Joshua Rowsey was a polyglot.
I recently learned that word. Apparently, it means 'able to speak multiple languages'.
And while Josh did speak English and Chinese (while also learning enough Cherokee to teach native children how to freestyle in their own language!), that's not what I'm talking about.
Josh also spoke a number of creative languages. He was fluent in music, poetry, comedy, teaching, acting, and so much more. Pierce Freelon wrote a moving tribute that touched on some of that in the Indy Week, which you can read here: http://bit.ly/3Wg6U7W
But, I'm not talking about that either.
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Joshua Rowsey didn't like Hamilton.
This may surprise folks who were lucky enough to watch him masterfully perform My Shot with a symphony at the Koka Booth in 2017. When he performed it, he'd never seen Hamilton. Tickets were almost impossible to come by back then (and still now), so he didn't end up seeing Hamilton until years later when he caught it on Disney+.
Josh felt that Hamilton was "mid at best". He wondered why hip hop aesthetics were used to glorify men of war and selfishness. Something didn't feel authentic to him about the whole thing and he was very interested in having discussions with folks who both agreed and disagreed with his assessment, because he wondered if others were seeing something he wasn't seeing. Josh was always ready to have a deeper discussion and he wanted everyone at the table for the debate.
Ironically, I now can't help but think of Hamilton as we remember Josh.
---------
"Let me tell you what I wish I'd known
When I was young and dreamed of glory
You have no control
Who lives, who dies, who tells your story
And when you're gone, who remembers your name?
Who keeps your flame?
Who tells your story?"
For the past week+, I've been watching the tributes for Josh pour in after his shocking and unexpected passing from a sudden heart attack. What's been most striking to me (yet not surprising), is the incredible diversity of those who are feeling the monumental loss.
Josh's loss is being felt by children, by teens, by young adults, and by elders. Josh's loss is being felt in the poorest urban street corners and the richest suburban enclaves. Josh's loss is being felt among grammy winners and stand-up comics. Josh's loss is being felt by those who knew him for years and those who knew him for days.
---------
Joshua Rowsey was a polyglot.
Josh spoke the languages of curiosity, compassion, creativity, truth, and Love. He spoke these languages through any creative outlet he could find. And it turns out that Love connects with people of all ages, races, cultures, and orientations. Love builds bridges between disparate islands. Love unifies and heals.
When I learned that Josh passed away last week, my spirit immediately brought to mind images of the recent Baltimore bridge collapse. I imagined the bridge coming down suddenly and all of us left on our own individual islands looking out onto the water separated and in shock.
---------
Joshua Rowsey was a bridge.
It's not easy being a bridge. When you're a bridge, you are very often reminded that you don't 'belong' anywhere by those who are firmly entrenched on their islands.
Josh was once told that his voice was "too white" to rap. He powered through that criticism to become one of the most appreciated freestylers in the community.
Josh was once told that black people can't swim. He powered through that criticism to break swim team records in school.
You can't be a rapper AND an academic. You can't be a school teacher AND a comedian. There were a lot of folks trying to sequester Josh to an island, but he proved that he didn't have to be pigeon holed and neither do you.
Being stereotyped on all sides in his early life was incredibly painful. He never forgot what it felt like to be excluded. And so he made sure that, in as much as he could possibly have any say in it, no one was ever going to feel like they didn't belong in whatever room he was ever in.
---------
Joshua Rowsey was Love.
For Josh, life was a joy and a gift and a celebration and YOU were invited. He was so happy to see you. He wanted to learn and grow and he wanted to share what he was learning with you. He wanted to know what you thought and how you felt. He wanted to challenge you and he wanted you to challenge him. YOU WERE LOVED. He was cheering for you. And he wanted you to know it.
To me, that is Josh's enduring legacy and the challenge Josh leaves to the rest of us for as long as we have life on this earth. How can we better welcome and celebrate those who are in our orbit? How can we make sure that everyone knows that they are invited and embraced in whatever room we happen to share with them at any given time?
---------
The first two mornings after Josh's loss, I prayed for any signal of Josh's comfort from The Beyond. Both mornings, I ended up driving behind a car with "RAP" in the license plate. I laughed and could hear Josh's voice saying, "Pop Quiz: What's the difference between rap and hip-hop?"
As I sat crying and laughing in the McDonalds drive-thru, I said, "Rap is a genre of music. Hip hop is a culture. Everyone is invited to the table. We become connected through our stories and truth." Josh said, "Well, then I guess my work is done."
Thank you, Josh. Thank you for everything.
I recently learned that word. Apparently, it means 'able to speak multiple languages'.
And while Josh did speak English and Chinese (while also learning enough Cherokee to teach native children how to freestyle in their own language!), that's not what I'm talking about.
Josh also spoke a number of creative languages. He was fluent in music, poetry, comedy, teaching, acting, and so much more. Pierce Freelon wrote a moving tribute that touched on some of that in the Indy Week, which you can read here: http://bit.ly/3Wg6U7W
But, I'm not talking about that either.
---------
Joshua Rowsey didn't like Hamilton.
This may surprise folks who were lucky enough to watch him masterfully perform My Shot with a symphony at the Koka Booth in 2017. When he performed it, he'd never seen Hamilton. Tickets were almost impossible to come by back then (and still now), so he didn't end up seeing Hamilton until years later when he caught it on Disney+.
Josh felt that Hamilton was "mid at best". He wondered why hip hop aesthetics were used to glorify men of war and selfishness. Something didn't feel authentic to him about the whole thing and he was very interested in having discussions with folks who both agreed and disagreed with his assessment, because he wondered if others were seeing something he wasn't seeing. Josh was always ready to have a deeper discussion and he wanted everyone at the table for the debate.
Ironically, I now can't help but think of Hamilton as we remember Josh.
---------
"Let me tell you what I wish I'd known
When I was young and dreamed of glory
You have no control
Who lives, who dies, who tells your story
And when you're gone, who remembers your name?
Who keeps your flame?
Who tells your story?"
For the past week+, I've been watching the tributes for Josh pour in after his shocking and unexpected passing from a sudden heart attack. What's been most striking to me (yet not surprising), is the incredible diversity of those who are feeling the monumental loss.
Josh's loss is being felt by children, by teens, by young adults, and by elders. Josh's loss is being felt in the poorest urban street corners and the richest suburban enclaves. Josh's loss is being felt among grammy winners and stand-up comics. Josh's loss is being felt by those who knew him for years and those who knew him for days.
---------
Joshua Rowsey was a polyglot.
Josh spoke the languages of curiosity, compassion, creativity, truth, and Love. He spoke these languages through any creative outlet he could find. And it turns out that Love connects with people of all ages, races, cultures, and orientations. Love builds bridges between disparate islands. Love unifies and heals.
When I learned that Josh passed away last week, my spirit immediately brought to mind images of the recent Baltimore bridge collapse. I imagined the bridge coming down suddenly and all of us left on our own individual islands looking out onto the water separated and in shock.
---------
Joshua Rowsey was a bridge.
It's not easy being a bridge. When you're a bridge, you are very often reminded that you don't 'belong' anywhere by those who are firmly entrenched on their islands.
Josh was once told that his voice was "too white" to rap. He powered through that criticism to become one of the most appreciated freestylers in the community.
Josh was once told that black people can't swim. He powered through that criticism to break swim team records in school.
You can't be a rapper AND an academic. You can't be a school teacher AND a comedian. There were a lot of folks trying to sequester Josh to an island, but he proved that he didn't have to be pigeon holed and neither do you.
Being stereotyped on all sides in his early life was incredibly painful. He never forgot what it felt like to be excluded. And so he made sure that, in as much as he could possibly have any say in it, no one was ever going to feel like they didn't belong in whatever room he was ever in.
---------
Joshua Rowsey was Love.
For Josh, life was a joy and a gift and a celebration and YOU were invited. He was so happy to see you. He wanted to learn and grow and he wanted to share what he was learning with you. He wanted to know what you thought and how you felt. He wanted to challenge you and he wanted you to challenge him. YOU WERE LOVED. He was cheering for you. And he wanted you to know it.
To me, that is Josh's enduring legacy and the challenge Josh leaves to the rest of us for as long as we have life on this earth. How can we better welcome and celebrate those who are in our orbit? How can we make sure that everyone knows that they are invited and embraced in whatever room we happen to share with them at any given time?
---------
The first two mornings after Josh's loss, I prayed for any signal of Josh's comfort from The Beyond. Both mornings, I ended up driving behind a car with "RAP" in the license plate. I laughed and could hear Josh's voice saying, "Pop Quiz: What's the difference between rap and hip-hop?"
As I sat crying and laughing in the McDonalds drive-thru, I said, "Rap is a genre of music. Hip hop is a culture. Everyone is invited to the table. We become connected through our stories and truth." Josh said, "Well, then I guess my work is done."
Thank you, Josh. Thank you for everything.
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