Hamilton: More Than I Bargained For
In order for this next article to make sense I need to get two things off my chest. (Sorry in advance mom.)
Confession #1: In high school I would have my friends burn me copies of rap CD's so I could sneak them into my house disguised as mixtapes. I would stay up late most nights and listen, ear pressed to the speaker, with the volume on my boombox as low as I thought was safe. This was the way that I discovered artists like Kanye, Jay-Z, and Outkast and developed a passion for rap music. Since those days hip hop has been my favorite musical genre. I've used it to travel backwards in time and understand the state of the world in decades past. Its been something that I studied with every waking moment, musically and sociologically. I've spent countless nights alone listening to beats, memorizing lines from my favorites MC's, and falling in love with the poetry and story telling that the best of the genre has to offer.
Confession #2: I've dealt with self-esteem and self-image issues my entire life. It's something I've always struggled with and probably always will. As someone with mixed-race heritage I've never truly felt like I belonged to any one social group. It's hard not to feel self conscious when, in some settings, I'm one of the darkest people in a room. Yet, there are other times where I don't feel like enough of a minority to relate to those who feel victimized or disenfranchised.
Over the Summer I headed north for what would be one of the most exciting experiences of my life. It was my wife's first trip to News York City, so there was much to enjoy. Food to eat, sites to see, and old friends to catch up with. Yet, Hamilton was the focus of the trip. The spellbinding musical was at the peak of it's power and New York was buzzing with discussions centering on the show. So, on the evening of June 9th, Kaitlyn and I joined others in shuffling into the Richard Rogers Theater to witness the magic. And just like the world, I will never be the same after having experienced it.
Months earlier, I convinced myself to pull the trigger and buy tickets to Hamilton: An American Musical. I had first fallen in love with Hamilton several months prior based on the recommendation of a friend. He believed this new musical creation, which utilized rap and hip hop to tell the story of founding father Alexander Hamilton, would be right up my alley. He couldn't have been more right. Listening to the language of my favorite musical genre tell the story of the old, white men who created our country blew my mind. The technical skill displayed in the rapping and the scope of the story being told was something that had simply never been done before, on or off Broadway. I was instantly in love and knew I had to go to New York to experience it first hand.
Around the same time that I was introduced to the Hamilton soundtrack I began to partner with an organization that works to provide positive relationships to at-risk or gang affiliated youth in Houston. Over coffee one of the leaders of this organization, a mentor of mine, told me a story I will never forget. A graduate of the program, a Hispanic young man who had escaped so much and had such potential, had recently committed suicide. Years earlier he had asked my mentor, "Who do us Mexican kids have to look up to? Who shows us how to do it right?". It seems he never found an answer to the question.
When you grow up as a minority, it's hard not to notice that most of the famous, creative minds in America don't look like you. It's not an oblique form of racism but it's always there, a cloud waiting to rain on you if you acknowledge that it exists. That's what has always made rap music so special. It's a form of music where a person of color can AT LEAST feel welcomed...comfortable...sheltered from the rain. So, as Hamilton opened that night on Broadway I was fully expecting to be blown away by the music of the show. Entertained in a way that only a transcendent musical can achieve.
What I wasn't expecting though, was for a lifetime of memories and feelings to explode in my mind like fireworks lighting up the theater. As I watched the stage fill with the diverse cast, I couldn't help but be overcome by emotions. My mind raced to that young man in Houston, who had taken his own life only a few months prior. What would he have thought if he had seen men and women who look just like him owning a Broadway stage? Would he have felt empowered to push forward just one more day? Had anyone ever made him believe he could achieve his dreams in the way this show could have? I thought of every time I felt like I didn't belong and how, in that moment, I couldn't think of anywhere I had ever belonged more.
By the end of the show I knew I had experienced something akin to a miracle. There are moments in life when you know you've witnessed a creation that will forever shape the world. There are experiences in life that change you, after which you know you'll never be the same. Those moments are rare and should be cherished. This was one for me. "Who do Mexican kids have to look up to? Who shows us how to do it right?". I think about those questions every day now. Almost every hour. My prayer is that one day I can be an example and answer those questions for a young man or woman. In the meantime, I thank God that Hamilton and it's creator, Lin-Manuel Miranda, exist. Because they are the best answer I've ever seen.