A decade ago, Gerrick Kennedy was unexpectedly thrust into the spotlight. 

He was in Los Angeles covering the annual Clive Davis Pre-Grammy Party. He had worked feverishly to convince his editors that it was worth covering the reunion of Brandy and Monica. They were set to perform their newest duet, “It All Belongs to Me.” It was their first performance together since the release of their Grammy award-winning hit, “The Boy is Mine.”  

He was watching the ladies rehearse “The Boy Is Mine” when out of the corner of his eye he saw her; one of his biggest idols, Whitney Houston. She had appeared from out of nowhere. Two days later news broke that she had died in the bathtub of her hotel room.

“I was thrust into the spotlight because I was on the scene that weekend,” Kennedy told The Reckoning.

For a long time, though, that day was a burden on him. All he could think about was how he shared space with Houston, someone he loved and admired, for a brief moment. And then suddenly, she was dead. The next morning he was on national television, “The Today Show,” being interviewed by Matt Lauer. 

It was a turning point for him and his career. Since that time, Kennedy has been on a journey of finding his voice. With the release of “Didn’t We Almost Have It All,” his second book, he feels closer to himself than ever before. 

On the surface, the book fulfills what the inside flap claims it intends—exploring the life of Houston by dissecting the historical and cultural factors that brought her life to a halt in February 2012. Beyond the surface, the book serves a completely different purpose; one that Kennedy admits he has been trying to accomplish his entire career.

“It is really hard to be a journalist,” he said. “It is even harder to transition that identity—a journalist—into another—a cultural critic. At some point in my career, I realized that I was more than just a journalist. There were parts of me, who I am, and how I see the world as Black, as queer, and as a writer that influenced my writing. But others had no desire to give me permission to be anything other than what they wanted me to be; unless it benefited them.”

The kind of reporting he was being expected to produce, what he calls straight-ahead journalism without any consideration for cultural or historical context, was becoming burdensome for Kennedy. 

“That’s only what they wanted. That’s where they wanted to keep me,” he said. “This project is me telling them, really loudly, that this is who I have always been, what I have always been trying to get to, and have been struggling to find my way towards. The fact that I was able to do that with a close to 400-page book!”

In 2009, Kennedy graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in journalism from Ohio State University. That same year, he joined the staff of the Los Angeles Times as an intern. It was a dream come true—landing at the LA Times. At the time he stepped into the journalism industry, the LA Times was one of a handful of destination companies for print reporters/journalists. 

Landing a job at one of these publications straight out of undergrad was the equivalent of being drafted for one of the top professional sports teams. It meant recruiters felt you could compete with some of the biggest names in the industry. To some extent, the same is still true today. But a lot has changed. 

For Kennedy, it was a major career opportunity. But, the accomplishment also had its challenges. It took him years to realize he was writing at a high level. Yet, he wasn’t feeling valued in his newsroom. 

“Here I am getting the big cover stories, book deals. My star is beginning to rise outside of the newsroom, but I am making 30 to 50 percent less than everyone else on my team. That is how they place value on you.”

Eventually, Kennedy left the LA Times. Long gone were the days of allowing the external perceptions of others to define how he saw himself. While it was one of the most painful decisions he had to make in his career; in the end, the decision saved him. That and therapy. There was only one other thing for him to do.

“Let me go get this book deal,” he told himself. 

Becoming Unbound 

What he did not expect, however, was that finding his way would also include helping others find theirs. As he was working on his project, Kennedy was also journeying with Tarana Burke, founder of the #MeToo movement, as she was writing, and editing her memoir, “Unbound.” Burke credits Kennedy with the book's title. 

“It was really nice to have these two projects at the same time. Helping Tarana made me a stronger person,” he said. “Sitting with one of the most important activists to have ever lived, and carrying all the things I used to be afraid to say, it all gave me courage.”

For nearly eight months, all they did was talk. Before they did any writing, they spent time talking. Kennedy considers that time to be the most important. 

“It was such a unique experience,” he said. “I do not know how strong my book would have been if not for sitting with Tarana. Sitting with her every day, being in daily reflection with someone else who is also on a journey of seeking and releasing—everything was firing off at one time.”

For Kennedy, writing “Didn’t We Almost Have It All” saved him from trauma, fear, uncertainty, and doubt. It allowed him to heal, while at the same time forcing him to define his value.

“The person I was trying to become is the person I have become. It took a long time to get there,” he said. “My purpose is to document our culture as it happens, and connect what is happening to our past. From here on out, everything I do is for me. And what’s for me is to tell stories that motivate me, drive me, and compel me and others. Not because I need to, but because I have to.”