Tupac : Resurrection

by Jacob Hoye; Karolyn Ali

• ISBN13: 9780743474344
• ISBN10: 0743474341
• Edition: 1st
• Format: Hardcover
• Copyright: 2003-10-21
• Publisher: Atria

Summary

"When I was a baby I remember one moment of calm peace, then three minutes after that it was on."A stunningly designed, richly illustrated companion to the much-anticipated documentary film, Tupac: Resurrection brings unprecedented clarity and soulful intimacy to the life and work of Tupac Shakur.In many ways the autobiography he never got to write, Tupac: Resurrection features the artist in his own words, examining his complicated life and the controversial decisions that plagued him while he was alive. Tupac: Resurrection captures, as never before, his boundless passion, searing honesty, and stunning intelligence, and showcases a range of never-before-seen writings, letters, screenplay ideas, lyrics, poems, photographs, and personal effects, and stands as an indelible testament to the artist's astonishing cultural legacy. Tupac: Resurrection crystallizes the enduring significance and impact of one of the most complex, haunting, and influential artists of our time.

Excerpts

Chapter One My mother was a Black Panther and she was really involved in the movement. Just black people bettering themselves and things like that. She was in a high position in the party which was unheard of because there was sexism, even in the Panthers. All my roots to the struggle are real deep. My stepfather at the time, Mutulu Shakur, he was also a well-known revolutionary. And then my godfather, Geronimo Pratt, he had a top official rank position with the Panthers on the West Coast. There's racism, so when the Panthers hit, the government panicked and they felt like the Panthers were detrimental to American society. So they raided every Panthers' house, especially the ones who they felt like, could do damage as an orator. My mother was seven months pregnant, they put a match to the door and said "Fire, Fire!" And you know it's like five in the morning so my mother opened the door and they just burst in, put a shotgun to her pregnant belly and put a gun to her head and said, "Don't move, bah, bah, bah, you're under arrest." They treated them like less than humans.My mother was pregnant with me while she was in prison. She was her own attorney. Never been to law school. She was facing three-hundred-some odd years. One black woman, pregnant, beat the case. That just goes to show you the strength of a black woman and the strength of the oppressed.A month after she got outta prison she gave birth to me. So I was cultivated in prison, my embryo was in prison.When I was a baby I remember one moment of calm peace, then three minutes after that it was on. I was named after this Inca Chief from South America whose name was Tupac Amaru. I think the tribal breakdown means "intelligent warrior." He's a deep dude. If I go to South America they gonna love me, I'm telling you. They know Tupac.My mom is the bomb. First I rebelled against her because she was in the movement and we never spent time together because she was always speaking and going to colleges and everything. I always used to feel that she cared about "the" people more than "her" people. And then, after that was over, it was more time spent with me and we were both just like, "You're my mother?" And she's like, "You're my son." So then she was really close with me and really strict almost. She taught me how to be community orientated. And I think my mother taught me how to understand women a lot more than my peers can. I'm not uncomfortable around strong women. My sister is the bomb too. She's my biggest critic, she's real smart, funny as all hell. I think that my mother, like Fred Hampton, Mark Clark, Harriet Tubman, they felt like they were laying tracks for the generation to come. Somebody has to break out and risk losing everything and being poor and getting beat down; somebody sacrifices. But poverty, it's no joke. If there was no money and everything depended on your moral standards and the way you treated people, we'd be millionaires, we'd be rich. But since it's not like that, we're stone broke. And that's the only thing I'm bitter about is, growing up poor because I missed out on a lot of things. I can't always have what I want or even things that I think I need. I feel that my mother made a lot of decisions in her life -- she could have chose to go to college and been well off. But she chose to fight and make things better.My mother, she's totally brilliant. Totally understanding and caring. And she's human -- I mean, she'll be wrong a lot but we can talk about it. My mother taught me three things: respect, knowledge, search for knowledge. It's an eternal journey.She always tells me that the payoff to her is that me and my sister grew up good and we have good minds -- but we just didn't have money. Poverty. If I hated anything, it'd be that.My father was a Panther. I never knew where my father was or who my father was for sure. The times that I came up, it was the late sixties.