I’ll go ahead and say it: I don’t care that XXXtenacion died. (I don’t care that you broke your elbow.) I don’t care enough to Google if that’s the right way to say his stage name.
Here’s what I care about: the people he abused and tried to kill, even though I don’t know them and I’ll probably never meet them. I care about them enough, as I do for all the survivors in my life, to not hear his music or support him. In such a materialistic, uncertain world, something is certain: what we choose to give our money to, matters.
Companies may see you as a dollar sign, but every dollar sign matters to them.
With every choice, we show others what we tolerate, what we consider normal, and what we love.
I don’t wish well upon the people who frequently and knowingly inflict pain on others. I hope all rapists and child molesters die.
Separating the Art from the Artist
You know how the story goes: “But they are (were) talented.” Or their looks come up. Or their dance moves. Oh please. Please!
Fortunately, most of these deadbeats are objectively talentless. Even if they weren’t, how have we as a society grown to accept women’s suffering and pain as collateral damage to men’s talent and art? Which, bears repeating, isn’t even good!
There are so many sources of inspiration around you.
Look into the success stories of rape/abuse survivors.
Look into the terror stories of rape/abuse survivors.
There are plenty of both. Know that you get a say in which stories become more frequent.
You’re directly contributing with what you allow, normalize, idolize.
Choose wisely, SVP.