***Trigger Warning – contains potentially distressing material pertaining to sexual assault
Prince
I debated about mentioning Prince – a person I never personally knew. He never personally knew me either. However, I cannot talk about such a traumatic event of sexual assault in my life without thinking about him. He was with me all during that summer through his music. I was fortunate enough to discover his albums among a maze of albums that my aunt had stacked against her stereo.
The albums For You and Prince were the two top albums I played Every. Single. Day. During the summer that I spent with my aunt after I discovered his albums, his music echoed throughout the apartment and building whenever I was home alone when my aunt went off to work and school. The neighbor who lived above my aunt developed a liking to Prince’s music after hearing me play his music so much. She once asked me if I liked any other songs besides Prince songs before telling me to keep the volume down. I suppose you could say I was a Prince fan.
In fact, I played certain songs from both Prince albums so much that there were skips in the records. These skips within the records infuriated my aunt. So I had to develop unique ways of saving the albums from continuous scratches. I learned from the neighbor across the hall that rubbing alcohol could sometimes help with cleaning vinyl, but I would later learn that continuous use of rubbing alcohol would also lead to permanent damage of vinyl over time.
Whenever I made money for running errands for the neighbors a few times, my aunt made me replace an entire album because it was so scratched up. All of the songs on the self-entitled album Prince skipped so badly that the album itself was ruined for good. Eventually, my aunt hid both the albums and a few others I played continuously. I was also banned from listening to any records on the stereo. If I attempted to sneak to listen to the stereo, the neighbor above would simply tell my aunt that the stereo could be heard beneath her.
Talk about a withdrawal from Prince. It was that bad. I had not only learned every single song by heart, I had learned all of the rhythms and beats of each instrument played as well. I had also learned the inflections that Prince made as he sang. If there was no other fan in the world who listened to Prince at that time, I would have thought that I was surely his one and only fan.
Although Prince was not my first eye-crush, I did develop a crush on him when I saw him on television. I thought that he had the most beautiful and expressive eyes. His voice was beautiful to me as well. To be honest, I thought he was simply a beautiful person in general, and I was crushed when my aunt hid his records from me. I was forced to hear the songs play out in my head or chime along to his music if I happened to hear him played on somebody’s radio.
Some time after the sexual assault against me, my aunt gifted me with a Sony Walkman cassette player. Back then, having a Walkman was a big deal, and I was completely overjoyed especially when my aunt’s friend made me tapes of recorded Prince songs. I was actually made two tapes with one as a spare. If I could escape my troubles no way else, all I had to do was listen to Prince. I was the absolute happiest when I could hear Prince’s music. Although, I did like and listen to other artists, Prince was my absolute favorite. I always thought it would be so cool if I could actually see him in person.
Fortunately, I did get to see him … just not in person, but, seeing him, nonetheless, was good enough. Since I was an avid reader of my aunt’s television guides, I always knew what shows and the times that shows were airing. It just so happened that Prince would be appearing on American Bandstand on a Saturday morning at 11 a.m. To say I was excited was an understatement.
I planned my everything around that time frame, and although normally my aunt would not allow me to watch too much television, it had been the first time in a while that she had seen me excited with a smile on my face since before the assault. When Saturday finally arrived, the only obstacle happened about 20 minutes before the show. That obstacle was the neighbor’s child, my friend, from across the hall. She wanted me to play with her.
Of all the times to want to play, this girl conveniently chose that particular day and that particular time frame to come over. I had to make a decision. There was no other time that the show was going to air the episode with Prince again until much later in the year. I did not want to miss it, and even though I did not want to hurt my friend’s feelings, I figured she would understand if I tried to explain it to her.
My friend seemingly did not understand, but at the same time, I felt like she wanted to be a pain in my side. Oddly, though, I had a weird sensation come over me. Somewhere inside of me, for the first time, I experienced a moment within myself where I knew I was not the same child anymore. It is funny now when I think about it, but that is literally what came over me. I felt like I was much older than her because my interests were different. I did not want to play.
So I turned to my friend and said, “I don’t have time to play. I have a show to watch, and I’ve been waiting for this show for a while. You can watch it with me or you can leave.” She obviously did not understand because she pouted and whined about me not wanting to play with her. I remember looking at the clock and feeling anxious sweat. Inside of myself, I did not want to panic. I felt like my life actually depended on watching this show.
All I could think was that this girl was trying to jeopardize my time with Prince. So I yelled at her, “Get lost! Leave!” Then she yelled a few not-so-nice things back to me, and said, “Make me!” So I did. I opened the apartment door and then escorted her – practically dragged and pushed her – to the other side of the door and slammed it shut. All I heard was a kick on the door in response and her saying that she was not my friend any more.
Hearing the commotion, my aunt came out of her room and asked me what was wrong. I looked at the clock again and was just in time for the start of the show. I told my aunt that my friend was a baby, and I did not have time for babies. My aunt looked at me strangely and then walked away. I could feel myself calming down inside of myself because there was no longer any obstacle in my way.
I sat through the show and waited for Prince. When it was time for Dick Clark to announce him, I was ecstatic. Dick Clark was holding up Prince’s album Prince. My aunt came out because she must have heard, and attempted to say something, but I immediately shushed her. When I heard Dick Clark say “Here is Prince”, that was it. I was on a fluffy cloud of happiness intently watching and loving every minute of it. I Wanna Be Your Lover and Why You Wanna Treat Me So Bad were the tunes Prince and his band sang, and I knew both songs by heart, but because I was so focused and only wanted to hear Prince, I remained quiet while smiling huge and wide.
The interview portion of the show was a moment of truth for me. It was apparent that even Prince was painfully shy. I was instantly in love because to me, his shyness automatically made him seem human. I did not know anything about him, of course, but for whatever reason, I felt an instant connection. I felt as if Prince knew and understood pain, and for whatever reason, tears came to my eyes. They were different tears than I had cried regarding anything to do with the sexual assault. The tears in that moment were about the connection I needed from someone who could empathize with me even though Prince was not even aware that I existed.
While Prince performed the next song, I actually got up and danced. It was like I was at a concert. At some point, there was a knock on the apartment door, and it was the neighbor across the hall complaining that I had thrown her daughter out of the apartment. I do not remember what my aunt said about that, but I did hear her say to the neighbor, “[The neighbor’s name], we are having a moment here! I wanna dance with my niece.” Then my aunt shut the door, and that is exactly what my aunt did with me, she danced with me. It was amazing!
That is the sound and power of music!
Stay tuned for the next post.
My Voice Unchained 