womensrights

Bred into music from my musician father, enlightened by Hip Hop in my uncles studio growing up in the 90’s. I was made for music, I was meant for hip hop. I knew exactly what I wanted to be at age 9. An A&R in the hip hop industry. There was only one problem, I was a woman and I was white. Fortunately for me I was raised with the mindset that ANYTHING was possible with hardwork.

At the age of 10 I joined the jazz band to become more musically sound. At the age of 16 I joined the step team to work with timing. And at the age of 18 I went to Full Sail University to get my degree in recording engineering. I was one of 4 woman in a class of 300 students.

Being one of the only woman at college would give me a peak into what was ahead. There were two groups in my college. You were either Analog (Rock) or Digital (Hip Hop). I was definitely Bobbi Digital. I would fight for my classmates respect, for them to “pick” me for group work. I would be sexualized at every corner, but still keep my head down and stay focused.

Two months before I graduated, my father, my guiding light, was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. He was expected to die before my graduation. He told me to keep going and so through it all I did.

I graduated with my Associate’s in recording engineering and was able to spend 6 months with my dad before he passed.

It was time for me to find my way.

I traveled to NY after that to stay with a DJ friend who got me a gig recording at Harmolodic studios in Harlem, NY. I’ll never forget my first session. I walk into studio A to meet the head engineer who happened to be a man as many head engineers were at that time. He looked me up and down and asked, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” I replied, “Of course I do”. As that session ended I could see that even though he didn’t respect me as his equal, he knew I knew what I was doing.

Let’s move onto when I moved to LA to work with some A-list producers and the skaters and a plethora of hip hop artists. Over and over, session after session, I was simply a woman, not good enough to be in the boys club, and not offering what the “groupies” were offering. I was just there, fighting for the respect that I was never given.

I got tired of spinning in circles so I decided to go online and look for personal assistant positions so that maybe, just maybe, I would find someone who would see what I had to offer. I knew if I just found the right opportunity, I would fly.

My next opportunity would be the most horrible and defining experience of my life. It would change me and shift my dreams into emptiness.

While in LA, I responded to and ad for a personal assistant to a music producer. I felt that this is exactly what I needed to move forward. When I met with the producer, we spent two weeks together before I took the “job”. We went to the Bad Boy record label, multi platinum studios, and stores that his friends owned. Everything checked out.

He told me he needed me to move to Vegas to help him promote a new album. It would be all expenses paid for my work towards this project and I would receive weekly pay.

So I went. I went toward my dreams without looking back. When I got there the lies slowly started to unfold. Whoever this man was, he was not a successful music producer. That was simply a facade he used to draw me in.

During my time there he tried to force me into prostitution, which I declined at every turn. He made me live in the same house with his “working” girls. He would beat me and manipulate me. He would use my dreams against me. He would leave me for days without food or money.

I’m sure while most read this, you think, why didn’t you just leave? I ask myself that question to this day. Why did I stay so long? I was so much better than that.

There are a few reasons. One reason was that everyone in my family was pushing me away from finding a job in music, if I ran, I would have to admit that I failed. I felt that it was my fault that I was in that situation. I was manipulated into thinking that there would be light at the end of that dark tunnel.

One day, when this man left the house again for days, I decided to do some digging. I found a piece of mail with his real name. Until this point, he had only given me a stage name that everyone knew him by. When I searched his name, I found out he had been imprisoned for years before meeting me for sexual assault.

When he came back, I confronted him and told him I was leaving. He beat me again. I was scared, but I didn’t know how to get out.

One day, he left again and this day was the day I decided to leave. I had been promoting nightclubs on the side to raise money for my exit. I packed everything and moved into a weekly hotel on the other side of the strip.

I knew, I had to call my family. I knew it was time for me to tell them the danger I was in. When I called, my grandparents sent me money to leave the West Coast and go back home.

This is the first time I tell my story publicly after 13 years. This is the first time I admit what happened to me. Growing up in the 90’s there were no woman that could prepare me for the Hip Hop industry. There was no guidance on how to move and what to look out for.

I only hope that my story, helps another young lady with the passion I once had. I was never the same after that, but I am a survivor. I am grateful I am alive today to share this and hopefully change the course of someone else’s life.