What Type of Mom Allows Her Kids to Listen to Explicit Music? (That Would Be Me, the Mom)

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Attempting to shield them from explicit content only fuels their curiosity, whether it’s music, films, or online content.

Back in 1990, I pleaded with my mom, insisting I was into rap for the beats, not the risqué lyrics. But when she caught Vanilla Ice rapping about an 8-ball, she was not having it—my treasured cassette of To the Extreme met an untimely end in the trash.

At 10 years old, I had no clue what an 8-ball was; I thought it referred to that amusing plastic toy you shake to get answers like, “Will I ever meet my celebrity crush?” Maybe when she tossed out my Vanilla Ice tape, she unintentionally nudged me toward seeking out the most explicit lyrics I could find. Isn’t it ironic how parental control can backfire spectacularly?

Fast forward three years, and the sound of Dr. Dre’s Chronic album blasted through the walls of our suburban home. Compared to Vanilla Ice, that made him sound like a choir boy, especially with the giant pot leaf on the cover. I’m sure my parents were concerned about the language coming from my room, but I wasn’t out in the world calling my teachers inappropriate names. I understood that the words I sang along to were off-limits in real life.

It took me decades to appreciate my mom’s perspective. As my oldest child learned to read, she would see “Explicit” flash on the radio and cheerfully exclaim, “This one’s explosive!” prompting me to skip the track. While adorable, she wasn’t wrong—those bad words felt like a fuse lighting up. I was risking my kids’ innocence, yet they didn’t grasp why those words were frowned upon. How harmful could it be, really?

As my kids grew, I stopped trying to censor the lyrics manually. When Gwen Stefani sang, “This shit is bananas!” I would sing “shhhh” instead, but my kids were quick to complain I was ruining the song. Their sighs made me realize they were ready for more mature content, even as I struggled to accept they weren’t little anymore. One minute we were jamming to Frozen 2 for the umpteenth time, and the next, they were blaring Snoop D.O. Double G.

So, what kind of mom permits her kids to listen to explicit lyrics? The kind who eases them into bigger freedoms by allowing smaller ones first. I’ve learned that trying to keep them sheltered only intensifies the allure of music, movies, and the Internet. The lesson of checking yourself before you wreck yourself—thank you, Ice Cube—is one I’m passing down to my kids. I’m proof that a few F-bombs won’t traumatize them.

Reflecting on my past, I comprehend my mom’s worries that explicit lyrics might lead me astray. Ultimately, I turned out fine and know when it’s appropriate to use my colorful vocabulary and when to behave like a respectful adult. I owe a nod to 2Pac and Biggie for that. I hope my kids will one day see that my attempts to control their musical exposure weren’t about hiding things from them, but rather ensuring they were prepared for what lay ahead. After all, who better to guide them through this than their O.G. Mama?

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In summary, navigating the complexities of allowing kids to listen to explicit music is a balancing act of preparing them for the world while maintaining their innocence. Each family’s approach will differ, but understanding and communication are key.