Once in a while you’ll see someone around campus wearing a shirt that says “J Dilla Changed My Life.” That person is paying tribute to one of the most well-liked and talented music producers in hip-hop history. You’ll see them around here more than other college campuses because J Dilla was born and raised in Detroit. He grew up in and around the underground hip-hop scene, working with a number of different local artists. He gained a significant amount of his notoriety as a member of Detroit’s Slum Village, a group that, despite its top quality production and lyricism, never gained equal fame as other local collections like The Roots. Unfortunately, J Dilla passed away at the early age of 32. He was struggling with illness for the last few years of his life, but managed to continue producing music almost immediately up to the day of his death.

J Dilla was a producer, not a rapper. A producer is a musical artist who creates the beat or instrumental over which rappers or singers perform. Producing is also referred to as “sound engineering,” because often times the noises are technologically altered with all sorts of equipment. There are a wide multitude of programs and software that artists use to cultivate these sounds, and they are growing ever more popular. Moreover, being acknowledged for music producing is a relatively new concept, and today producers of famous hip-hop and pop songs are getting almost as much recognition as the singers or rappers. For instance, everyone knows that Hit-Boy produced the instrumental for Kendrick’s “Backseat Freestyle,” but did you know that it was actually J Dilla who produced Common’s “The Light” so many years ago?

To commemorate the long history of sound engineering in Detroit, the Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History will host an event next Friday, February 7^th called “Nothing Like This.” The title, the name of a J Dilla track, encapsulates Detroit’s longstanding contributions to the evolution of popular music in America. The event will include Panel Discussions showcasing some of Detroit’s prominent music engineers, workshops for participants to learn about music production, DJ’ing and graffiti, as well as an Open Mic Competition for local artists. The event promises to be a complete blend of educational opportunities, hands-on experiences and a chance to support other Detroit area poets, rappers and DJ’s. All of this will happen from 3pm-7pm at the museum. Check out the flyer here:

Also, check out this incredible mix of J Dilla beats. Some of them are matched with vocals as they were originally, and some have been mixed in with other a cappella tracks. But all of the smooth and rhythmic beats are Jay Dee’s.

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When I was in the 7th grade I knew a girl who loved to knit. She would knit all through recess and even through class when the teacher would allow it. One day, she taught me how to knit. Before long, the class was divided between the nifty knitters and those who frowned upon our seemingly geriatric skill. I was always a terrible knitter, probably because I never had the patience to finish a scarf or learn how to pearl (an alternative stitch). However, I watched this girl’s hobby blossom into an astonishing talent. Soon, she had made almost everyone in our class a custom hat of their choosing. At the time, I really loved cows so a white hat with black patches and soft pink ears was swiftly delivered to me upon my request. But this was basic for her, she continued on to make hats of more and more detail, creating three hats that almost identically matched the faces of three Invader Zim characters.

This creativity I will always admire and no matter how much downsizing I have to do I will never part with my cow hat because to me it stands for something much larger than a cow. It stands for the idea of perseverance and a type of talent that isn’t instinctive, but rather a result of practice and a love for your craft. My cow hat is a reminder to me that some day I could make a hat like that, too, or really anything I want if I put in the time and effort. Hobbies are far from useless. They are ways of showing yourself how much you are really capable of.

Despite my disloyalty to my inner crafty self by purchasing premade knitwear from the store, I love looking at the woven stitches and knowing that there are people in the world who can do so much better than that, people who put their whole heart and soul into making their own scarves, hats, clothes, music, you name it. One day I will stop making excuses and sit down with my knitting needles or my guitar or my sewing machine (the remnants of hobbies past) and make my vision a reality. It may not be soon, but the products of creativity that I see around me every day are proof enough that (brace yourself for a cliche) anything truly is possible. Until then, I’ll keep on with my favorite hobby of them all: writing.

Saturday evening I sang as a part of the University of Michigan choirs in the annual Collage Concert. For those of you who do not know what the Collage Concert is, it is a concert which contains performances from all programs within the School of Music, Theatre and Dance which moves seamlessly from one performance to the next without the interruption of applause. As a member of the 200 person choir I was stuck on the risers at the back of the stage for the entire act, and having heard all the performers at the dress rehearsal I allowed my mind to wander and the music to accompany my thoughts.

Standing there, I remembered reading an American Girl article when I was in middle school (yes, I will admit I religiously read those magazines) which said that luck did not exist; rather that luck is being ready when an opportunity presents itself. I remembered making a bucket list when I was in elementary school of all the places I wanted to sing in my life, a list which included Hill Auditorium. I remembered the devastation of being waitlisted for the music school at Michigan and the joy of the phone call which changed everything. I remembered a Friday afternoon in December 2010, where my peers discussed being accepted into the University of Michigan via Early Action but paying special attention to the fact that it was “just Michigan”.

I have never considered myself lucky because I have never considered anything which I have done or accomplished that extraordinary. Getting into Michigan seemed normal because all my friends before me had, landing a good internship as a sophomore seemed common because many of my friends did it as freshmen, singing at Hill felt standard because I had done it multiple times before. Yet, Saturday I felt lucky as I realized how extraordinary the opportunities I have had truly are.

For a type A who never slows down long enough to take a breath, this revelation only occurred because I was physically forced to stand still, not talk, and be “unproductive” for an hour. So my request to you is to do the same. Unplug. Ditch the phone, laptop, tablet, whatever it is that keeps you connected and take a moment to smell the roses, hear the music and realize how incredibly lucky you are to be living your life.

The Detroit Institute of Arts recently announced its plans to raise $100 million to ensure that its art will not be sold to cover Detroit’s bankruptcy debts. And just this very concept is troubling to me.

I’ve always had a problem with the idea of people taking ownership of art, even the artist. Art is not a concrete object but is also the emotion and thought that is elicited and provoked; art is an interaction. How in the world can that be quantifiable, let alone be used to leverage the bankruptcy that was the result of corrupt politics?

Ownership of something as intangible and immaterial as art is offensive, not only because of the privilege and resources required to acquire what society dictates are masterpieces, but also because of the masturbatory implications of wanting to own art. People who buy art put it on open display, to flex their financial muscle in front of their audience, and show their ability to exert dominance and power. It is a perverted act of self-pleasure, especially so because it is one that stems from the sole desire to own, possess, and dominate.

And the fact that such a beloved town has to now scramble for money in order to avoid this is devastating. Over and out.