I was at a party here in New York a few months ago and Buju Banton's Til Shiloh album was rocking the house. People requested more. Soon enough, the famous tune "Boom Bye, Bye" filled the room.

"Boom bye, bye inna batty bwoy head, rude bwoy nah promote them nastiness, them haffi dead!"

Waistlines kept moving as the song played out. I was shocked. This was a party for people 'in the life.' We should know better than to have this homophobic music at our parties!

I went to complain. The DJ told me she had no idea that that was what Buju was saying. This is the usual response when I speak out about the music that advocates for the death of the 'Chi-chi man,' the lesbian. She told me she would never play it at another gay party.

I thought that the response from the gay community when the song came out raised general awareness around the issue. I hoped it would dissuade young artists from creating those kinds of lyrics.

But the albums are hotter than ever. Most people who are not Jamaican don't even understand the lyrics, and that reggae beat can certainly charm any steady hips on the dance floor. I have had lesbian friends go out and buy these albums and play them at their own parties.

More than once, I have translated for my American contemporaries. The responses range from shock, to outrage, to a slight shrug of the dancing shoulders. Most people are only moderately disturbed. The album is usually put at the back of the pile not to be played for a little while.

Why do these songs do so well? Beenie Man, Bounty Killa, Red Rat, their albums sell underground, they sell in the mainstream, they sell everywhere. I was in Tirol, Austria, last summer and I had to ask that a song be stopped because I had my eleven year-old- sister with me, and I am trying to teach her that sexual choice is not reason to kill someone.

Last year PJ Patterson, head cook and bottle washer of the Jamaican government, responded to the queries of Amnesty International about the issue of law and homosexuality in Jamaica, with a statement that spoke for the majority of Jamaicans. He maintained that the "bullies of the north would not be allowed to tell Jamaica what to do with its murderers and its homosexuals."

What to do from these faraway shores of New York City? I challenge the woman in the doctor's office who says, "faggotism is a disease we need to be cured from." I demand that my close friends substantiate their opinions as to why homosexuality is a sin. If I ever meet Patterson, I am going to ask him why he has done nothing to change the unjust laws in Jamaica.

It is a tiring position to take. You answer all kinds of ignorant questions. Over and over again. When it gets too much, I take a holiday. A few days off and then I am ready again.

Now and then I am rewarded with a rastaman on the train telling me he couldn't care less what who do with who. He is just here for the livity. Life is life, he tells me, and when Selassie I come back fi I and I, is only I and I response fi what I an I did choose fi do with I an I own life.

Till next time,

I and I, Staceyann Chin