Is meditation the answer to black people's alarming rates of high blood pressure?
The underrated health lesson from Questlove's book "Hip Hop Is History"
As a Geriatric Millennial who has followed hip-hop her entire childhood, in large part due to her Gen X brother, I wasn’t sure if Questlove’s “Hip Hop Is History” book would teach me anything new. But Millennials and Gen Xers are clearly not the only fans of hip-hop. For Gen Zers and the Alpha Generation, Questlove’s book is very necessary for aspiring rappers and those who claim they love hip-hop — but don’t know much past the current decade.
One recent example: I clutched my imaginary medallion during a “The Shop” episode when Red* sat in front of Andre 3000 without a clue about “the south has something to say” speech. That alone proves the book (and an easy YouTube search) is needed.
There are a couple more perks from the book too. Questlove organizing “A GRAMMY Salute To 50 Years Of Hip” was as entertaining to hear about on Trevor Noah’s “What Now?” podcast as it was to read in the opener of his 2024 book. I had to get my hands on it to fill in the blanks from the podcast story. And it was worth it! (It also made me appreciate a rapper I’d never paid much attention to before: Lil Uzi Vert.)
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But there was one particular part during the opener (without giving away spoilers) that I fully related to — even if I don’t know as many of the newer rappers as he does. Questlove’s GRAMMY hip-hop tribute was at risk of falling apart because of an arrest, a potential body double, a sore loser, a whole lot of “no” responses, and one too many egos. He was freaking out about whether he would be able to pull off this ceremony at all.
Although he was supposed to be in his designated location by 7:13, at 7:04, he marched into a backstage closet and said he needed four minutes. His only request: a chair. I knew exactly what he was about to do because I would’ve done the same thing, although I would’ve just flopped on the floor. He was going in that closet to meditate. More specifically, he was going to do the Breath of Fire (Kapalbhati Pranayama).
My failed attempts at meditating
At just about every vegan or vegetarian festival I’ve attended over the past 19 years, there was a meditation tent. I would sit on a mat or grass and try to meditate, but I would always end up creating a grocery list, a to-do list or think about something negative. It took me years of practice, and actually learning the proper way to meditate (instead of just being quiet while lying down), before I finally understood why meditation was so important.
I’d treated it as sort of a joke — until I was diagnosed with high blood pressure in 2022. Then, there wasn’t a damn thing funny. I’d filed a small claims case, and the work put into that case resulted in my blood pressure reaching the 150s and 160s. Something certainly had to change, even though I refused to agree to the mediocre settlement terms.
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By the time I’d filed a complaint with the Illinois Department of Human Rights, my blood pressure was nearing 170. And my doctor bluntly told me that I was at risk of a stroke. I shrugged. We all “gotta go” someday anyway, and this wasn’t my first time fighting for equality. She was not impressed by my indifference for my health. (Thinking back on it, I have so much love for her for that alone. She didn’t want me to back down; she just wanted me to find a balance.)
The American Heart Association reports that approximately 55% of Black adults have high blood pressure (also known as hypertension). While my doctor said it’s usually genetic, in my case, I had zero signs of high blood pressure until I filed this lawsuit. So I asked her what else I could do in the meantime. First, she emailed me after reviewing the massive amount of sodium in all the prepared vegan food I was eating. I emptied my freezer of all of them and doubled my fresh produce. Second, I lost about 20 pounds and started meditating every single morning for 10 minutes.