philando Castile, it’s apparently $3 million. That’s the amount that the family of the man murdered in front of his girlfriend and her child reached in a settlement with the city of St. Anthony Village, Minnesota. Reminder: The man who killed him while on duty was acquitted in his case. When you ask why people consider violence against black people to be state-sponsored, this is why. If you live there, your taxes are paying for him to be killed and also for the consequences.

Capitalism is a fickle beast. Because in theory, market forces in certain scenarios will help everyone out. But, unfortunately overall, the system doesn’t work unless poor people exist. So when you try to overcorrect for previous forms of mistreatment like low wages, if you go too far you blow up business models that were not created on that math. Instead of everyone just getting more money, people have to stop working. There’s concern right now that Seattle might have done exactly that.

John McEnroe is a hater. On top of that, he is apparently sexist. It’s 2017, and to sell a book he’s still going on with this notion that for any woman to be given her credit as an athlete, she must be compared with a man. That’s a) complete nonsense and b) COMPLETE NONSENSE. Serena Williams is the best tennis player he’s ever seen, and he’s just scared to say that out loud because it would rattle his whole raison d’etre. Instead, he throws out a number that she might be ranked if she were a man. Breaking: She’s not. And doesn’t need to be.

Free Food

Coffee Break: Look. I love Migos. This is not news. But Everyday Struggle has become a show that, for whatever reason, manages to make news. Between DJ Akademiks and Joe Budden, these two create viral moments that are either wildly embarrassing or extremely effective. You can take what you will from this Migos confrontation.

Snack Time: If you thought the Ball family empire was limited to just basketball and clothes, you’ve got another think coming. It looks like LaVar Ball could actually be close to inking something with the WWE, which is fantastic.

Dessert: Q-Tip put on for his fallen Queens homey, Prodigy, on Beats1. May he rest in peace.