Dear ‘Pac: A Letter to Tupac Shakur 26 years after his death

 Our resident hip-hop journo pens a heartfelt letter to the legendary rapper who passed away on September 13th, 1996

Dear Pac…

We miss you.

Let me start off by thanking you for everything you have done for music and pop culture in general. You may or may not know but you’re a big deal around here. From music and film to politics and revolutionary teachings, you have inspired not only the generation that grew up with you but also the generations that have come after you.

Today marks the 26th anniversary of your untimely death, and quite frankly that’s a scary thought. It means that for 26 years we’ve been without your colorful pallet of knowledge. We’ve been without your words of wisdom. We’ve been without the unfiltered passion that accompanied everything you did. And of course, we’ve been without your polarising musical output that one minute heard you showing compassion for the struggles and strifes of the black woman (‘Keep Ya Head Up’) and the next heard you firing scathing lyrical shots at your enemies (‘Hit ‘Em Up’). It’s a shame today's kidsay will never know what it was like to live through your music in real-time.

For me, you changed my life. I was lucky enough to grow up with your music. We never met but I always felt like we had a connection. And while I didn’t grow up in the poor ghettos of America like you did, nor did I have parents who were members of the Black Panther Party, your music allowed for those going through personal struggles to somehow shape it to fit their own situations and ultimately relate. I was one of these people. I didn’t have the best of childhoods. In fact, it was pretty rough. The thing that got me through it - besides having an amazing aunt and uncle who were quick to shelter me from certain situations while also encouraging my love of music, as well as a music teacher who to this day means more to me than he’ll ever truly know - was your art.

You saved my life. I’ve said this a few times to a few different people and while certain people have laughed and made fun of me for making such a bold statement there’s no getting past the fact that I believe in my heart I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You changed my whole outlook on life. You taught me how to be a man. You taught me how to treat women. You taught me that nobody is perfect but as long as we own up to our mistakes, learn from them, and try to balance out the bad with the good then all will be ok. One other thing you taught me was how to love, and I’m not just talking about a romantic type of love, I’m talking about loving someone, anyone, or even something in a way that transcends the regular definition of love. So while my body was going through its fair share of beatings in many forms my spirit was always in good hands. You took care of me without even knowing it.

My love for you wasn’t a secret either. To those that visited my childhood home, they were able to see it. They saw the bedroom wall covered in a black and white 2Pac collage. There had to be damn near 200 pictures of you on my wall. Then there were the cassettes and CDs. I had them all. In fact, I owned All Eyez on Me three times. Why? Because I played it so much that I busted the tape on multiple occasions and there are only so many times you can use sellotape to put the tape back together - the kids of today will never understand this struggle, haha. I even remember being on a school trip to Exeter - why Exeter I have no idea - and I wanted to buy the Me Against the World album on CD and I didn’t have any money so a classmate loaned me the money because she saw how desperate I was to own it - oh yes, she was girlfriend material after that gesture for sure.

Now I’m not totally blinded to think that you were perfect by any stretch, because you weren’t and I know you’d be the first to admit that. But again, it’s admitting it and making a change or balancing out the bad with the good that makes all the difference. You made your mistakes. The press talked about your mistakes as much as they could so there’s really no hiding from the controversies that surrounded you. And while you challenged some of the controversies and disputed some of the claims made against you, only you will truly know if they were true or not. I’m not here to judge you. Like you said in your album All Eyez on Me, only God can judge you. But even if I was entitled to judge, I wouldn’t. Do you know why? Because you were a humanitarian for the hood. You did way more good for your community, and the world, in fact, than bad. I made my own mistakes too and I lived through mine like you did yours and I want to give back like you did.

So while you inspired a generation of black teens and adults alike with your art, your tales of personal struggle, and your powerful speeches that questioned the police, the judicial system, and the government, you also inspired an 11-year-old white kid from the south of England. Who knew? And this was all before hip-hop became truly accepted. Yes, it had crossed over commercially at this point but in the areas where I lived and grew up racial ignorance still reigned supreme. I constantly dealt with racism because I was in love with a culture that was birthed out of the Black and Latino struggle. Whether I was called a wigger or bullied because I had Black friends, it was pretty brutal. For a child to deal with this type of ignorance - from adults too, not just kids - it was tough. But I really loved the culture. I really loved you, your music, and what you stood for. This was another thing you taught me, stick to your guns and follow your passion no matter what. If you don’t stand for something you will fall for anything. At the beginning of your song ‘If I Die 2Nite’ the words “a coward dies a thousand deaths, a soldier dies but once,” have always stuck with me because of that, so much so that I have the words tattooed into my skin right underneath a portrait of your face (thank you, Miss Terri). Face everything head-on and don’t be scared, that’s something else I got from you.

By sticking to my guns and following my passions I eventually found like-minded people who loved the same things as me and were passionate about the same things. It was a beautiful fee one I didn't think would ever materialize. So when it did it kickstarted a change in my demeanor. My time spent at college in St. Austell and university in Bedford were the best periods of my life. Finding Olli, Jonezy, Lee, Paul, Jarv, Gus, Shannon, Calli, Akan, and a host of others was the result of just following my passions. And do you know what the common denominator was amongst us all? That’s right, you. We all knew and loved your music. I can remember meeting Paul for the first time after basketball practice in the locker room. He had his headphones on and I could hear he was listening to All Eyez on Me, so of course, I approached him about it. Your music connected everyone, and it still does to this day.

So here I am 20 years on, a successful and respected music journalist whose specialty is hip-hop. Who’d have thought it? Not me, that’s for sure. You gave me a career. You got me out of the rut that so many fall into when life doesn’t offer you much to work with. I have never been happier and you played a part in it. I do have to acknowledge a few other artists that played a big role in me being where I am today because their music, actions, or words inspired me in some shape or form like yours did. Prince, Eminem, Marvin Gaye, Keith Murray, Royce Da 5’9”, Barry White, Jon B (who you introduced me to with the song ‘Are U Still Down?’), Michael Jackson, 50 Cent, Ginuwine, Stevie Wonder, these are a few names that helped me on my journey.

I often imagine what life would be like if you were still around, whether we would have met, and what you'd be up to. Would you still be making music? I don’t doubt for a second that you would be that it was one of your main tools to touch the people and the people were always the most important thing to you. Music, as it’s known today, would be different that’s for sure. You were a leader and with that said you’d have led the culture shaping the soundscape of hip-hop as you went along. I know you’d be acting in big-budget movies too on a Will Smith level but I also feel like you’d still be acting in independent movies as you were always about supporting independence. I’m pretty certain you’d have a charity, or a hundred because you loved giving back. I reckon you’d be living in Atlanta and I think you’d probably have had a family by now. Would it be with Kidada? I don’t know, but you would have made a great father, that I’m sure of.

Anyway, 20 years on and we still miss you. You’re still thought of as one of the best to ever do it. You’re still looked at as a cultural icon in the same vein as a Kurt Cobain or a Jimi Hendrix. And as sad as it is, your beautiful mother Afeni passed away this year and all I can think about is that she left the earth at the right time just so that she could spend the 20th anniversary of your death with you, her son. So, I just wanted to let you know that you’re still held in high regard and loved and that plenty of people the world over miss you. Your friends miss you. Your family misses you. Your fans miss you. I truly miss you and I thank you for everything.

Raising a glass in your honor, we love you Tupac Amaru Shakur.

Rest in peace.

Will “ill Will” Lavin
 Dear Pac…

We miss you.

Let me start off by thanking you for everything you have done for music and pop culture in general. You may or may not know but you’re a big deal around here. From music and film to politics and revolutionary teachings, you have inspired not only the generation that grew up with you but also the generations that have come after you.

Today marks the 20th anniversary of your untimely death, and quite frankly that’s a scary thought. It means that for 20 years we’ve been without your colorful pallet of knowledge. We’ve been without your words of wisdom. We’ve been without the unfiltered passion that accompanied everything you did. And of course, we’ve been without your polarising musical output that one minute heard you showing compassion for the struggles and strifes of the black woman (‘Keep Ya Head Up’) and the next heard you firing scathing lyrical shots at your enemies (‘Hit ‘Em Up’). It’s a shame that today's kids will never know what it was like to live through your music in real-time.

For me, you changed my life. I was lucky enough to grow up with your music. We never met but I always felt like we had a connection. And while I didn’t grow up in the poor ghettos of America like you did, nor did I have parents who were members of the Black Panther Party, your music allowed for those going through personal struggles to somehow shape it to fit their own situations and ultimately relate. I was one of these people. I didn’t have the best of childhoods. In fact, it was pretty rough. The thing that got me through it - besides having an amazing aunt and uncle who were quick to shelter me from certain situations while also encouraging my love of music, as well as a music teacher who to this day means more to me than he’ll ever truly know - was your art.

You saved my life. I’ve said this a few times to a few different people and while certain people have laughed and made fun of me for making such a bold statement there’s no getting past the fact that I believe in my heart I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You changed my whole outlook on life. You taught me how to be a man. You taught me how to treat women. You taught me that nobody is perfect but as long as we own up to our mistakes, learn from them, and try to balance out the bad with the good then all will be ok. One other thing you taught me was how to love, and I’m not just talking about a romantic type of love, I’m talking about loving someone, anyone, or even something in a way that transcends the regular definition of love. So while my body was going through its fair share of beatings in many forms my spirit was always in good hands. You took care of me without even knowing it.

My love for you wasn’t a secret either. To those that visited my childhood home, they were able to see it. They saw the bedroom wall covered in a black and white 2Pac collage. There had to be damn near 200 pictures of you on my wall. Then there were the cassettes and CDs. I had them all. In fact, I owned All Eyez on Me three times. Why? Because I played it so much that I busted the tape on multiple occasions and there are only so many times you can use sellotape to put the tape back together - the kids of today will never understand this struggle, haha. I even remember being on a school trip to Exeter - why Exeter I have no idea - and I wanted to buy the Me Against the World album on CD and I didn’t have any money so a classmate loaned me the money because she saw how desperate I was to own it - oh yes, she was girlfriend material after that gesture for sure.

Now I’m not totally blinded to think that you were perfect by any stretch, because you weren’t and I know you’d be the first to admit that. But again, it’s admitting it and making a change or balancing out the bad with the good that makes all the difference. You made your mistakes. The press talked about your mistakes as much as they could so there’s really no hiding from the controversies that surrounded you. And while you challenged some of the controversies and disputed some of the claims made against you, only you will truly know if they were true or not. I’m not here to judge you. Like you said in your album All Eyez on Me, only God can judge you. But even if I was entitled to judge, I wouldn’t. Do you know why? Because you were a humanitarian for the hood. You did way more good for your community, and the world, in fact, than bad. I made my own mistakes too and I lived through mine like you did yours and I want to give back like you did.

So while you inspired a generation of black teens and adults alike with your art, your tales of personal struggle, and your powerful speeches that questioned the police, the judicial system, and the government, you also inspired an 11-year-old white kid from the south of England. Who knew? And this was all before hip-hop became truly accepted. Yes, it had crossed over commercially at this point but in the areas where I lived and grew up racial ignorance still reigned supreme. I constantly dealt with racism because I was in love with a culture that was birthed out of the Black and Latino struggle. Whether I was called a wigger or bullied because I had Black friends, it was pretty brutal. For a child to deal with this type of ignorance - from adults too, not just kids - it was tough. But I really loved the culture. I really loved you, your music, and what you stood for. This was another thing you taught me, stick to your guns and follow your passion no matter what. If you don’t stand for something you will fall for anything. At the beginning of your song ‘If I Die 2Nite’ the words “a coward dies a thousand deaths, a soldier dies but once,” have always stuck with me because of that, so much so that I have the words tattooed into my skin right underneath a portrait of your face (thank you, Miss Terri). Face everything head-on and don’t be scared, that’s something else I got from you.

By sticking to my guns and following my passions I eventually found like-minded people who loved the same things as me and were passionate about the same things. It was a beautiful feeling I didn't think would ever materialize. So when it did it kickstarted a change in my demeanor. My time spent at college in St. Austell and university in Bedford were the best periods of my life. Finding Olli, Jonezy, Lee, Paul, Jarv, Gus, Shannon, Calli, Akan, and a host of others was the result of just following my passions. And do you know what the common denominator was amongst us all? That’s right, you. We all knew and loved your music. I can remember meeting Paul for the first time after basketball practice in the locker room. He had his headphones on and I could hear he was listening to All Eyez on Me, so of course, I approached him about it. Your music connected everyone, and it still does to this day.

So here I am 20 years on, a successful and respected music journalist whose specialty is hip-hop. Who’d have thought it? Not me, that’s for sure. You gave me a career. You got me out of the rut that so many fall into when life doesn’t offer you much to work with. I have never been happier and you played a part in it. I do have to acknowledge a few other artists that played a big role in me being where I am today because their music, actions, or words inspired me in some shape or form like yours did. Prince, Eminem, Marvin Gaye, Keith Murray, Royce Da 5’9”, Barry White, Jon B (who you introduced me to with the song ‘Are U Still Down?’), Michael Jackson, 50 Cent, Ginuwine, Stevie Wonder, these are a few names that helped me on my journey.

I often imagine what life would be like if you were still around, whether we would have met, and what you'd be up to. Would you still be making music? I don’t doubt for a second that you would be that it was one of your main tools to touch the people and the people were always the most important thing to you. Music, as it’s known today, would be different that’s for sure. You were a leader and with that said you’d have led the culture shaping the soundscape of hip-hop as you went along. I know you’d be acting in big-budget movies too on a Will Smith level but I also feel like you’d still be acting in independent movies as you were always about supporting independence. I’m pretty certain you’d have a charity, or a hundred because you loved giving back. I reckon you’d be living in Atlanta and I think you’d probably have had a family by now. Would it be with Kidada? I don’t know, but you would have made a great father, that I’m sure of.

Anyway, 20 years on and we still miss you. You’re still thought of as one of the best to ever do it. You’re still looked at as a cultural icon in the same vein as a Kurt Cobain or a Jimi Hendrix. And as sad as it is, your beautiful mother Afeni passed away this year and all I can think about is that she left the earth at the right time just so that she could spend the 20th anniversary of your death with you, her son. So, I just wanted to let you know that you’re still held in high regard and loved and that plenty of people the world over miss you. Your friends miss you. Your family misses you. Your fans miss you. I truly miss you and I thank you for everything.

Raising a glass in your honor, we love you Tupac Amaru Shakur.

Rest in peace.

Will “ill Will” Lavin