Lil Wayne’s ‘No Worries’ Made Me Question Myself as a Dad To Black Daughters

By NICK CHILES

It was Lil Wayne’s song “No Worries” that did it— sent me hurtling down yet another slippery slope on the rollercoaster ride that is parenting.

A prominent part of the song is Wayne’s blushingly explicit tribute to abundant pubic hair. Every time it comes on the radio when my teenage daughter is in the car, I feel shame­—a reaction that took me by surprise.

The song triggers my fatherly protective instincts—the desire to shield my daughter from things that will do her harm. I feel shame and embarrassment that as a dad, my generation has allowed “No Worries” and all the songs like it to be presented to my daughter as acceptable entertainment, as lyrics that she should absorb into her brain as an appropriate way for a young man to talk to her and about her.

Of course, we have been accosted by unbelievably explicit and offensive rap lyrics for more than a decade. But the difference for me is that now I have to listen to them with my newly minted teenage daughter in the car, a 13-year-old who has a deep passion for hardcore hip hop.

Gone are the days when I could simply change the channel when something came on the radio that I deemed inappropriate. Out of ear shot; out of mind. Now she’s actively looking for this stuff to download onto her iPhone. There’s no escaping it. The age of innocence is over. We still have some time with her little sister, who at age 10 is (thankfully? painfully?) in love with Taylor Swift and wants nothing to do with the rap that blankets the black airwaves here in Atlanta. Not sure how long this embrace of Taylor will last, but at this point I much prefer Taylor Swift to Lil Wayne (something I didn’t think I’d ever hear myself say).

With the 13-year-old, a part of me wonders, “Am I failing her? Have we all failed her?” every time something like “No Worries” comes on the radio. Yes, her mother and I talk ad nauseam to her about the lyrics in these songs, how they exploit and degrade women, how she should in no way take them to heart. I think she understands that. But that doesn’t mean she’s not going to listen to it, download it, bounce to it.

And I get that. I was 13 once. In fact, when I was 13, I spent the summer in an upward bound program at a local college in Hoboken, NJ, hanging out with young teens from New York City who had started recording these fascinating rhyming songs on cassette tapes—rhyming songs I instantly recognized a year later when  “Rapper’s Delight” exploded onto the music scene and started my lifelong love affair with rap. But “Rapper’s Delight” ain’t the same as “No Worries.” They don’t even belong in the same part of the record store (Hold up, I’m trippin’—there’s no such thing as stores where you can go buy records!).

Even though a part of her understands the ridiculousness of the lyrics to songs like “No Worries,” I wonder if the psychic effect of years of listening to such songs will make her a little bit more open than she should be to some knucklehead walking up to her and saying something nasty and disrespectful, thinking he’s kicking game like Lil Wayne. I worry about whether she might have internalized even a tiny bit of Lil Wayne’s message—that her purpose in life is to bounce her butt in his face. I worry that when she and her friends are around some boys who are trying to recreate their own rap videos, will the girls immediately recognize the exploitation taking place—or will they turn around and drop it low?

And if the answer to any of these questions is “Yes,” then maybe I have failed her—and all the young women of her generation—by not speaking up more loudly when the music started to turn toward “No Worries.”

I know, pretty heavy stuff for a five-minute ride to school, right? I guess I should say “Thank you, black radio” for presenting me with these deep existential questions on a daily basis. Black radio, the gift that keeps on giving.

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3. Stilettos and 10-Year-olds: A Dad Says, “Aw, Hell To the Nah!”
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Denene Millner

Mom. NY Times bestselling author. Pop culture ninja. Unapologetic lover of shoes, bacon and babies. Nice with the verbs. Founder of the top black parenting website, MyBrownBaby.

9 Comments

  1. I’m having these panic attacks and I have given birth yet to my baby girl (my time will run out next month) Raising girls in our culture leaves parents in a constant state of anxiety. I think the best any of us can do is try to educate and cut through the filter as much as possible and pray some of it sinks in.

  2. Gone are the days we can HOPE, PRAY and WISH that girls shouldn’t display certain types of behavior. The statistics concerning STDS and young black women are alarming to say the least. We can rest assured that the girls who are saying, awww, I know, I’m not nasty like that. There is no THAT. there is no distinction. Men are no longer just going to strip clubs for entertainment, apparently they are finding their wives, mothers and future baby mamas in there too (no pun intended) so the question is not, what will you SAY, the question is WHAT WILL YOU DO?!!! End this SMUT,STRIP HOP and TRAP RAP now and for you sir, do not allow lil wayne in any shape form or fashion to enter your hope. As a black man use your most powerful weapon, your mind. Be creative of your methods when challenging this attack on your daughter because that is WHAT IT IS. and also download #bitchbad by LupeFIASCO. make her write the lyrics to that and to PussyMonster (another unnecessary piece of music) by lil wayne

  3. I’m a white European raising a brown baby with my British-Caribbean partner. This is a pain felt by many, I’m sure. Luckily our first is a boy, but although he will have a direct influence from a strong black man who respects all women and will set a shining example, I still worry that most of it is out of our hands now as parents. As you state, it’s no longer as simple as switching stations, this propaganda is on every airwave, on every magazine shelf, music video, TV show etc.

    The lack of censorship in commercial music has worried me for a long time. And though I grew up listening to Salt n Peppa, Lil’ Kim and Missy Elliott, at least it was balanced with common sense and hard thinking from the likes of KRS-One, Public Enemy and The Roots (I could go on). Today there is no antidote to the aural and visual poison in mainstream hip-hop/rnb and even the so-called “feminist” artists (eg Beyonce) still throw it around like cheap video hoes.

    One of my friends recently sent me a YouTube link to a female rapper’s song whose hook was, “Stick your finger in my b*tt and make this p***y nut”. Wow. I wonder what hope there is…

    God help us once the baby girls come. It’s a daily struggle. And this ain’t the only one… Thanks for sharing.

  4. It seems that men over a certain age (let’s say 30) have dropped completely off the village radar when it comes to guiding their children. We’ve become a culture where our boys and girls procreate way before they’re able to handle it, then they get to walk off the scene (via welfare or just sayin’ it ain’t mine) for 10 – 15 years, then reappear magically when the child has navigated the waters successfully and take all the credit. It’s a scene that gives birth to Lil Waynes and Lil Kims – cynical, hurting, and hurtful beings devoid of light.

  5. If your daughter listens to rap music, why do you have to have slang lessons with her?

    • Denene@MyBrownBaby

      Would you be proficient in French after listening to a song or two by Les Nubiens? Or German after listening to Jessye Norman sing Strauss lieder? What point, exactly, are you trying to make here?

  6. Keep talking to her. It’s going to sink in. We’ve all been there. Eventually the self love and self worth message that my mom and dad drilled into me rose above the garbage that was available (even in our youth). I have a son and I tell you I can not stand a lot of popular music. Doesn’t even have to be rap. It’s going to be a struggle, but I’m taking on everything where my child is concerned…even him if needed. Same struggle, just a different day. Great article!! I enjoyed it.

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