We recently connected with Dyalekt and have shared our conversation below.

Dyalekt, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Let’s jump back to the first dollar you earned as a creative? What can you share with us about how it happened?

I made my first dollar MCing at the age of 17. I wasn’t a good rapper or confident freestyler yet. I had only been writing rhymes and freestyling with my crew, Cypher Cyndicate, for a few months. As usual I got paid because of nepotism. My mom’s co-worker was getting married and was looking for something cheaper than a string quartet. She asked my mom if I wanted to perform at her wedding. Not my songs or anything. The bride to be wanted to have some freestyle battle raps at her wedding. Her plan was for me, alongside my rhyme partner/mentor Kryciss, to pop out of the audience right around the “If anyone has any objections…” and kick battle rhymes about the bride and groom. Not me battling Kryciss. They provided us with a cheat sheet of in-jokes, insecurities, and controversies about the family.. We had index cards with notes, but no rhymes written, or even practiced (we shoulda practiced). We smashed the gig like the bride smashed cake in her husband’s face. Have the partner to pass it to, plus the notes, helped me hide my inexperience. I’ve gone on to perform in various ways at many weddings since, but that first one was pretty special. Oh and they paid us $20. I forget if it was each or total.,

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

Ok so this was a bit of a winding road, but it ends up (or continues?) with me being an MC and Hip Hop educator for over 20 years. I’m the co-founder of a comany called Pockets Change, where we use Hip Hop pedagogy to help students, teachers, and families to demystify personal finance and heal their relationships with money. We’ve helped thousands of people find the tools to save money, the freedom to spend it on what’s important to them, and the grace to forgive ourselves for so called financial mistakes. We’ve even won a few awards. Most recently I was (am?) a 2025 PASEsetter for my decades (I’m old) of service in after school programs in New York City.

I didn’t grow up in New York, and I never planned to be a teacher. I graduated high school in St Croix, in the US Virgin Islands, and came to New York for college after their director of minority affairs sold me on their acting program. I acted in a few plays in high school, and I got the performance bug. I wanted to go to school for acting. I had also been dabbling in music, joining a rap group my senior year, so I thought it would be cool to visit the birthplace of Hip Hop.

I wanted to act in theater. The thing that excited me about theater is that the audience is a participant in the show as well, My acting professor sent me to a Broadway show, and it felt like tv in front of a live studio audience. I got the theater feeling I was looking for from the MCs freestyling on the street corners. In the cypher, everyone is a participant, and the focus is shared. No stars, except for those who earn it in the moment. The best thing about Hip Hop is that it’s not a spectator sport.

My backup plan was to be a lawyer, so I was working in the mailroom at a law firm. I had paralegals helping me get experience by using me for grunt work, and lawyers that loved to talk about how they got their position. When I found out my lawyers represented the police who murdered Amidou Diallo, I left the profession entirely.

I spent my time in Hip Hop spaces, learning about and contributing to the culture. I found work where I could, and worked the open mic circuit. After some time I was invited to perform for some students at an after school program, and I had found my audience. The students were fascinating, and asked the kinds of questions that showed they were really paying attention to my art. After doing a few more of these performances, and adding lessons for students to follow me, I began to wonder why I had come to NYC and learned so much about this culture and art form, when I never cared about my studies as much. I went and got an education on education, and began infusing my lessons with the principles, examples, and art forms found in Hip Hop. I found students to be more engaged when they had an opportunity to be creative, and we tackled literacy, math, phonics, and even standardized tests. I conducted teacher trainings about how to MC in the classroom, and got to write some curricula as well. One thing parents and teachers always asked me was, “But how will this make them money?”

My wife, Pamela Capalad, is a financial planner and began Pockets Change as a financial literacy curriculum, and was contracted to teach a job prep workshop, but they didn’t have a lesson. I happened to have a job prep lesson based in Lincoln-Douglas debate and rap. Students would find a resolution, write arguments, and freestyle improvised rebuttals. After the debate, I’d share what skills they had learned to thrive in the interview process. If you can kick a freestyle rap to rebut an argument, you’ll be fine when a prospective employer asks you to share your biggest weakness.

From then on we have used the Hip Hop pedagogy to change the way we talk about money. We teach classes, provide professional development, have lessons for sale, and recently began a song contest for high school students. Art is the way that we change the common sense around money, and we wanted to give the youth an opportunity to share their voice. We’re in our 4th year, and continue to grow.

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

Make art. Everyone. Don’t worry about being good. Art is a thing that humans do, just like every bird sings (every bird that sings, I mean). It’s how we process our feelings, share perspectives, find community, challenge opinions, and dream of a better world. You don’t have to be in art galleries to make art. You don’t need to monetize your collection of haikus to be a poet. The science fiction writers of yesteryear imagined that technology would free us to be creative, but the oligarchs of today have instead harnessed technology to surveil and restrict us, while making art for us, thus denying all the benefits I just wrote about. Passive consumption of art is not what humans do, unless we’re too worn down to participate. When we make art together, we understand each other, We get on the same page, script, or beat. We break down barriers and remember how similar we are. And encourage other people to make art too. We gotta preach to the choir so we know what to sing.

We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?

When I said that art isn’t supposed to be good, It’s supposed to be art, I wasn’t even talking about capitalism and the commodification of art. I mean the little things, the ways we see ourselves and want to be seen.

My son is 5, and he’s obsessed with drawing. He’s making comics now and he asked me to make one. I almost said “no.” I wanted to draw comics when I was a kid, and I wasn’t the best. I wasn’t even good. As an adult I get stressed out when I’m asked to draw. Because if it’s not good, what is it worth?

I took a deep breath, and I drew a comic book for my son. I remembered something. I like drawing comics. It’s fun to mix pictures with words, and I have some stories in me. I got to share time, and art with my son. That’s worth it. He liked the comic too.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://pocketschange.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dyalekt
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/dyalekt/
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@pocketschange2062
• Other: dyalekt.com, getshameless.com

Image Credits

Partnership for After School Education, Naomieh Jovin, Brian Cherchiglia