Dear Reader:
There’s so much in a name. My father gave me his name: Lonnie Lynn. But he and my mother also gave me another—Rashid—the name I go by to my friends and family, and the name I go by with you. (After all, you know just about everything about me now!) Rashid means “guide to the right path” in Arabic. By giving me that name, my parents saw fit to fuse the Muslim with the Christian. That’s what I am, a fusion of spirit. I embrace the name in all that it means; I accept it as a birthright. I want to be that guide to the right path. I want to illuminate that path through my victories and my mistakes, my laughter and my cries, my strong days and my fears, my darkness and my light.
Rashid is a name mostly hidden from public view. I rose to fame on another name. Common is a name of my own creation; I brought that particular me into being. There’s a power in that. Every superhero has an alter ego, a name he attaches to his powers. Peter Parker is Spider-Man. John Stewart is the Green Lantern. Perhaps there’s something to that transformation that brings them power. Common is my vessel; Rashid is my anchor. It connects me to the people who know me and love me the most. It connects me to my soul.
So nowadays they call me Common. They used to call me Common Sense. People close to me have always just called me Rashid. Of course, Common is Rashid—they both are me. And Rashid is often Common these days. I have a tough time not letting Rashid come out through Common. I guess the only difference is that Common allows me to be more boastful, more vocal with my thoughts, and bolder with my actions. Rashid would never say how nice he is, but Common sure would.
People who know me only as Common might find it hard to believe some of the things that made me Rashid. That’s partly why I’ve written this book, so that I can show myself as a man in full. That means telling some tough truths, revealing my faults and vulnerabilities. But it also means showing the true strength of my character.
As Common, I’ve often been classified as a conscious artist. I take that as a compliment. Conscious means aware. When I think about the conscious artists throughout history, I think of Bob Marley. I think of John Coltrane. I think of KRS-One. These artists are conscious artists because they spoke up when silence would have been the easier route. They were the nerve center of our culture—awake when others were sleepwalking. I’m committed to being that kind of artist, both as a rapper and as an actor. I want to be a voice of awareness pushing us all to stay awake.
The only problem with being labeled a conscious artist is that people assume that’s all you are, that you’re not also a complex and flawed individual. Just because I might write a song that speaks up for awareness doesn’t mean I haven’t made mistakes and that I’m not going to continue making more mistakes on my journey through life.
Sometimes Common isn’t big enough—isn’t broad enough—to fit Rashid. Yes, I’m a conscious artist, but I’ve also seen some street shit—even done a little bit of it. But what’s the purpose of talking about the dirt I did in my rhymes? I didn’t grow up with the mind-set that you should take pride in your wrongs, that your dirt should be the subject of public discussion. Just the opposite. In Chicago you kept your dirt underneath your feet. No matter what side of the law you call home, you keep your business on a need-to-know basis. Like my father used to say, the real gangsters are in church with their families on Sunday, not out on the streets talking shit.
I’m not saying I’m any type of gangster, but what I am saying is that I’ve been witness to life from every angle. I made a conscious decision early in my career to focus on growth and positivity. I wanted to talk about the light at the end of the tunnel, not just the tunnel. If I don’t talk about us making it to the light, then some people may never see it. And talking about it reminds me that it’s there, too. I choose to make music and films with positive vibrations because that’s what I want for my life and the lives of others. In my own life, I still deal with the negativity sometimes, but I don’t choose to reflect that in the art I put out into the world. I strive to be a conscious artist because I strive to be a balanced human being on my path toward the light.
What are you here for? Like anybody in the entertainment industry, I want the attention and accolades. I want the awards and the recognition. But I also know that my greater purpose goes beyond all of that. A long time ago I made a conscious decision as an artist and as a human being that I would strive to do things with purpose. From then on, my aim has been to inspire and to raise consciousness.
I knew that I wanted to work for the betterment of others. It started with seeking the betterment of black people because that was my community. You start by doing for your people, for your tribe. That doesn’t mean that you have to do so at the expense of others. As I’ve grown, as I’ve traveled, as I’ve broadened my views, I’ve begun working for the betterment of all people. This is the story I’ve strived to tell you. This is where Rashid and Common become one.
Love,
Rashid