September 6, 2016 - 12:51
Over the summer I waited tables at an expensive pizza place. The restaurant was in the "up and coming" U Street Corridor, where I could literally see the gentrification as I walked the few blocks down 14th Street from the bus stop every day. Corner stores were tucked in between brand new high rise apartment buildings; the area that was once referred to as "Black Broadway" boasted a soulcycle and several new age-y yoga studios. Middle class white people sipped Bloody Marys and ate brunch where the 1968 race riots had broken out. And I was serving $20 artisanal pizza with prosciutto and Maryland blue crab on top. (A large crab pie was just under $50 and served 2-4 people.)
Part of the restaurant's branding was the music: we only played Hip Hop. And every day someone asked us to turn down the music. About 90% of the time, these complaints came from white customers, and the implication was always the same - not this music is too loud but this music is inappropriate. We always played the clean versions of songs, which most of the time you couldn't hear over the noise of the crowd anyway. Several patrons told us they liked the food but wouldn't consider coming back because of the music. One evening, a customer pulled aside Aaron (one of the few other white employees) and told him that "this isn't our music."
Whose music was he referring to? Because the music of the city where I live is Go-Go and Hip Hop. Go-Go was invented here - the entire city mourned when we lost Chuck Brown a few years ago. This city is 35% white as of 2010, and 51% black. It seems like an awful lot of white entitlement to waltz into a neighborhood whose culture you're destroying and announce that their music isn't good enough for you.