* Drgreave's Loc Take-down Video
* Pink2D4's Loc Take-down Video
* Onyxanya's Loc Take-down Video

I believe that as a loc wearers, we know when the time is right for change; if that's something you consider an option. Usually, the issue isn't with us wanting a change, but with the people around us. For some reason, people can get pretty attached to another person's hair. There are some people who will get angry at a woman for cutting her long hair. If you have been locked for years and people have gotten use to you having them, then those people be may be a little resistant to the change. However, it is best not to let their issues affect what it is that you truly want. The change should be for you, because that is what you want. If other people are so attached to your locs, perhaps they should consider starting their own.

So once you've weighed the benefits and losses and have decided that you are ready to remove your locs, you should know that taking down your locs may be option as opposed to cutting them off, if you're willing to put the time into it. Also, the decision to un-lock is yours and yours alone. Don't let others guilt trip you out of making a change. Finally, once you take down your locs, that set is gone; you cannot go back to them. Don't fret; you can always begin to loc again.

In my childhood years, I was a pediatrician in my fairytale. Then my sophomore year of high school came around and it was time to dissect animals (probably killed in the name of science) in Biology class. I was disgusted as I watched my partner butcher a dead frog and baby pig beyond recognition as clear fluids flew everywhere. I also hated the smell it gave off and wasn't looking forward to anything like this in medical school. I nearly failed the class because I refused to touch one. I was focused more on maintaining my squeaky clean hygiene than I was maintaining my grades. After that incident, I figured, "Well, if I can't cut through dead frogs and pigs, I definitely couldn't cut through a human." That's when I decided to be a Hollywood actress. Why not? I was always an actress at heart by forcing myself to do things I didn't want to do and kissing everyone's ass anyway. Of course, that didn't work out.

While I was daydreaming about everything I wasn't, I was very active in web and graphic design as a personal hobby, so I decided major in graphic design for college. My dream destination was to work in a graphic design firm under someone else. I would even freelance on the side. However, it didn't end up to be everything that I dreamed of. My work was either too "loud," didn't fit everyone's definition of the theme it was meant to represent, or too controlled. What I liked didn't gain the approval of everyone else until they jumped inside my brain and tweaked it into something that I didn't want to claim as an artist. The unfulfillment of it all was unbearable. That's when I realized that having a job, where I was constantly used as art's unhappy puppet, didn't suit my personality well.

I've had so much that's changed about me that it's not even funny. I forgot that my happiness was more important than more common ideal images, and got stressed out figuring out how I could redeem myself in the next three years so that I wouldn't be a loser by the time I showed up at my high school reunion.

I'm the complete opposite of everything I pictured myself to be. Now I'm twenty-five. I'm not married and it doesn't look like I'm getting married anytime soon. I had a daughter out of wedlock and where we live is a far, inaudible cry from being a gated community. Also, the next time I attempt to look at my credit score, I'm going to need someone to hold my hand just in case. I guess like many people, I went for what was ideal not for me, but for everyone else.

Now, I simply follow my heart. I never lost my passion for the arts and I'm involved more than I expected I would be. I don't care much for Hollywood, but I act in local plays from time to time. I'm not working at a firm where I have bossy, sometimes blood-sucking clients, I simply create my own world of design where I can have my work the way I want it. I never planned to be a painter, but now I am. I never thought I'd join a movement that would change the ideal image of the black woman, but I'm in it. Even though I'm not what everyone else wants me to be, I have purpose. If my current venture works, it works. If my current venture fails, it fails and I'll just try harder, or try something else. I modify my path into the most desirable direction for myself through trial and error. That's how it should be.

As much as it may be awesome to live the kind of life you revisit in your dreams every night, don't beat yourself up if things don't turn out the way you planned it. Just simply pick up the pieces and rearrange it in a way that suits you and makes you happy. Even though I haven't quite reached "mid-life" yet, I've been here long enough to know that life goes by faster than an Olympics-ready crack fiend. Just as long as you were stressed out by life's trials, you will get out of it just as quickly. Let loose and live.

I witnessed a little brother push his new born baby brother off of the table in his bouncy chair while his mother’s back was turned preparing a bottle. I was coming down the hallway into the kitchen when this happened, but it was so quick, all I could do was dial 911 while the mother cried and yelled. Now, this is just one scenario that I wouldn't want to be in after the birth of my second child. The baby is ok now, but spent a couple weeks in the hospital with a fractured skull. Now I’m not blaming the mother for this happening; she does that herself. However, I want to try my best to prevent something like that from happening to my family. So I've listed a few tips that I have done and will do, to help me prepare my son for the arrival of our newest addition.

1. First and foremost, let your child or children know what is in your belly.

2. Let your child/children feel on your belly, rub it, kiss it or whatever.

3. Always refer to the baby as “Our baby” not “My baby”.

4. Talk to your child/children about what they can do to help out once the baby arrives. For example: giving the baby baths, help changing the diapers, etc…

5. Include your child/children in the birthing process. Let them be at the hospital with you during this time, if possible.

6. Read books about being a big brother or sister. Get them excited about it.

7. Once baby is here, spend that quality time with your child/children that they'ill be craving.

8. When people come to bring gifts have them bring a little something for the sibling/siblings.

9. Take the child/children with you to the ultrasound appointments or when you go to hear the heartbeat.

10. Let the child/children practice the name you have picked, ask them their opinion.

11. Let your child/children express how they feel about becoming an older sibling

12. Let your child/children help you pick out some of the things for the new baby.

I’m sure there's more things that you could do to help prepare for the birth of a new baby, but these are just some of the things that I'm doing, have done, and will do. Our newest addition will be here in the next 2-3 weeks and I would like the transition to be as smooth as possible. Good Luck!

Not too long ago, I had a random dream where I was waiting on the bus stop. Someone walked up next to me and said, "Do you mind if I smoke?" That was weird because although I'm sure there's polite smokers here and there, out of the countless amount of smokers I've come across personally, I've never had anyone ask me that question in real life. Before I could say anything, I woke up.

The smell of cigarettes alone give me a headache long after I walk away from it. What makes it even worse is that I can smell it a mile away. I could also be driving, smell cigarettes, look over to my right, and see a person in their car in the next lane, smoking a cigarette; even after the fact that both my and their windows are rolled up. There's practically no way around it when you're out in the public. I sometimes wonder why I'm sucked into this cloud of smoke against my will, but then I instantly remember why:

All the smokers that I've ever come across in my life, whether a loved one or a complete stranger, were selfish. Selfish in the sense that supporting their addiction was far more important than the health of the people who surrounded them, even if those people were the ones who should have mattered to them the most. It kind of sucks to say this, but their actions beat me to the punch anyway. Many of them knew the consequences of first and second hand smoke, they were just either too addicted to care, or wanted to be in denial so that they wouldn't have to face their guilt.

How I Grew to HATE Cigarettes: When I was a little girl, I can recall running an errand with my best friends, two of my best friend's siblings, and her grandmother, who was a smoker. I can recall her smoking with the windows rolled up and I desperately wanted a breath of fresh air. (Or, at least, a breath of the small percentage of clean air that this planet has left.) I wanted to roll down the windows, but I didn't want to be rude, so I just sat there in the car during our thirty minute errand engulfing all the smoke that my best friend's grandmother would continuously let out as I got dizzy out of my mind.

I didn't realize how serious cigarette addiction was until one of my uncles was diagnosed with lung cancer. The last time I saw him, he had less than a year to live. He was standing on my church's porch, smoking. I remember saying, "You know, you shouldn't be smoking…especially if you have lung cancer."

He replied, "Well, I'm already dying so I might as well go out with a bang." He puffed and I laughed. That was the last thing he ever said to me.

I have a cousin who has cystic fibrosis. Two family reunions ago, there were people smoking around her. I instantly thought, "They shouldn't be smoking around her." About thirty minutes later, she had a breathing episode and I wouldn't be surprised if all the smoking ignited it.

As I was taking my daughter to her doctor's appointment, I saw a mother who was to deliver at any moment, IV and all. She came outside to get a cigarette break. There was a man with her (who I'm assuming was her lover), who lit the cigarette for her so that she could puff away. I could only shake my head in disgust and pray that her baby was brought into the world without any defects. And if it's not the pregnant mothers who are smoking, it's others smoking around pregnant mothers.

What sickens me just as much were the nurses who smoked outside the cancer patient building. I wondered if they were taught that even after they put the cigarette out, the ashes from the cigarettes stay behind on their clothes, causing anyone they lean over or get close in contact with (their patients), to breathe in the harmful toxins that linger. Breathing in toxins from cigarettes can be the equivalent of sandpaper rubbing against your lungs.

I have also gotten in a few health debates with smokers, since they so carelessly loved to smoke around me. The ones who humored me the most were the, "My [insert relative here] smoked for 65 years and they're doing just fine!" smokers. Meanwhile, their own personal health wasn't too great and there's a countless amount of cases were other smokers WEREN'T doing just fine. Albert Whittamore of London, who had his funeral on March 2nd, 2010, ordered to have a sign that said, "Smoking killed me" on both his grave and hearse to warn young people. Smoking was responsible for giving him emphysema, which eventually took his life.

They run the town: They never cared about me or anyone else. Despite their pulling everyone down with them, they never felt obligated to look after anyone. When you try to avoid them, they find a way to get near you with the annoying cloud of smoke. Another great example of what I mean? Tarc stops. Tarc stops are horrible. Before I started driving a car, I would take tiresome walks to the bus stop, sometimes in the hot sun, so you can imagine how relieved I am when I sit on the sheltered tarc bench waiting for the bus. More often than not, a random person will walk up, sit on the bench next to me and smoke. Now they're making me smell just as bad as they do. What would I do? I would get up and stand on the opposite side. Then eventually, someone comes in that area to smoke and I had no other place to go. It was like trying to dodge a bullet. Here I am compromising my health (including possibly my overall lifespan) and comfort so that they can be comfortable. Lets not get started on college campuses. Students loved to smoke right in front of the doorway. I guess they wanted to give me special effects as I walked into the building?

The smoking sections at restaurants? Despite there being tons of empty tables far away from the non-smoking section, guess where some smokers chose to sit? You guessed it. As close to the non-smoking section as possible, sending the nasty cloud of all that horribleness towards smoker-free adults and children trying to enjoy a meal.

They have a right to do this, but no one is allowed to speak or take action against it. When Memorial Hospital in Tennessee announced that they were going to ban hiring nurses who smoked back in January of 2010, it caused a huge uproar because it should be their personal right to smoke and possibly take longer breaks to support their habit (as studies showed that many of them do) and then expose their patients to the unseen remnants of ash. However, no one's allowed to have a right to not be exposed to it when they're most vulnerable, speak against it, or take action to protect vulnerable patients.

Why is looking in the best interest of the smoker more crucial at times? Well, smoking is an addictive drug and since its perfectly legal, many people openly do it; presidents, doctors, nurses, lawyers, LAW-MAKERS…

Hygiene issues: Those who couldn't go two hours without puffing tended to smell horrible. I'm sorry, but they did. Not a scent in the world could cover it up, even though some desperately tried to. At least teenage girls back in high school tried. You know those girls who asked the teachers if they could go to the restroom to pee when they were really going for a cigarette break? When they returned, they reeked of cigarette smoke that they desperately tried to extinguish with body spray from Bath & Body Works, as if no one would notice. Looked like Bath & Body Works came out with a new scent. Must have been called Berry Newports or something like that. If you can find a smoker who doesn't reek of smelly cigarettes, forgive me and point them out so that I can pay you a million dollars.

Also, when they smoked around me, they made me smell just as bad as they did. I'd walk out of the house smelling like fresh Dove soap and come back smelling like ash in less than two hours later. It's almost as if I were smoking right along with them. I might as well have been because second hand smoking is far worse, as I was breathing in most of what they rudely blew out in my direction.

Even the things they own often smelled bad, as they smoked in every place possible. Everything from the furniture they own to the gifts that they give.

Everyone has the right to breathe clean air: I used to be afraid to ask people not to light up around me because I felt that it would be rude. However, it's far more rude when smokers expose others to the toxins they let out, simply because they need to find a way to calm their nerves. Everyone should have a right to breathe smoke-free air.

I'm all for banning smoking cigarettes in public. Yes, I said it. Why not ban it, when smoking weed is illegal for most Americans? If most smokers aren't going to look out for me when they come around, it's best that I look out for myself. Maybe this article is a bit harsh, but I'd rather have someone disagree with something I said, rather than having someone endanger my health. Sorry.

If that dream didn't end so short, I would have told that guy, "Yeah, I mind!"

I know you haven't heard from me in a while. It had to be at least four months that I was silent, right? After a bunch life's of beatings, I had my internet disconnected, so I couldn't blog much. I'm still without internet connection in my apartment, but now I'm using the one at the library because I'm afraid if I stop blogging, I may stop breathing.

I guess you can say I "relapsed" again; far more than I did when I was writing regularly. (I almost forgot what got me into writing this diary in the first place.) I cut myself so much that I'm surprised I have any blood left; I just want to be finished with it already. (Or at least that's how the evil voice in my head feels.) Anyway, I'll get right to the update because the library is going to close in ten minutes.

Simply put: my life has hit rock bottom and if it ain't rock bottom, I'm darn near close. One day, as I was leaving work, I heard some co-workers talking about how 300 people were going to get laid off the company that we work for, including ten people from our unit. Although I wanted to know more, I brushed it off and tried not to think about it. A week later, me, along with nine of the workers in my unit, were called into the office. They had refreshments laid out and the boss's eyes were red like she had been crying. I already knew what was up.

"You have a month to find another job," she said.

Well, a month has passed. I never found a job and I'm unemployed. I sacrificed my cell phone (which was easy to do since I rarely spoke on it), cable, and my internet connection (although I haven't found the strength to sale them off yet). I even cut out some foods from my diet so that I wouldn't buy much from the grocery store. No more pork, red meat, juice, cookies, or candy.

My co-worker turned best friend, Brittany, was one of the "lucky" ten, as she was laid off as well. I've grown attached to her like a sister, and her kids were starting to become my kids. However, our relationship was cut short as she picked up and moved to a small town in Georgia to live with her aunt in order to save up more money. That was a hard blow on an already exposed wound.

Now, here I am at the library sitting near some guy wearing red sweat pants and a dirty brown hole-graced shirt who smells of whiskey, urine and pickles, arguing with some unseen entity who stole $5 from him. Oh, snap. Now he's yelling at me. I was just about to get up and move to another computer until the security guard came in and saved the day.

I guess this adds onto the craziness I went through earlier: on my way into the library, some hood rat, out and about with her friends, complimented on my shoes. I replied, "Thank you, so are yours," but I guess she didn't hear me because she copped an attitude:

"Rude much? Ugh…siddity heifer. You might want to go get your ends touched up before you start acting all brand new…"

Now keep in mind that I'm currently unemployed, I apply for jobs everyday and none ever calls back, I risk losing my apartment in the near future, I have no friends, I have no one to love me, and I'm about to snap. I was slightly heated with a little adrenaline rush, and not even the wind blowing against me softly could help me keep my cool and ignore this woman.

I replied to her calmly, "I'm actually transitioning into something you're mentally not, thank you." She didn't hear me though. People always told me that I needed to talk louder when I spoke.

A rapper, by the name of Wale, came out with a new music video called Pretty Girls. The video is causing quite a stir because 99% of the women in the video aren't black. (Haven't rappers been doing this for a decade now anyway?) Honestly, I'm unmoved by the video (although I only watched for a few seconds).   I'm more moved over the fact that many black women are hurt by hip hop videos in general, for not being included. These are grown men who are going to do whatever they want. They obviously could care less about a black woman's feelings. Why waste energy by being mad at them?  While I won't focus on the particular video in this post, I will focus on many of the videos from both the past and present.

The first time I noticed that the poster image of the video vixen was slightly changing, was back in 1999 when Jay Z came out with his Big Pippin' video. (Of course, I was only fifteen years old and really had no business watching that video in the first place.) However, I will admit that back when I was insecure, it made me think, "Where are all the black chicks?" As always, black women have been involved from the start. Then as soon as the rap world evolves and really blows up, they were like, "Deuces, black women."

Thank God because I was sick and tired of black women being the poster child of the degrading lyrics in most of those rap songs. I'm still trying to figure out why some of us are losing sleep over these videos simply because we can't find a woman of our "image," half dressed and gyrating all over some rapper who could give two shits about us. Shouldn't we be happy that most of us aren't? Shouldn't we want better for ourselves? (Sadly, despite most black women being eliminated from this equation, I still feel for all of the mixed and non-black sisters that are still associated with this mess.)

Also, when something like this happens in a predominately black niche on a large scale, you have to question why it happens. We never really loved ourselves as a whole, even though we loved to put on a front as we did. Despite us not liking the results we see, many of us are too busy swimming in denial to do anything to help change it for future generations.

I'm still hearing black comedians and non-comedians joking bout how someone's too dark, or too nappy, and we laugh along in agreeance and try to do whatever we can to be the complete opposite. We've constantly changed our unique beauty to fit into an ideal image (that's common amongst many non-blacks naturally).  Please don't start preaching the 'not all blacks have stereotypical black features' because that's beside the point.   I know some of us want to say, "Well I alter my appearance dramatically in a way that's similar to the standard beauty, but I'm not doing it to look like someone else." Sure, some of us aren't, but we're still doing it and others will take it another way, including other black men and women alike.  When these type of actions are coupled with an already racist society, the end result will be that some people are going to flock towards those who fit the ideal image naturally, and that's what happened in this case.

Look…loving yourself starts with you and you only. It shouldn't take a classless rap video for a woman to know that they're "pretty." It shouldn't take a rap video to let you know that you're worth something. (These rap videos make women look like they're not worth much of anything anyway.) When are we going to evolve beyond this mess? All the blogs and articles whining about how some men don't want us, without looking for resolutions, are getting kind of tired, as it's a wheel that turns in the same spot over and over.

It's time for us to stop looking to other people (no matter what the race), to justify our worth. If anytime complete strangers (rappers) make us feel like we don't mean anything, we need to look inside ourselves and find out why they're having such a huge impact on our mental.

To women who take offense to this video; don't take it to heart. There's more to life than being a "video vixen" wearing little to no clothing…especially when their looks are going to die out on them within the next five to ten years. Stick to getting your degrees, starting your own businesses, and advancing in your careers.  Here's some beautiful pictures of naturally pretty girls:

Yes, I'm fully aware of how we need more positive images of black women in the media.  I especially feel that we need more black women showcased in their natural image to help promote self-love a little bit more (that's what Afro Glitz is for).  However, it's not going to be in trashy videos like these.

What kills me is the ignorance of some people, after you have told them that you're keeping it a surprise. Some people act as if there's something wrong with us. Like how could we possibly shop for the baby? Or, why wouldn’t we want to know? Or, "Say again?"

The answers to these questions are really quite simple and all it takes is a little common sense to figure out the answer. I hate to come down hard on some people, but you have to put yourself in the parent’s position when you turn and look at them sideways and roll your eyes; or when you tell them that you should wait to have the shower until after the baby is born, so that people can shop appropriately. Are you serious? What do you think a registry is for? I mean, why is it stressful or annoying to anyone, who's not having the child because of what we decide to do?

Anyway, keeping the baby's gender a surprise is really simple to do. I've written down a few tips as to how it can be done while keeping your sanity:

1. First and foremost, I think you and your partner should agree on keeping it a surprise. It would be very hard for one to know without the other finding out somehow.
2. Ask the nurses and the doctors to make a note on your chart and in the computer that you do not want to know the gender, so that there's no slip-ups.
3. When shopping for a theme for the room, choose something neutral. For example:
   
   a. Winnie the Pooh
   b. Baby Looney Toons
   c. Jungle Babies
   d. Alphabets
   e. Baby Einstein
   f. African Dreams
4. When shopping for clothes, keep it neutral: whites, yellows, greens, oranges, creams, and tans.
5. 5. When painting the rooms, pick something that matches the theme.
6. 6. Pick out one or two names male and female or unisex.

That's basically it. I think after being pregnant for almost ten months, something should be a surprise. You know you're having a baby, but there's nothing like finding out the sex of the baby when it comes out. It's such an exhilarating and exciting feeling to hear the doctor say, "It’s a _____!"

I can tell you that our families were a little annoyed when we didn’t find out the first time around, but understood this time, once they saw how we were able to do everything as far as shopping and planning for the baby normally. My son’s theme was Winnie the Pooh and we painted his room green. The name was either going to be Dasir or Dasia.

This time around, the theme is Jungle Babies and we painted the room yellow and the name is going to be either Dasia or Desai. It can be a lot of fun not knowing the sex while having people constantly guess or bet on it. But a baby is a baby, whether it’s a boy or girl, so who cares about finding out ahead of time if the baby is going to be loved unconditionally?

• Sisterlocks is trademarked method and name, originally developed by Dr. Jo-Anne Cornwell.

• Sisterlocks, even in their largest size are extremely small in comparison to traditional locs.

• Sisterlocks can be started on both relaxed and natural hair, and is a particularly popular method for locking relaxed hair. The hair should be at least 3 inches or longer.

• Sisterlocks should be started and maintained by a trained, certified “Sisterlock consultant”, or a trainee. The installation can take anywhere from 10 hours to a few days. This depends on hair density, length, and skill of the consultant. I cannot explain specifically how the technique works, because of the trademark.However Sisterlock wears say that it is similar to interlocking.

• Sisterlocks generally range from 300-1000+ dollars in price depending on hair length, and the consultant. Often you can get a better deal by using a trainee. The new locs should be maintained every 4-6 weeks by a consultant or a re-tightening training class can be taken, so one can maintain them on their own.

• Sisterlocks also have their own line of products, but a wearer is not limited to them.

• Sisterlocks are marketed toward those who want micro-sized locs, which can be styled like relaxed hair, and have the appearance of relaxed hair.

This is just a brief overview of the Sisterlocks method, for those interested; I suggest visiting www.sisterlocks.com/ and checking out www.youtube.com for Sisterlock vloggers.

Regardless of how one begins their locs, or whether or not they have some brand name associated with them, locs are shed hair that has been allowed to tangle and mat together. The method makes no difference other than in aesthetics. What matters is the attitude of the wearer, and this is where controversy comes in with various loc methods, particularly Sisterlocks. Sisterlocks are marketed as an alternative to both relaxed hair and to traditional locs.

I have seen many consultants around the web, that present Sisterlocks as a way to have “nice” locs, and Sisterlock forums where members are very strict about maintaining the sanctity of Sisterlocks, and are not very friendly with those who have less than a certain number of locs. Or those who do not use the product line. Perhaps, the biggest gripe traditional loc wearers seem to have is that some Sisterlock wearers, claim that Sisterlocks are not dreadlocks, and don't want them to be associated with dreadlocks. I'm happy to repeat myself when I say a loc is a loc is a loc. It does not matter whether someone spent twelve plus hours and hundreds of dollars to get them done, its a loc, just like the person who spent sixty dollars and two hours to get them done, or went the DIY route.

It has also been suggested that Sisterlocks are more acceptable as compared to traditional locs because of their appearance and the fact that they mimic relaxed hair very well. Conversely, traditional locs are much more acceptable in the society and in the work place these days, than they were previously. Frankly, I could spend another few paragraphs explaining every single problem that some traditional loc wearers have with some Sisterlock wearers, however my effort would be fruitless.

What has been deemed controversy between Sisterlocks and traditional locs is really does not have to made into such a dispute. It seems that people cannot enjoy anything without trying to create some division within it. If a person has the money to spend and wants Sisterlocks, then it is their prerogative to obtain them, regardless of their motive, regardless of whether or not they started with relaxed hair, regardless of whether or not they think Sisterlocks are somehow better than traditional locs.

I have seen many threads in the hair forums start with a simple question about Sisterlocks and turn into page and pages of arguing. While some Sisterlocks wearers might subscribe to believing they are better than other locs, how are they any different from a natural thinking they are better than a perm wearer? Also, there are plenty of traditional loc wearers with their own issues. There are those who believe that their locs are more "real" because they started with no product, or they started with a loctitcian or a tool, or free-formed.

There will always be those people who have to believe they are somehow better than another person who is doing the same thing, and this pertains to all areas of life, not just locs. So, if you are a hair board user, particularly a locked user, next time you end an argument with a Sisterlocks wearer with the famous, “to each their own” line, mean it! If you are a traditional loc wearer, put yourself in their shoes.  Imagine how you would feel if you were berated for your loc choices. I'm not insinuating that you should not correct someone if they attack your loc choices, or imply that their locs are somehow better than yours. However, I am saying that you should do your best not to be that person.

Disclaimer: This article was not meant to degrade Sisterlocks or Traditional locs, and is based purely on self-observation.

Some may wonder what makes for a good femcee, as she is most notably nicknamed. To me a good femcee has a combination of lyrics, swagger, and a hot flow. She can be rough, but still have that feminine quality about her that sets her apart from any man. In my opinion some of the illest females to ever grace the mic include Jean Grae, Bahamadia, Shawnna, Lauryn Hill, and Rah Digga. There are many more on my list, from new to old school, from underground to mainstream but these ladies stick out mainly for their original approach to the game. When you hear any of these ladies on the track, you know exactly who you are listening to and will not be disappointed with the outcome.

Now I know many may wonder about Lil Kim, Foxy Brown, Trina, or even newcomer Nicki Minaj, who have been some of the most notable female rappers in mainstream Hip-Hop. However, my only problem with these females or any emcees in general, is people who don’t write their own material. Ghost writing is most definitely apart of Hip-Hop, some male rappers have them but it is more prominent as well as accepted amongst females in the game. To me, you can’t be considered one of the best if you have had someone else writing for you. You are no longer original, but rather a parakeet that merely mimics what it hears.

Other than this obviously being a male dominated society, I wondered if the reason why females are often overlooked in Hip-Hop can be directly correlated with the misogyny within some of these rap videos. Can you really take a woman who wants to rap seriously when on any given video; you see another woman used as a video prop merely shaking her booty in the camera?

I must admit that may make it a little more difficult to take women seriously. Another big problem is the fact that a lot of these female rappers are using, “Sex as a Weapon.” It’s true that we are of a generation where sex sells and most of the female rappers today are definitely using that to their advantage. There’s nothing wrong with rapping about sex, my only problem is that if you’re going to rap about sex have some variety as well. So where does that leave those females who are conscious rappers? They are often shunned, overlooked, and never given their proper credit.

I’d like to think that one day, we’d get to a point in Hip-Hop where females can be looked at as much more than video props and sexual objects because the fact remains that some of the greatest Hip-Hop artists of all time have indeed been women. It is up to us as women and lovers of Hip-Hop to be seen as more, and demand that respect. It starts with you. We all love the occasional “raunchy” track, but to have this be all that the females in Hip-Hop represents is terrible when there are so many very talented women in the game. From femcee to video chick or even just a fan of this beautiful art form, we have to support the femcee movement and show that it’s more than just a bunch of females showing their assets. We are Hip-Hop too!