I had my mask on so you couldn't see the grin from ear to ear while this was going on.
Man, it's‑‑ it's incredible.
I‑‑ I really thank you.
So, class of 2020.
Waguan!
( CHEERS AND APPLAUSE ).
You always have a Jamaican in here somewhere, man.
Distinguished guests‑‑ hold on, I need the glasses, because I can't see.
(~LAUGHTER~)
I got the cool glasses and then the reading glasses.
(~LAUGHTER~)
Distinguished guests, class of 2020, thank you all for having me.
I've always wondered what it would be like to attend college.
( LAUGHTER )
Kind of experience it a little bit today.
What would the experience...
The experience be.
I was never blessed with the opportunity.
I couldn't afford it.
I would have loved to have gotten a college experience and received a higher education.
See, I'm from a single‑parent family.
I was raised by my mom and partly by my grandmother.
Like most Jamaican inner city families, dads weren't always present.
I'm from a small fishing village in the downtown area of Kingston called Rae Town.
A place made famous for the birth of the sound system.
Any Jamaican or Caribbean people in here?
( CHEERING )
Y’all would know the significance of the sound system to dancehall and reggae culture.
I have always had music in my blood, even though no one else my family ever did music.
So it wasn't surprising to me that music would be my path.
After all I was so passionate about it.
And you know what they say you can't excel at anything without passion.
I love Toots and the Maytals, Jimmy Cliff, Bob Andy, Dennis Brown, and
of course the great Bob Marley.
I admired Super Cat. Any dance hall fans in here would know that.
Josie Wales, Barrington Levy.
These were my reggae dancehall heroes.
I remember one night going to a place called Skate
Land in Kingston and I watched an artist called Yellow Man.
On that night, I caught the bug.
Yellow Man was an albino guy, who at the time was the reigning sensation in dancehall.
I saw him spit a few lyrics and the crowd went wild.
He walked out of the dance, and the whole crowd walked out to dance.
And I said to myself, “Damn, I want to be that guy."
My mother worked at the local newspaper, the Daily Gleaner,
after which she migrated to the United States and landed in the Flatbush area of Brooklyn.
Brooklyn in the house!
New York!
( CHEERS AND APPLAUSE )
Now, that was a culture shock.
I was introduced to cultures from Haiti,
Trinidad, Panama, Barbados, Guyana, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic.
It was one big melting pot.
And they all had one thing in common.
They all loved reggae and dancehall music.
Though reggae and dancehall was the main music of my country, and had developed
a large appeal and following within the New York diaspora, it wasn't mainstream.
And it was starting to look like my dreams
of a successful career in reggae and dancehall was pretty dismal.
My mother grew frustrated of my efforts.
We started to bump heads and I knew at that point I got to get out of her house.
So, I decided to enlist in the military, the United States Marines.
( APPLAUSE )
Thank you.
I served in the Gulf War at Desert Storm.
And funny enough, I joined the military so I could get the G.I. Bill.
The G.I. Bill was a college fund offered to enlisted personnel.
And to me, the military became my college.
I felt like I belonged to something ‑‑ somewhat of an institution.
Every time someone came up to me and said, “Thank you for your service," I felt a sense of pride,
accomplishment, as if I actually graduated or something, you know.
By the time I was finished with my tour of duty, my music career was well under way.
You see, I used to drive 18 hours from—
to and from, from New York to Camp Lejeune, Jacksonville, North Carolina.
Every weekend, just to do records in Brooklyn.
I sometimes would drive in my uniform, so that if I got pulled over by— for speeding
by the state trooper, they would give me a warning because most of them were all
retired servicemen. ( phone ringing )
That wasn't me.
( APPLAUSE )
All phones off.
After I was discharged, one of the songs I recorded while in my uniform,
“Oh, Carolina" shot all the way to the British chart, and earned me my first number one
spot with a million‑dollar contract, at that, from Virgin Records. Yeah.
Ballin'!
At the time, no one in dancehall was getting that kind of money for their deals,
so it was the first of its kind.
I remember thinking to myself, hey, a million bucks.
Even if I never got another hit, I got a million bucks.
But little did I know, that was the first of many firsts.
Shortly after I wrote a song called “Mr. Bombastic."
This debuted at number one on the British chart.
It was the first time in the history
of dancehall or reggae that a dancehall record track would debut at the top of the charts.
After which, Virgin Records gave me another million.
I was like, mmm, I could get used to this.
“Mr. Bombastic" peaked at number two on the U.S. Billboard charts,
while “Summertime,” another track, made it to number three on the British chart.
Another first for dancehall,
having two songs top five on the charts in two different continents at the same time.
This was quite an accomplishment.
( APPLAUSE )
Thank you.
I went on to record “Hot Shot”‑‑ the “Hot Shot" album, which became the first and only
dancehall album, and the first and only number one dancehall album,
and the only diamond selling album in dancehall history to date.
Both “Angel" and “It Wasn’t Me" were number one records‑‑ they were at number one‑‑ they sold
about‑‑ they were at number one for record number of weeks and sold about 500,000.
That's gold of the week.
Yeah, that's pretty hot.
That's before streaming, by the way.
Hard copies, baby.
This is a time where Caribbean music wasn't even being played on radio.
You see, I realized early on that nothing showcased culture like
stars and nothing shifts cultures like superstars.
Because the odds were against me as a Caribbean artist doing dancehall and
reggae music, I knew I had to become not just a star, but a superstar,
a star with super hero‑like talent, personality, charisma, work ethic and presence.
I knew record labels weren't going to
invest money in a Caribbean act unless they produced numbers, sales.
So, I had to go 10 times harder, make music 10 times better and
more infectious than any other genre while getting 10 times less sleep.
All this to even have a fighting chance for a seat at the table.
We sold huge numbers and opened the door for the genre and gave the industry confidence
in investing in Caribbean acts such as Sean Paul, Wayne Wonder, Elephant Man to name a few.
Not bad for an inner city kid from Kingston who didn't use his G.I. Bill.
I had the mindset to go hard.
I always say I may not be the most talented but no one will outwork me.
So get ready, saddle up, because it's gonna be one hell of a ride.
And look at me, my journey still continues.
I'm here at Brown University accepting an honorary degree from an Ivy League school.
( CHEERS AND APPLAUSE ).
Part of the class of 2020, baby!
( CHEERS AND APPLAUSE )
So just so you know, that's life, and it only gets better.
I didn't just go‑‑ I didn't get to go to college, but I had an amazing journey.
I traveled around the world.
I've been to many cities, met many great people,
sat with great leaders and politicians and royalty.
I remember sitting at the table with the great Nelson Mandela
and feeling like I just met the closest thing to an actual god.
I remember his humility and how he made me feel like I was the only person in the room.
I remember getting a call from Michael Jackson to perform the Jackson Five 30th Anniversary
Celebration at Madison Square Garden, and Michal saying to me, “Did you write “It Wasn’t Me”?”
“That's my favorite song.
Sounds like something I would write.”
At that point, I was excited that he even knew my name or—, you know.
That was just crazy for me.
I remember meeting the queen, sitting with the Pope,
and even having the distinguished honor of meeting the lead singer of the police.
One advice my brother Sting told me in giving this speech,
he said, “Shaggy, tell them about your journey.
“You told it to me, and I was inspired."
My purpose here today is to inspire.
And I do so by sharing my journey.
We sometimes pull inspiration from the most unlikeliest people and situations.
I remember meeting the great James Brown, who sat me down,
who gave me one of the most profound sit‑downs ever that I've ever received.
I was on tour in Antwerp.
Did I say that right, Martin?
And we were on this tour with‑‑ it was me,
Joe Cocker, James Brown, The Pointer Sisters, Cyndi Lauper.
I was the youngest guy in the whole thing.
We were there for a whole month.
And every single night I came out on stage, they would bring
a chair to the side of the stage, and James Brown would sit down and do this.
Every single — And he did it to no one else but me every night.
So I always got away with calling him, “Hey, Godfather!”
And he was like, “Shaggy!”
Everybody walked by and said, “How do you do that?
We have to call him Mr. Brown."
One day he kicked my door open‑‑ didn't knock, kicked it open, my dressing room door.
He walked in.
There was a huge security guard behind him and he stood behind the door.
I seen James Brown.
He said, “Sit down.
I want to talk to you."
At that point I thought I was going to get a James Brown beat‑down.
Security would be out the door, James telling me to sit down.
Think to myself, did I mess his perm up or something?
I didn't know what was up.
He said, “Sit down, I want to talk to you.
Let me tell you something.
I've seen them come and I've seen them go.
I've been to your country, I rolled it up and smoked it with Marley.
You the truth.
Let them see both sides of you.
You funny.
Let me tell you something‑‑ they can take away your woman, your house, your car,
your money, but there's one thing they'll never take from you, and that's your talent.
( CHEERS AND APPLAUSE )
Because that was given to you by a higher being.”
He said, “Keep doing what you're doing.
God bless you."
And he walked out.
The thing that made that so profound for me is that I believed him.
And every time I'm in a position where I'm down,
I turn to my talent, and I tap into it and I master it.
And I'm always come up out back on top.
You should never stop dreaming or being inspired.
I'm inspired by all the great people who have touched my life,
and have helped me to realize that life is a gift and a privilege.
And we should always move with gratitude
and throughout its ups and downs, every day above ground is a good day.
You see, we're all here for different reasons.
And we all have different paths to take on our journey.
From day one, when we were born, we take our first breath, right.
And on the day we pass, we take our last breath.
So we only have a certain amount of breaths to take in our journey.
So, please, remember to breathe.
I know we all like to say we're kings and queens, and maybe we are.
But one thing for certain is that we are all servants.
We're here to perform a service to mankind, servants of God.
We're all given the tool to perform a service, a talent.
We're not here to achieve material things.
After all, we can't take them with us.
Our main purpose is to inspire and change people's lives.
That's our true purpose.
Every time I go on tour, there are 17 band members that come with me.
That's 17 mortgages, 17 school fee, electric bills, car payments,
all because I sing these songs.
The concession guys, the riggers, the security, the drivers,
the janitors ‑‑ they are all paying their bills because I decided to use my tool and serve.
So when it's all said and done, one thing I maintain is gratitude.
And I'm grateful that I was chosen to serve.
And I look forward to your journey in hopes that one day we'll meet again,
and I'll be able to say to you guys, “Thank you for your service."
( CHEERS AND APPLAUSE )