Nipsey Hussle and a Letter to Our Young
Originally published at When We Listen.net
April 9, 2019
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
No doubt these words have been repeatedly shared with Nipsey Hussle’s family and close friends. I, however, want to extend this sentiment to all the young people who followed his career, tried to emulate his style or was inspired by his philanthropy. His dedication to providing economic uplift was a true example of hope and reclaiming and revitalizing long-neglected neighborhoods.
For you, the fatal shooting of the 33-year-old Grammy-nominated rapper (born Ermias Asghedom) must have been a gut-kick to the soul. It was a high-profile reminder that those who look like you, sound like you, feel and dream like you are still expendable, still endangered from so-called “protectors,” strangers or friends who live outside and inside your communities.
I am so sorry you’ve lost someone from the hip-hop community who used his heart, his music and celebrity-hood to remind his peers and followers that they can still do their thing, express their passions with all its grit, harshness and glory yet still help those who share your hue and childhood experiences.
I didn’t know Hussle like you did. For me, he was one of many young rappers I’ve been following since the release of my book last month. Hussle was among the rappers, I maintain, out there creating powerful new narratives of do-for-self economics, community ownership and collective wealth building. He was one of the shining stars I mention in Chapter Eight, who use their fame and platforms to “encourage their young fans to reclaim their lives and communities.”
This is the motivation behind this letter. I know you knew the entertainer differently, more intimately. You memorized his lyrics, watched his videos and internalized his philosophies. You saw him at award ceremonies and took note of his interactions with other hip-hop artists and the media. You studied his evolution from gang member to Grammy-winner to neighborhood philanthropist.
For many of you, Nispsey helped you believe in yourself and your people. He reflected that inherent seed of greatness, creativity and tenacity within you, that reminds all of us that we’re here for a reason.
I want you to grieve. I expect you to be angry that a simple war-of-words resulted in such a tragic and unnecessary death. I understand if you’re grappling with supreme disappointment in people who may look like you but are still locked in a psychotic mindset of self-inflicted violence. I understand if you have that ‘what’s the use” attitude from seeing someone you admired murdered while trying to “do good” in neighborhoods deemed “bad.”
My prayer is that you articulate your pain privately or publicly through art, music, poetry, spoken word or song. But, please, please don’t be misled, distracted or disillusioned. Resist those who will attempt to pathologize, normalize or define you, your genre or your communities by the least common denominators.
Remember, Hussle was you and his legacy can live on through you. Like other hip-hop artists, you, too have the potential to dream, create and inspire, like Nipsey, in ways large or small.
Hussle wanted to stir a black-owned business movement by investing millions in a strip mall located in the neighborhood of his youth. There, he opened several stores, including his Marathon Clothing enterprise. He was involved in a venture designed to teach young people science, technology and math skills. In addition, he was helping with a 1.3-mile open-air museum project that would feature art and design exhibits celebrating black history and culture.
Hussle had big, bold ambitions. He not only planned to work with other black community leaders to stimulate business opportunities for black people nationwide, he was trying to improve relations between police and the demographics of color they are mandated to serve. Los Angeles Police Commissioner, Steve Soboroff, held a press conference where he read an email from Hustle requesting a meeting with him, representatives from Jay-Z’s Roc Nation and LA police officials:
“Our goal is to work with the department to help improve communication, relationships and work towards changing the culture and dialogue between LAPD and the inner-city,” Hussle wrote, adding, “We want to hear about your new programs and your goals for the department as well as how we can stop gang violence and help you help kids.”
That meeting, Soboroff said, will be held even in the wake of Hussle’s death.
Even in death, my young friends, his work doesn’t have to end. You can do your dead-level best to rise to the challenges Hussle attempted to address.
You are due a huge apology from your elders. The generation before and after mine have failed you. In the search of newly-given 1960s-era integration opportunities, we abandoned our businesses, our neighborhoods and you. We left you to fend for yourselves while in the clutches of broken economic, educational and criminal justice systems. Many of us blame you for the trauma, crime and chaos caused by our abandonment and our stubborn, confused refusal to reclaim and revitalize what was once “ours.”
Your generation is finally starting to break free of this arrested mentality. With the DNA of resistance, persistence and the mantra of “making a way out of no way” embedded in you, you have managed to create a musical genre that is just as hypnotic, just as influential, potent, provocative and just as lucrative as classical, blues, jazz, rock & roll or rhythm & blues music.
Superstars of rap are now bodaciously using their talent and money to show you how to “buy the block,” like T. I., build affordable houses, like Queen Latifah, develop new apps, like Jay-Z and Diddy, invest in young entrepreneurs like Chamillionaire and create high-tech, climate-friendly jobs and bring economic freedom to African nations, like Akon. I beg you to listen and learn from them.
This is your time; your moment but it is fleeting. There is but a narrow window, like prior generations who compromise their values for comfort; tolerate injustice for the illusion of security or choose silence in response to overwhelming and mounting forms of inhumanity.
Yes, I am sorry for your loss, but I besiege you; don’t allow Hussle’s death to kill your defiant spirit. Mourn but keep moving. Grieve but keep creating. Keep combating insurmountable odds. Dream with the heart-felt conviction that you, too, like Nipsey Hussle, can incentivize and legitimize the hip-hop hustle for the benefit of your peers and the betterment of us all.
Sylvester Brown, Jr. is a former columnist for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, the founder of the Sweet Potato Project, an entrepreneurial program for urban youth and the author of the newly released book “When We Listen: Recognizing the Potential of Urban Youth.”
