I got into many fights as a youth. I didn’t start most of them, but I saw just about all of them through.
Very few of these fights were necessary, in that I could have easily removed myself from them if I didn’t want to see them through. I was punished in some way for many of these scuffles – my last real fight got me kicked out of my high school for an entire semester.
Sometimes I didn’t think the punishment was fair – why should I get in trouble for defending my body and “honor?” – but I was punished regardless because I did something I should not have.
I think about that whenever I catch up on news of Philadelphia rapper Meek Mill’s current two-to-four-year prison bid for probation violations, which he started serving last fall. Ever since he went in, there’s been much ado about the severity and fairness of his sentence. High-profile supporters range from Jay-Z to Kevin Hart, and the #FreeMeekMill hashtag has been ever-present on Twitter since he went in.
But I can’t fly that flag for the homie. He’s been stuck on stupid time and again.
-Meek Mill breaks silence for first time since November arrest-
Can’t Blame the Judge
Right out the gate, I fully agree that Hon. Genece Brinkley, Meek’s longtime judge and the woman who ultimately put him behind bars, is trifling at best and dirty at her worst. Whether or not you want to believe the story that Brinkley wanted Meek to give her a shout-out over a Boyz II Men song (which is so bonkers it’s probably true), this Black woman comes off like the many white judges who throw the book at young Black men in their courtrooms just because they’re young Black men.
Like, I’m scared to even write her name in this piece, lest she come after me for that time I rode my bike across the crosswalk before the light turned green. She’s actually threatening to sue over how her “good name” is getting dragged through the mud over this Meek business. But even Brinkley is not responsible for the fact that you can Google whole stories dedicated to Meek’s crime timeline.
Too Rich to Act that Stupid
You see, Meek is not some struggling underground rapper trying to feed his family by touring – dude has been a multi-millionaire for quite some time who commands more for one show than what many people from his neighborhood make in two years.
He is close to the category of rap superstars like Jay-Z, Kendrick Lamar and the like, who have been able to stay out of the kind of trouble that would totally mess up their bag and their very good living situations. Even Meek’s Maybach Music Group paterfamilias Rick Ross was able to dodge a felony kidnapping case.
He famously runs with an entourage and has the bread to literally and figuratively shield himself from bullshit. Like other smarter rappers, his people should ride dirty so he doesn’t have to.
Greg from Down the Street has Probation Problems Too
I fully acknowledge that the criminal justice system has been skewed to punish men of color since well before I was drawing breath. To that end, support for Meek that shines a light on such a pervasive systemic issue is a good thing. But there are definitely casualties of the criminal justice system who are far more deserving than Meek.
Let’s keep it a full buck, though: #FreeMeekMill or #Justice4Meek wouldn’t exist if he weren’t famous. The public tends to diminish the crimes and transgressions of people who entertain us (the only reason R. Kelly and Chris Brown have been allowed to continue putting out music). I’ve no doubt most of the folks rocking with him right now would be calling him an idiot if he were just plain ol’ Robert Williams, Costco employee.
It looks like #FreeMeekMill could finally become a reality thanks to some Mark Fuhrman-esque shenanigans. I hope he gets out soon and I wish him the best. But my sentiments are similar to Joe Budden’s: I hope that spending some real time in the clink will help Meek recognize the uniquely privileged situation he’s in, and that he should try hard to spend the rest of what will be a long career of rapping like he’s yelling at someone on the other side of the park while keeping his nose clean and his money phones thick.
Dustin J. Seibert is a native Detroiter living in Chicago. Miraculously, people have paid him to be aggressively light-skinned via a computer keyboard for nearly two decades. He loves his own mama slightly more than he loves music and exercises every day only so his French fry intake doesn’t catch up to him. Find him at his own site, wafflecolored.com.