The first time I ever heard rapper Nipsey Hussle's name, it was a news story about his murder a few days ago. The second story was more interesting — and complicated. His life reminds me that goodness comes in many forms and we should all leave something worth praising behind when we go.
Among the people lauding Hussle and mourning his passing was Los Angeles County supervisor Mark Ridley-Thomas. CNN said he called Hussle an "inspiration to many." The LA police department tweeted that "we understand the community is mourning and we feel your loss." And LA Police Commissioner Steve Soboroff tweeted he was supposed to meet with Hussle this week at the rapper's request to "talk about ways he could help stop gang violence and help us help kids."
That's especially interesting because Hussle, who was born Ermias Asghedom, grew up in a rundown neighborhood in south central Los Angeles and had himself joined a street gang as a youth: the Rollin 60s Neighborhood Crips. The New York Times couched his gang affiliation this way: "... which he chalked up to history, circumstance and survival."
NBC News quoted an earlier interview: “'I’m not promoting it. I’m just speaking on it,'” he said in a 2010 interview with Complex. “'I’m more focused on giving solutions and inspiration more than anything.'”
That juxtaposition of earlier gang affiliation and police and other officials' admiration sent me on a search to learn more about the man. What I found reminds me that goodness can be both choice and circumstance. One's early history helps shape the future, but that doesn't mean there's a single road that one must take.
For the millions who followed him on social media but never met him, Hussle is apt to be a footnote over time, a rapper who never reached his full musical potential. But in his Crenshaw District neighborhood, I suspect he's more like a seed that was planted and likely will bloom in different, more enduring ways.
He didn't use the success he achieved to escape his roots in a rundown place where violence and poverty are incredibly common and seemingly intractable. He stayed and built and dreamed of a better future for those around him. One of the most interesting ways he invested in his community was a project called Vector90, billed on its website as "coworking space, cultural hub and incubator." For a fairly low fee that varies depending on whether one is young, in college or just someone who comes from the neighborhood, one can rent a spot to access high-speed internet, use conference rooms and printers and other business trappings and get to know others who want to succeed. Hussle's stated hope was encouraging entrepreneurship. He wanted to boost access to and proficiency in STEM (science, technology, engineering and math) so that young people could build futures with solid footing and leave poverty behind.
Many stories of his death quoted a Los Angeles Times interview last year: “In our culture, there’s a narrative that says, ‘Follow the athletes, follow the entertainers,'” he said. “And that’s cool, but there should be something that says, ‘Follow Elon Musk, follow (Mark) Zuckerberg.’"
I think you could follow Nipsey Hussle, who was actively working to create jobs and opportunities in his distressed, depressed neighborhood. He brought in businesses and was planning affordable housing. His neighbors, many of them strangers, said he was doing good things to build before he was torn down.
I suspect I'm going to leave this life as an always-law-abiding citizen. I'm certainly going to try. I'll follow the rules and love the people I know and try not to be destructive. But I'm not sure I'll be a builder or a dream-maker or a catalyst for change. I don't predict anyone will suggest putting "inspiration" on my grave.
A man I might have judged harshly for his past choices proved to be all of that and more. That's something I'll try never to forget.