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If you keyword search “ghetto” in a music library that spans from Donnie Hathaway to A$AP Rocky, then you’re sure to get an urban opera as a playlist. Evolving from Jewish roots, the word hasn’t lost its “let my people go” feel. Ironically, most totally associate “ghetto” with black people. I’m even surprised it wasn’t used in the country/rap song everybody’s talking about. If it was, and depending on which artist said it, how would it be interpreted?

I could always tell people raised in the projects from how they pushed the elevator button. If they pushed the up & down arrows simultaneously and repeatedly, then 9 out of 10 times I was right. Many of you, especially non-city dwellers, may think that’s a weak litmus test because that’s something people in general do when in a rush. Maybe, but you know you’re ghetto when…

…Anyway, did I mention my problem with the way most white people use the word “ghetto,” especially if it’s preceded by the word “so.” My reaction is more eye roll than cringe but I discovered I’m not alone. In all fairness it’s somewhat innocent, like an inaccurate description truncated to a trending hashtag. It kind of makes the user feel in tune with traditional ghetto fairy tales. We all do our part to reinforce and glorify a “keep it ghetto” mentality, which is self-oppressive. What we really mean is “keep it hood,” because like the unofficial Chinese food franchise, the universal landmarks of the neighborhood become the temples of familiar. Real ghetto conditions spawn a gritty ingenuity that some boast about, at times with shameful silence, simply because they seek recognition for pulling off something impossible. That’s why for some refugees, the ghetto harbors a relentless sense of indescribable pain. I mean, how many people saw the movie “Precious” more than once? I mean, when Treach says “don’t ever come to the ghetto,” that’s pain juxtaposed with “everything’s gonna be alright.”  It’s another one of those words that weigh a ton and has more in common with a concentration camp than it doesn’t. I’m not saying it’s an oven, but a marginalizing conditioner that breeds a cyclical behavior pattern; hence it’s not easy to get out the kitchen when you can’t take the heat. At least slaves knew they were slaves and Jews knew which side of genocide they were on.

The ghetto is a forlorn sovereign state and state of mind. It has no walls but is paved in sinking cement. If you don’t have a weapon, you have a shield. If the cookie crumbles at least you can still eat it. It’s an underbelly that drafts you into the American myth. In the ghetto, people know the price of everything they can’t afford which creates a value system based on take whatever you can get. That’s what makes the very bottom and the very top so identical in nature. Ruthless pushers constantly poison the food chain to stay on top of it. We’re all animals but some can’t contain the beast within.

Since the ghetto isn’t protected by establishments, the traps are endless and crosshairs pan moving targets. There’s no off switch, so on your day of bliss you are still outnumbered by those who feel shitty making you vulnerable to circumstances. People are always outside because they’re cramped inside. Reluctant intellectuals are too busy outwitting law authorities and Murphy’s Law, so they dropout. Too often, they don’t become legalese experts until they’re behind bars. Screams of “Gestapo” fell on deaf ears long before camcorders caught Rodney King’s beating and still there was no justice. People don’t assimilate because they don’t trust it or are too institutionalized by ghetto rules that they…press the up & down elevator button at the same time. I’m playing, like comic relief rooted in pain. Now you see why Blacks and Jews dominate comedy. As for all “other” Whites, you may think poverty is the equalizer to pain until you factor skin complexion, sort of like Brad Paisley pointed out. It’s hard to hide in the shadows when your skin glows in the dark.

“A child is born with no state of mind, blind to the ways of mankind”

So many ghetto anthems, but none say what I attempting better than “The Message.” It captures the internal and external bleeding with both a mouse hole and bird’s eye perspective. In one stroke, Ghostface and Mary J paint a poverty line that makes the writers of “Good Times” look like cartoonists.  Jay-Z’s “Young, Gifted & Black” freestyle is one of the best compare and contrast commentaries that upgrades what every little ghetto boy song encapsulates. In the oppressed labyrinth, your neighborhood watch comprises of orphan Annie, Claudine and your everyday menace to society. It’s an abusive relationship where the pockets of ghetto heaven keep you deeply in love, with hope, until disaster strikes again.

“Getting out” of the ghetto is like playing a video game where you don’t know how many lives you have until the game is over. That’s why ghetto superstars celebrate their high scores in gaudy fashion. When EBT meets Amex, you see it! Now, you don’t because most shiny things are tangible mirages. Still, the raw material remains and is romanticized. When the ghetto clashes with any culture it produces a hipster movement or a mainstream hit. Sometimes it even works best simply by pointing out differences in taste, such as Sir Mix-A-Lot’s intro “OMG, Becky look at her butt.” That’s the ghetto booty we adore, so we don’t subscribe to your magazine images. Though that’s a vital form of empowerment, our Hottentot beauty queens are usually subjected to domestic abuse at their own pageants. The post-traumatic effects of slavery make ghetto love way deeper than substituting sunflower seeds for rice at weddings.    

All that to say, whereas our collective use of ghetto is usually a reference to style, we should be conscious that it is also a psychological halfway house to a detrimental fate. Social engineering throughout time and the color spectrum of its inhabitants reveals that the ghetto is no accident. Trying to do something out the box, the Paisley and LL collaboration is a misunderstood honest effort that falls short of its goal, yet the purpose is undeniable – sounds kinda ghetto to me.