“You weren’t born to be a preacher my son, but you were born to preach.” These are the prophetic words of Duane Lawrence’s father. Early on, Gregory Lawrence, an actual preacher, saw in his young son the ability to spread a different kind of gospel… that of hip-hop.
Growing up in the poor Cape Flats suburb of Mitchell’s Plain, Duane Lawrence had a decision to make: drugs and gangsterism, an option many of his peers had little choice but to adopt, or a more positive route upwards. So hip-hop, and more specifically B-Boying, became – to stick with the evangelical metaphor – his salvation and redemption.
“I remember seeing the Run DMC vs Jason Nevins It’s Like That video, which featured a B-Boy called Kujo,” says Lawrence. “He had this whack style and I was like, ‘Hey man, this is me! This is what I want to do.’ And I’ve been practising ever since.”
Fame and recognition came early for Lawrence. It’s timing, though, made for another tough decision. Near the end of his matric year came an invitation to take part in the Battle Of The Year in Germany. Basically the world champs of B-Boying, this could be his ticket. Time for more wise words from Lawrence senior: “I made you and I’ve given you all I could, but you have to make up your own mind now. You can make it all the way to the top or you can drop all the way to the bottom.”
Fame and recognition came early for Lawrence. It’s timing, though, made for another tough decision
Lawrence chose B-Boying and just weeks before he was due to write his final exams, he jetted off to Germany for the start of what would become a B-Boy career littered with titles, at first with legendary crew Black Noise and then, from 2004, with his own crew Ubuntu, recent finalists in the Red Bull Beat Battle held in Joburg (see redbull.co.za/beatbattle).
“Initially, for me, B-Boying was all about the skills, being the best, and getting the attention. But the more I travelled, the more I learned about the message and the foundation of hip-hop and B-Boy culture. Not everyone understands the five elements of hip-hop culture: MCing, DJing, B-Boying, graffiti, and knowledge of self hip-hop – knowing yourself and knowing the history of hip-hop. Watch hip-hop on TV these days and it’s all about the bling, the cars, and the ladies. That’s not what hip-hop was about when it started out. It was about positive upliftment.”
And that’s the reason that, alongside the classes he gives in Gugulethu, Delft, and Mitchell’s Plain, every Thursday, you’ll also find Lawrence in Westlake, a small community next to Cape Town’s notorious Pollsmoor prison. “I was given a gift to be the best, but also to spread the world of positivity and help uplift people in the kind of situation that I grew up in. When I go into communities to teach, I’m not only teaching them the physical skills of dance, but also how to use B-Boying to elevate everything else in life. As a top B-Boy you need to be original, to create new moves, and be the best. In life it’s the same – you need to aspire to more than just the norm.”
Unfortunately, for all the good that Lawrence is trying to do, getting people to support him has proved tough. It seems not everyone in the hip-hop community aspires to the culture’s underpinning philosophy…
“Quite often in this industry we don’t support each other. We bring each other down. It’s ‘crayfish mentality’. If one crayfish tries to climb up out the bucket, the others climb on top of it… and then everyone falls down. Even people I looked up to and respected are not opening doors for me. I don’t know if they’re jealous or afraid of change. People don’t understand what I do. They think I just want to be big and flashy winning battles with my crew, but they don’t realise that I have to be that… I have to be the best for the kids to look up to me and listen to me.”
One organisation that has been listening to Lawrence is The Ackerman Foundation, and it has been lending a hand and funding his work in Westlake. “You can’t reach everyone, but I can spot the ones who have potential and who want to listen.
I try and teach them that once they can be the best B-Boy, there are opportunities beyond maybe working on the taxis. I tell them, ‘Listen, if there’s no money for education and you love dancing, let’s push through all of this and make it to the top.’ I can open doors for them.”
Comments
Add a comment