{"id":163758,"date":"2026-04-12T10:35:15","date_gmt":"2026-04-12T10:35:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us-pa\/163758\/"},"modified":"2026-04-12T10:35:15","modified_gmt":"2026-04-12T10:35:15","slug":"the-soundtrack-to-phillys-waning-gun-violence","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us-pa\/163758\/","title":{"rendered":"The soundtrack to Philly\u2019s waning gun violence"},"content":{"rendered":"

Sign up for Chalkbeat Philadelphia\u2019s free newsletter<\/a> to keep up with news on the city\u2019s public school system.<\/p>\n

This story was published in collaboration with The New York Times.<\/a><\/p>\n

Zayvion Hamiel, also known as ZayMoney<\/a>, sits at a DJ booth surrounded by speakers nearly as big as he is. He queues up a remix of Beyonc\u00e9\u2019s \u201cRun the World (Girls),\u201d as a line of teens prepare to walk a makeshift runway.<\/p>\n

This is Zay\u2019s House. From the street, it looks like a \u200c\u200cnondescript building on a \u200cnarrow block in North Philadelphia, one of the neighborhoods hardest hit by the city\u2019s gun violence crisis. But inside is a community space where modeling practice, graphic design, and DJ-ing happen regularly, and where Hamiel, 13, his siblings and other aspiring creators spend some of their after-school time.<\/p>\n

Teenagers in Philadelphia say music is key to helping them process the anger, grief, and loneliness that come with growing up around gunfire. Drill music, an aggressive subgenre of rap that has been accused of glorifying and inflaming violence, rose to prominence in the 2010s and has a hold on many teens. But a growing number of artists like Hamiel and programs in the city aim to harness music to deter violence.<\/p>\n

\"\"Zayvion Hamiel, 13, known musically as the rapper ZayMoney, livestreams outside his home, behind a family car with branding for his event space, Zay’s House. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) <\/p>\n

\u201cI started seeing these kids in the streets, and they\u2019re fighting, they\u2019re shooting each other, and I wanted them to stop,\u201d Hamiel said. \u201cThat was when I was 6.\u201d<\/p>\n

That year, his cousin was shot. Hamiel soon started writing verses with his mother, who is also his music producer and manager and runs an anti-violence nonprofit<\/a>. Their goal is to inspire young people to make and listen to rap that envisions a better Philadelphia.<\/p>\n

Young, dying young trying to prove a point \/ Being Black in the hood and staying out of the joint.<\/p>\n

\u2014 \u00a0Zayvion Hamiel\"\"Zayvion Hamiel, who’s learning the craft from DJ-ing from his friend, Tamaj Garner, who also goes by DJ Maj, DJs at Zay’s House. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) \"\"Zayvion Hamiel holds a microphone for his brother RJ, 4, during a livestream. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) <\/p>\n

Qidere Johnson, aka LGP Qua, rose to prominence as a young North Philadelphia artist pushing for a different kind of rap in the city.<\/p>\n

Johnson, a father of two, filmed videos on porches and at community events\u200c, with lyrics touching on systemic inequities.<\/p>\n

Then on Mother\u2019s Day last year, he was shot in broad daylight in the city\u2019s Kensington section. He was 30.<\/p>\n

The community response to his death was swift and heartfelt. Government officials named a street corner after him. The Philadelphia rapper Meek Mill paid tribute on Instagram<\/a>.<\/p>\n

For many young rappers, like Honesty Dawkins, 16, Johnson modeled success in the face of intense social and industry pressure to make violent rap.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor him to go against what everybody else is saying, being like, \u2018Hey, yo, this isn\u2019t cool \u2014 like, this is what we doing, and it\u2019s not right,\u2019 it was very brave of him,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\"\"A street sign at the corner of 9th and Clearfield streets memorializes Philadelphia rapper and anti-violence advocate Qidere Johnson, known as LGP Qua. Johnson was shot and killed during an attempted robbery in 2025. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) <\/p>\n

Dawkins, who goes by the artist name Honimommi<\/a>, lost a close friend to gun violence in January. While grief is part of her reality, her music focuses on confidence and success.<\/p>\n

She started laying tracks in a closet-size recording studio at a \u200cviolence prevention space not far from Zay\u2019s House called As I Plant This Seed<\/a>, where she still spends many \u200cevenings\u200c.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t talk about harming people and stuff like that,\u201d she said of her lyrics. \u201cI don\u2019t want my kids to grow up thinking that Philly is just a bunch of gun violence and people who are rapping about gun violence.\u201d<\/p>\n

We’re here to help.<\/p>\n

Every day, Chalkbeat Philadelphia reporters are answering your questions, following the money, and digging into what’s happening in the city’s public schools. Keep up with our free newsletter, delivered every Wednesday and Friday morning.<\/p>\n

Resisting the lure of drill<\/p>\n

A lot of commercial and social pressure pushes young artists to rap about gun violence. Drill rap, which originated in Chicago, is highly popular and notoriously heavy. Videos often feature rappers backed up by large groups of masked people holding guns.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe drill scene really took off, especially in West Philadelphia, especially during the pandemic,\u201d said the rapper Clinton Mills Jr., 25, who goes by CJ<\/a> Da Prodigy<\/a>. \u201cIf you a Philly rapper, people expect you to rap about killing and about selling drugs.\u201d<\/p>\n

The \u201cvirality of violence\u201d on YouTube and other platforms makes producing music about it more alluring than addressing its root causes, said Christopher R. Rogers, a scholar of Black culture and an assistant professor at Haverford College near Philadelphia.<\/p>\n

But drill music has caught the attention of prosecutors. \u201cThe district attorney has gotten involved,\u201d said Vinte Clemons, who makes music as ARSIN<\/a> and is one of the city\u2019s first adult artists to explicitly push against<\/a> violent rap. \u201cA lot of people have got locked up. A lot of people have died over it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bill Fritze, an assistant district attorney in Philadelphia, said his office\u2019s investigations had diminished some groups, but he expected music celebrating bloodshed to continue as long as there was a profit motive.<\/p>\n

Honesty Kearse, 19, said shifting music culture away from violence \u200cfeels urgent. She lost a sibling to gun violence, and worries about the influence drill has on her younger brother and the teenagers he hangs out with. She is taking a rap writing class as a way to process the grief, and to try to get a message across to her peers.<\/p>\n

\u201cI just want a world where I don\u2019t have to worry about if my siblings is gunned down just because they\u2019re wearing black,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

Kearse\u2019s after-school program is one of many that youth mentors say help young people channel an interest in music making in a different direction.<\/p>\n

\"\"DJ Dommis guest lectures at a Spin Academy class hosted by FamFrequency, a nonprofit that helps young people learn skills for the music industry. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) <\/p>\n

When Jonathan Edwards started FamFrequency Productions<\/a> four years ago, drill music \u201cwas all that,\u201d he said, even among his students who weren\u2019t actively involved in street crime. Today, he encourages them to tap into their authentic experiences instead.<\/p>\n

\u201cReflect on your week; put this in a lyric,\u201d Edwards said. \u201cNow half the city who is 15 years old, who just broke up with their girlfriend can relate to that lyric.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cassidy Brown, 20, credits FamFrequency for helping him find his own voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy brand started with a sort of Batman persona,\u201d said Brown, who performs under the name \u200cc12. \u201cIt was dark. I was mad. I didn\u2019t want anyone to know my face. I was kind of like a vigilante without the violence.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"Cassidy Brown, known musically as c12, mixes one of his songs. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) <\/p>\n

After some time working with Edwards, he became more comfortable showing his face and rapping about subjects like race and gender identity.<\/p>\n

\u201cTryna soften up a world that wants to see me as a brute. \/ Would my ancestors be proud to see how far I grew my roots?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2014 \u00a0Cassidy Brown<\/p>\n

\u201cAs I progressed with my music I was like, I want everybody to know,\u201d he said. \u201cIt feels amazing. It feels freeing. Because it\u2019s a coping mechanism for me, just to dump all of that out there and get it off my mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

To make it in the music industry, Brown is broadening his mix of relevant skills. In addition to writing music, he is studying mechanical engineering at Temple University and interning at a local recording studio.<\/p>\n

\"\"Cassidy Brown mixes one of his songs. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) \"\"Cassidy Brown sits for a portrait at MilkBoy the Studio, where he is currently an intern. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) <\/p>\n

\u201cLearning how to mix and match tracks and how to troubleshoot, learning how mics work,\u201d he said\u200c. \u201c\u200cThat\u2019s really where the money is at.\u201d<\/p>\n

Dancing to new beats<\/p>\n

Close to 1,000 \u200cteenagers crowded the edges of a carpeted rectangular dance floor on a recent Wednesday, cheering and shouting as a three-on-three dance battle heated up.<\/p>\n

\u201cTanging,\u201d the Philadelphia-grown dance style that competitors perform, is fast-paced, athletic, and at times combative. It\u2019s set to bouncy and explosive beats\u200c, a far cry from the heavy tones\u200c of drill rap.<\/p>\n

\"\"A dance cypher at Level Up Philly, a West Philadelphia violence prevention initiative. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) <\/p>\n

When someone threw down especially hard, teenagers stormed the floor. An emcee kept it moving, and a row of judges perched on lifeguard chairs determined the winners.<\/p>\n

At Level Up Philly,<\/a> a West Philadelphia violence prevention initiative, teens and organizers say the dance scene lets \u200cyoung people burn energy while finding a sense of belonging they may otherwise seek from gangs.<\/p>\n

\"\"Aaron Campbell, founder of Level Up Philly, walks with teens. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) \"\"A participant dances in the middle of a dance cypher at Level Up Philly. The anti-violence group provides a safe space for kids to engage in activities outside of school. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) <\/p>\n

\u201cThese are the ones who would just as easily be on the other side if we didn\u2019t provide this,\u201d said Aaron Campbell, the nonprofit\u2019s founder and executive director.<\/p>\n

On Campbell\u2019s forearm, a tattooed line of seven stick figures marks every Level Up participant killed by a bullet from 2022 to 2025. Last summer, \u200ca dance battle emcee was shot and killed.<\/p>\n

And then there are the injured children. Citywide, there have been more than 1,000 nonfatal shooting victims under 18 since 2020. Shootings have declined significantly since 2023. Campbell keeps gauze in the kitchen for changing bandages.<\/p>\n

Dance is one way for young people to block out the negative, said Tacori Aaria Mateen. She\u2019s 15, a rapper, athlete, and \u201ckid influencer\u201d with close to 600,000 Instagram followers<\/a>. She\u2019s known as the Philly Princess and also performs under the name T-Cori.<\/p>\n

One of her \u200cmost popular videos, \u201cHips,\u201d<\/a> features dozens of Philadelphia children goofing off with their friends, grooving in pajamas in their kitchens and dance-battling on their blocks.<\/p>\n

\u201cDance like a butterfly, hips like a bee \/ Killin\u2019 these moves like Muhammad Ali\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2014 \u00a0Tacori Aaria Mateen<\/p>\n

\u201cThe whole point is giving kids something to do than being out in the streets,\u201d Mateen said. \u201cInstead, you could go make a dance to this, or you could start making your own songs.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mateen performs at school assemblies, skating rinks, and pizza parties, sometimes with other youth influencers, including ZayMoney.<\/p>\n

\"\"Music artist, influencer, and entrepreneur Tacori Aaria Mateen, known both as T-Cori and Philly Princess, dances while her mother, Taliah Mateen, films her for a TikTok video. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) \"\"Tacori Aaria Mateen stands for a portrait. (Kriston Jae Bethel for The New York Times) <\/p>\n

The violence prevention activist and music producer Tommy Blackwell said events where kids could express themselves were \u200ccritical to deterring gun violence.<\/p>\n

But sustaining those spaces is a challenge. An open mic Blackwell used to organize with a stipend for nonviolent rap performances has been on hold since November because a state grant dried up.<\/p>\n

The challenge gains urgency as \u200csummer approaches\u200c, the prime season for block parties, music festivals and other opportunities for artists, and also when teenagers are out of school and shootings \u200ctypically spike<\/a>.\u200c<\/p>\n

\u201cThere are thousands of LGP Quas in the city of Philadelphia,\u201d Blackwell said. \u201cWe have to provide those platforms if we want to save lives.\u201d<\/p>\n

Visuals by Kriston Jae Bethel.<\/p>\n

This article was published as part of a collaboration between The New York Times\u2019s Headway Initiative and Chalkbeat Philadelphia, focused on gun violence in Philadelphia. This reporting is supported by the Stavros Niarchos Foundation (SNF), with the Local Media Foundation serving as a fiscal sponsor. Funders have no control over the selection, focus of stories or the editing process and do not review stories before publication. The Times retains full editorial control of the Headway initiative.<\/p>\n

Sammy Caiola covers solutions to gun violence in and around Philadelphia schools. Have ideas for her? Get in touch at scaiola@chalkbeat.org.<\/a><\/p>\n