The owners told him that at their old skating rink they played hip-hop and there were a lot of unruly behaviors and fights. To avoid that, hip-hop music was banned from the new establishment. They told him he couldn’t play anything with an urban beat.

Last night my husband did a soft opening for a local skating rink; it was family and friends night. We got in free while the employees worked out the bugs in their systems before the Grand Opening. My husband’s interveiw went great. The owners’ son actually knew my husband from when they both did competitive team skating. The owners were happy to have an established DJ who enjoyed skating. They said excitedly that they’d have “actual skate music”. He got the job instantly; they only asked that he not play any music with cursing. Not a problem, because my husband doesn’t personally listen to that sort or music, or curse himself.

when I walked in and fell in love with the motif. It was all brand new, and really nice. I raised my hand to wave at my husband, but never got around to the back it forth motion. He looked up, saw me, and rolled his eyes, and I was suddenly stunned by a foul aroma—the music stunk! What in the world was he playing?

Now, I am truly a DJ’s wife. I listen to all different kinds of music, and so does he. He’ll DJ all kinds of parties—from Hawaiian Luaus to pure house parties. And he always puts in his all, reads the crowd, and plays the music that suits the situation. He’s a professional.

So when I walked in, saw his face, and listened for a moment, I knew something was terribly amidst. There was a good diverse crowd that showed up—parents and grandparents, young kids, young adults, teenagers, even some toddlers wearing bright multi-colored first pair of skates. And while people were skating, there was at least of 3 to 1 ratio of people just sitting, or playing in the arcade. Something wasn’t right.

I soon found out why; my husband was told not to play any urban/hip-hop music by the owners—ever.

Everyone likes a diversity of music. I was rocking my head to some of the ‘80s music of my childhood, and tapping my feet to some oldies-but-goodies. However, that wasn’t the only music I expected to hear at a skating rink.

My husband tried to spice it up, and threw on some “Fire Burning” by Sean Kingston, followed by some Michael Jackson. The owners came and told him to take it off. I’m not kidding. My husband asked if he could play “Boom Boom Pow” by Black Eyed Peas, and was bluntly told no. When they did a “women only” skate he suggested “Single Ladies” by Beyonce. It wasn’t happening. I was disgusted—that stuff is mainstream!

The owners told him that at their old skating rink they played hip-hop and there were a lot of unruly behaviors and fights. To avoid that, hip-hop music was banned from the new establishment. They told him he couldn’t play anything with an urban beat. He replied, “No black music. Got it.” That’s my husband, blunt and to the point.

I was mad. How are you going to blame a musical genre for people’s stupidity? I can name a Country music club in my old city that had bad fights almost every night. I know some Spanish club that you better watch your back at. Why was he picking on Hip-Hop?

However, my husband did what any professional DJ would do—he played what they told him to play, and pointed to his boss when skaters complained—and they did complain. He dug out every generic song he could think of. When he played “Low Rider” by War (1975) I took off my skates and walked to the arcade. I just couldn’t take it anymore. Little kids were requesting Flow Rider, and they looked pissed, like someone gave them Spam instead of Ham—they are both delicious, but there is difference was obvious.

I was just ready to go. I felt unwanted. It wasn’t even really about race to me. I pride myself on being from the “Hip Hop Generation”. Everyone who really loves hip-hop knows it transcends race. It might have started in on the streets on the Bronx, or the depths of New Orleans, when black people found a way to communicate their story, but it’s grown into so much more than that. People of all races and ages listen to urban music.

I totally understand not wanting heavy rap music, or lyrics full of cursing, but that isn’t what all urban music is about. Most urban music today is pretty mainstream. I’m sorry Black Eyed Peas, not gansta. Banning Beyonce? Really? In what world is Michael Jackson too much?

The owner even went a step further and asked my husband for modern-Christian music to play. Really? Who told him people wanted to hear that? Are we assuming everyone present is Christian? Or even religious?

By telling my husband he couldn’t play the music I listen too, the owner told me he didn’t want me there. The owner told me that my money wasn’t green enough, and his establishment isn’t for me. But I must say he wasn’t just excluding me. On thinking back, I didn’t hear anything with a Latin twist, or heck, any Country, either. That is real unfortunate. Skating rinks’ main source of profit it isn’t from toddlers having birthday parties, or tweens rocking out to the Jonas Brothers, or grandparents rolling around to the oldies. A very large portion of their money comes during night and weekend sessions. It’s from kids who go skating a few times a month with their friends, or people my age who go on dates at the cool local skating rink, or die-hard skaters, like my husband, who spend Friday night doing shuffle skate routines until they are dripping with sweat. A lot of those people are going to want to hear old skool skate jams and some of the modern stuff on the radio today. And a lot of those songs have “urban beats”.

I am all about making your session music based on the time, day, and crowd. But don’t alienate a whole section of society by banning a large piece of their culture. Don’t irritate non-Christians by trying to make them listen to your music. I mean, you can do it, if you want to run people away.

If you ban hip-hop at your skating facility while you’re targeting a wide variety of people, you’re going out of business—quick.

By the end of the night enough people complained and the owner told my husband to play a few modern urban songs, but still watched him like a hawk. The dying crowd had to settle for some old Chris Brown joints (did the owner know he was a woman beater?). It was too late; my husband was pissed, and I was offended.

But my husband and I had one consolation between us. That skating rink is either going to play “our music” or it will be closed within a year. I guarantee it. And if I had the money, just for spite I’d open it back up and make it into a skating rink modeled after Cascade Skating Rink in Atlanta.

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