"What L. Beabout" by Camille Jackson
(New Haven Advocate, 2000)
L. Beabout has worked at five different coffee shops since coming to
New Haven three years ago. She rattles them off effortlessly --
Marjolaine, Au Bon Pain, Dunkin Donuts, Goldberg's New York Bagels and
the Book Trader Café. One thing's for sure, she says -- there's no fame
in slinging coffee and doughnuts.
"You can keep the fame. I'm not your novelty," rhymes L,
rapper, poet, MC and female who's inspired by De La Soul. At 22 years
old, she can also rattle off verse after verse of knowledge about being
poor, being a girl among fellas and the failure of democracy. These
days, she's preoccupied with the digital divide that is leaving so many
folks in the dust. "If we all had the right equipment, we'd all have
record deals."
When I first met her, she'd just finished up a cipher at a
space on Howe Street and the adrenaline was coursing through her veins.
This petite white girl dressed in B-boy gear dropped a verse, then
mixed it up and sang like Lauryn Hill. She stood out. Afterward, I told
her how good I thought she was and she said, "Oh, it's not me. It's God
really."
Later, in her Fair Haven apartment, she speaks about that
again. "I'm driven by a higher force. It's not just ego and it's not
just about the thrill," she says. "I like to feel out the vibe in a
crowd. Kind of like a preacher in a church, God put a beat on my heart.
I don't get nervous anymore [when freestyling]. I know what I want to
say."
She's finished a four-song demo called Fast Food Fame
with her Brooklyn partner, Oscar. Together they are Battlestar -- a
trip-hop, drum 'n' bass sound with socially conscious lyrics. L. has a
higher mission as far as hip-hop is concerned. She sees it as a way to
unite, organize, network, even barter.
"We might as well work with what we have," she says. Adding that "learning is unlearning."
That's exactly what she's doing. She currently works in the
Essentials of Literacy program at Hill Central School, teaching
bilingual third-graders how to construct metaphors. While in her
apartment, I learn she's a visual artist as well, making colorful
collages from found objects and drawing places she's been, things she's
seen.
Spinning around in her computer chair, L says that women bring
a whole other perspective to hip-hop. Women, she says, are more
centered and intuitive about performing and delivering a message. But
men still dominate in the hip-hop arena. She's not about being a female
sidekick because this chick can hold her own.
"Women can definitely use their seductive power and still be
inaccessible. Men are scattered. For men, if you sound nice and have
the right mannerisms," it's easier to get noticed. L is still
discovering the stage power of being female and admits she was in
denial about her femininity for a long time. "I didn't want my rhymes
to draw attention to the fact that I'm a female." Check the message
instead.
February 2002 issue