There’s a time when a few of us adore superheroes such as: Superman, Batman, Wolverine, just name a few. They become icons that we live through vicariously. Some say heroes are childish, but there are cults of hero worshipers that would disagree with you. As a snotty nose kid, I had heroes that I looked up to. These were not fictional characters who wore capes or tights with razor-sharp blades that released on command. These were Hip-Hop notables, basketball players, teachers, and movie characters. One of my heroes is Jay-Z.
Yes, everyone knows who he and Beyonce is. However, only a few can comprehend the impact he had on a ghetto-kid’s hopes and dreams. No one can fathom the aspiration he gave ghetto-kids to be business men with who flaunted their ghetto essence around corporate America. The masses can’t digest how he and Beyonce were two of the first positive 21st-century couples that showed the importance of respect in a black relationship.
In my naive pupils, this man was a god. He was the black man at his greatest potential; He still is to many people today. The world has never seen a rapper who could rap as grimy as he could while strutting down the red carpet dressed like a CEO. Once news was released about him buying into companies and owning property, his reputation was solidified. He became the standard of what it meant for a poor, young black boy to escape the grips of the ghetto and achieve the ranks of stardom.
He showed me at a young age that I could own a business; I could wear suit; I could smoke a cigar on a yacht that was purchased in cold-hard cash. He showed me that I could be successful. He was indeed, my hero.