(The Root) — Two generations of Americans might recall, as vividly as yesterday, the waking radio chatter and day-breaking TV news reports of March 9, 1997, the morning the Notorious B.I.G. was shot and killed in Los Angeles.
Surely Brooklyn, N.Y., remembers.
Sixteen years after his death, Christopher Wallace occupies a larger-than-life prominence in the American pop psyche, in hop-hop and in the very identity of Brooklyn. A graffiti of memory. A rapper who was at once a storyteller with a mythology all his own. Recorded before his untimely demise, the Notorious B.I.G.’s two studio LPs — Ready to Die (1994) and Life After Death (1997) — are a mythology of Brooklyn, a culmination of fame and an unparalleled crimescape of the Rudy Giuliani era.
Hoping to cement Biggie’s cultural importance, Brooklyn native LeRoy McCarthy launched a Change.org petition in August to honor the fallen Wallace by christening the intersection of St. James Place and Fulton Street — at the foot of Biggie’s childhood stoop in Clinton Hill — as Christopher Wallace Way. But a few Brooklyn Community Board No. 2 members have challenged that initiative, saying that a reformed crack dealer and hardcore rap artist is an unsuitable role model for the kids of Clinton Hill. From some cursory Googling, committee member Lucy Koteen found this information:
[Christopher Wallace] started selling drugs at 12, he was a school dropout at 17, he was arrested for drugs and weapons charge, he was arrested for parole violations, he was arrested in North Carolina for crack cocaine, in 1996 he was again arrested for assault, he had a violent death and physically the man is not exactly a role model for youth.
I don’t see how this guy was a role model and frankly it offends me.
I wonder, then, short of perfection, what constitutes a proper role model? What’s respectability made of, exactly?
America is no stranger to commemoration of heroes and geniuses who notoriously faltered. Just last week, the nation celebrated the founding venture of a man, Christopher Columbus, who pillaged foreign soil, violently subdued its native tribes and made concubines of its women and children. But rather than hoisting Columbus as a chauvinist avatar of American destiny, NPR’s Lakshmi Gandhi noted that Columbus Day was the fruit of a late-19th century campaign by Italian Americans — a severely marginalized minority at the time — to secure respectable incorporate into American identity.
Because Italian Americans were struggling against religious and ethnic discrimination in the United States, many in the community saw celebrating the life and accomplishments of Columbus as a way for Italian Americans to be accepted by the mainstream. As historian Christopher J. Kauffman once wrote, “Italian Americans grounded legitimacy in a pluralistic society by focusing on the Genoese explorer as a central figure in their sense of peoplehood.”