YOUNG M.A
YOUNG M.A IS A WHOLE MOOD.
Dressed in a black Gifts of Fortune snapback, a red Since 1982 sweatsuit, and crisp Air Forces, she’s all smiles, at once shaking the hands of every single person on set and marveling at the tattered carpet and wallpaper of the Hendrick I. Lott House. She’s just walked into this preserved, white picket-fenced home in south Brooklyn, which was once a stop on the Underground Railroad. While so many others on set succumb to the eerie ambience, M.A laughs, quite literally, in the face of fear—an attitude for which she credits her late brother, Kenneth, who’s part of the inspiration for her debut album. “He’s a big part of who I am today, why I’m so strong, and why I’m so unafraid of anything,” she says. “Losing him really woke me up. That’s when I really experienced life.”
It felt oddly appropriate to begin our conversation this way, especially considering our setting. For the mostly Black staff staging the shoot, we felt a reverence for the spirits of our ancestors who once hid in this house’s walls and under its floorboards. But the joy? One whose take-no-shit reputation and tough and tattoo-clad persona precedes her? This was an important—if unexpected—collaboration.
