It was personal and painful.
Nothing “too Hollywood” about it.
The homegoing services for Kirshnik Khari Ball, known as Takeoff to the world, was elegant.
As elegant as a punch to the gut can be.
This didn’t have to happen. In a fair and just world, it shouldn’t happen.
Credit: Provided to The Atlanta Journal-Consitution
Credit: Provided to The Atlanta Journal-Consitution
So said his cousin and Migos bandmate Offset, as he prayed and apologized and crumpled into a curl of grief.
So said his uncle and other Migos bandmate Quavo, who stood bewildered and broken struggling to find the lesson in this loss.
So said Takeoff’s mother and friend and fellow rapper Drake and music mogul Kevin “Coach K” Lee and Atlanta Mayor Andre Dickens and others who stated the obvious.
This shouldn’t happen.
Credit: Provided to The Atlanta Journal-Consitution
Credit: Provided to The Atlanta Journal-Consitution
Yet, here we are.
Takeoff’s death was a completely avoidable loss. And here’s what I learned about Takeoff at the funeral: We lost a young man who, according to those who knew him best, is responsible for putting together one of the most successful rap groups in music history and giving it its signature sound. As the group toured the world, got rich and enjoyed the spoils of celebrity, he kept Migos grounded and focused.
Then on Nov. 1 a dice game happened in Houston. And guns happened. And because the wrong people are armed and because nobody backs down and everybody is on war footing, a 28-year-old son and big brother and a pillar of Atlanta’s dominant music machine is dead. The man who was both the brains and the protected baby of Migos is dead.
No, this didn’t have to happen. In a sane world, it wouldn’t happen.
But it did. And it keeps happening. Here in Atlanta. In Houston. In Memphis, in Chicago, in Los Angeles. In Miami, in New Orleans, in D.C. — it keeps happening. And here we are. Again. Mourning the loss of talent, potential and what should have been.
So what now?
I went to Takeoff’s funeral hoping to get some insight into how Atlanta — the capital of Black America — can set itself apart and confront this endless cycle of death and grief. We desperately need a plan. One that builds generational input and consensus. A plan that plots strategy and solutions. A plan that deploys the culture leaders in this city who influence the world. A plan that gets our schools, our churches, our law enforcement agencies and our communities coordinated. A plan that rallies behind this moment of loss and grief.
Atlanta owes it to Takeoff and the hundreds of other Takeoffs who are harmed and killed in this city. This loss is beyond calculation.
Mayor Dickens offered this in his funeral remarks: Atlanta “that influences everything” should become peace ambassadors.
That’s not a complete answer. I am sure the mayor did not intend it to be. For those gathered, though, it addresses something that must change in the hip-hop ethos.
Conflict is inevitable. It’s human. Deadly force, as a response, is a choice. An extreme choice. An irreversible choice. A choice that is offensive to the Beloved Community of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. A choice that causes community and generational trauma. Any solution must address why these young men don’t value themselves. Or each other. And why guns are a first response.
Any solution will also have to say out loud what the mayor did not. Some of those ambassadors Mayor Dickens is surely thinking of enlisting also happen to produce music that worships the power of the gun. Music that defines Black manhood through a lens of violence. We live in a “Love-and-Hip-Hop-WorldStar-Housewife” world. We sell Black confrontation, violence and dysfunction.
Perhaps art is imitating life. OK, fine. So let’s fix the life part. Let’s figure out how to give these young men better tools to navigate conflict and a heightened sense of belonging and self-worth. Let’s reject the notion that gun violence and the loss of life in Black communities are inevitable in America and, therefore, we are powerless.
We are not. Atlanta is not.
Atlanta might be better positioned than anywhere in America to lead this difficult, urgent conversation. We have the means: Atlanta is the chief exporter of Black culture on the planet. We have the talent. We have the credibility: Many of Atlanta’s leaders in business, government and education are the now middle-aged children of hip-hop. That helps to bridge the generational divide. The only thing missing is coordinated commitment.
The children who are dying are ours.
It’s time to get to work.
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