Queen Deelah

More than Music
Priyanka Sharma-Sindhar

She still misses Bobby Hall. Someone shot him through a window last year, when he was visiting a friend. He was just 25.

Everyone believes it was a case of mistaken identity. But that doesn't make it easier to deal with. He's still dead.

She moved away to Austin. But a week ago, Queen Deelah, a music writer whose real name is Fadeelah Muhyee, came back. She came back to make music to honor her childhood friend Bobby at the third annual Turf Unity event.
She still misses Bobby Hall. Someone shot him through a window last year, when he was visiting a friend. He was just 25.

Everyone believes it was a case of mistaken identity. But that doesn't make it easier to deal with. He's still dead.

She moved away to Austin. But last month, Queen Deelah, a music writer whose real name is Fadeelah Muhyee, came back. She came back to make music to honor her childhood friend Bobby at the third annual Turf Unity event.

You might know all about Turf Unity. But chances are that you've never heard of it. To know what Turf Unity is, you'd have to understand what drives the violence in Oakland. The gang wars are in L.A. In Oakland, it's turf wars. It's one neighborhood that has historically not gotten along with another neighborhood. Sobrante Park and Ghost Town have their rivalry. West Oakland and North Oakland have theirs.

It all might seem very exciting if you're watching it on the big screen, and there's a cool background score to go along with it. But when you're talking about real people – real teenagers, for the most part – it begins to get ugly. Kids kill other kids and families and friends grieve. Ask Queen Deelah about grieving. She saw two close friends get killed. There's no glamour here.

Queen Deelah and scores of other musicians like her gather at the Ella Baker Center once every year to create music together. This year, they created music that honored Bobby Hall, who used to work in the community against violence.

And the underlying theme – as always – was to get past the turf wars.

"We get rappers from different neighborhoods that don't get along and use rap as a tool," says Nicole Lee, director of the Ella Baker Center's Silence The Violence campaign, which co-hosts the Turf Unity Project along with two other not-for-profit groups, Cov House Records and Art in Action.

"Everybody don't like everybody," says Queen Deelah. "But they know, 'I have to be peaceful to be a part of this.' We remember the big picture. We're trying to do something better for our community."

It isn't just that they're channeling their talents creatively. They're also helping their pockets. The participants of the event (at least 75 musicians showed up to the event this year) will soon begin fanning out across the east bay with CDs of the music they produced over the weekend. Last year, they sold 3000 CDs, says Xiomara Castro, Silence the Violence organizer and co-founder of Art in Action, which uses art to work for social justice.

You'll probably see them at Bart stations and street corners, trying to sell their music to anyone who'll stop to listen. If you see them and if you have $15 to spare, get a CD. Not just because you're helping someone earn a living; but because their music really is good.
- The Oakbook

Vacation for the Senses: Our critics recommend ten Bay Area acts to awe, inspire, and just plain rock you all summer long.
By Kathleen Richards, Nate Seltenrich and Rachel Swan

Queen Deelah
Though husky-voiced emcee Queen Deelah deploys all the staple techniques of Bay Area rappers — employing drug or hyphy-oriented slang terms; ending rap lyrics with a kewpie-doll-voiced Yee!; name-checking inner-city regions that have currency in hip-hop — every once in a while she'll let slip some intriguing detail about her personality or her life. Hailing from Oakland's rough Sobrante Park neighborhood, where she came up singing in the church choir and eventually found her voice, she raps about murders she's witnessed ("Dock of the Bay"), and about falling in love and being jilted ("Thinking Out Loud"). By singing all her own hooks in a gorgeous tenor that could, with a little practice, hark back to great gospel divas of the '60s and '70s, Deelah adds an extra layer of musical depth to her tracks. Like her forebear Latifah, this young queen juxtaposes her tender, feminine side with her harder street side; if her career moves forward, she may be remembered for bringing softness into hip-hop. MySpace.com/queendeelah (R.S.) - East Bay Express

Oakland Youth Organize for Justice
by Janny Castillo, BOSS

"My grandparents gave us unconditional love. They took care of me and my younger sister. I was taught to have hope and faith and I realized early on that I had a greater purpose -- to take care of my community and to help my people." -- Fadeelah Muhyee, youth organizer.
For youth growing up in Oakland, and immersed in an environment where drugs are prevalent, violence is the norm, and misery is in control, it can be difficult to see the way out. Twenty-year-old Fadeelah Muhyee has found a way out and is trying to reach in and pull many of her peers out, too. Fadeelah knows how difficult it is to survive on the streets; in the last two years, she has lost over 10 friends, ages 20 to 30.


I interviewed Fadeelah recently in a cyber cafe in the Philadelphia Convention Center at The Second National Summit on Equitable Development, Social Justice, and Smart Growth. We were among 1,300 participants who came together from across the United States to hear discussions on advancing regional equity in transportation, housing, and employment.


Fadeelah described how she became involved in youth organizing. As an Oakland High School junior, she participated in the youth program that Kids First founded in 2000. She learned to do outreach and became president of the Youth Power Club. Under her leadership, the youth held fundraisers for a local family affected by 9/11 and for the homeless.


"Kids First has taught me how to get to the root of a problem," Fadeelah said. "There is a need in our community for people to feel like they are being cared for, that their needs are being addressed. Our work helps to address those needs."


Fadeelah went on to help create similar youth groups at three other Oakland high schools. Under the umbrella of Kids First, Fadeelah and other youth organizers adopted the name of "Real Hard." They are connecting the city's high school students together to organize for a stronger voice in school and transportation policy. "We wanted the youth to have decision power," Fadeelah said. "Not just deciding what this year's prom theme will be."


Youth Power Club members, through a student teacher report card program, are able to "grade" teachers and provide input into the hiring of new teachers. Real Hard is currently working on training peer counselors to work one on one with students.


Real Hard organized passionately for an AC Transit rally that was held on May 18 of this year. "We started organizing around the fact that we could lose the youth bus pass," Fadeelah said. "We called our allies in the various high schools, informing them, and it resulted in a rally on the steps of an AC transit hearing."


The rally was a success, and the youth were able to bring seniors, disabled people and city officials together under one message: "Take Care of Our Kids, Keep the Youth Bus Pass!" This youth organizing effort was successful in pressuring AC Transit to vote to keep discounted bus passes on June 22. [For more on the rally, see "Young Transportation Activists Win Crucial Victory" in this issue of Street Spirit.]


Fadeelah represents Real Hard at meetings of the Transportation Justice Working Group, a regional group of nonprofits, organizers and concerned individuals working for equity in public transit. "The TJ Working Group has allowed me to gain experience from other organizers," Fadeelah said. "I feel like people respect us now and we have more power."


She also mentioned the civil rights lawsuit recently filed against the Metropolitan Transportation Commission (MTC). "The lawsuit makes our actions get more media and community attention. AC Transit is acknowledging us as a force and a voice to be listened to."


Just Cause/Real Hard has about 22 youth who are working under stipend and 15 youth volunteers. They have a network of high school teachers that allow them into the classrooms to talk to their peers. They also produce conscious hip hop CDs whose songs bring the message "that we are in this struggle together and help is out there." They produce the CDs at two recording studios, one at McClymond's High School and the other near Castlemont High School.


Here is a sampling of the lyrics:
"Open your eyes to the lies, America.
How many people got to die, America.
Before you hear the people cry, America."


When asked why she chose to be a youth advocate, Fadeelah spoke about her childhood. "My grandparents gave us unconditional love," she said. "They took care of me and my younger sister. I was taught to have hope and faith and I realized early on that I had a greater purpose -- to take care of my community and to help my people."


Fadeelah is now going to school, working for Kids First and raising a son. "It's been a struggle," she said, "but the struggle has given me faith and the feeling that I can do anything."


Fadeelah had these important words for other young people. "I want to send a message to the youth who want to make a change but don't know how. Start seeking help outside of the things you already know. I was trapped in the ghetto, but only mentally. I reached out and found the help that I needed to break the cycle of poverty and violence. A lot of my peers are angry; their parents are on drugs and abandoned them. I am also angry but I choose to use that anger and turn it to love through my work."
- Street Spirit