Josie graduated from Stanford University with a B.A. in Comparative Studies in Race and Ethnicity and an award-winning honors thesis. Josie works as a Musician-in-Residence at an expressive arts therapy program at UCSF.
Writing Sample
Seven years ago, when my father was in the final months of his illness, I sat by him as he drifted in and out of sleep. For hours on end, I’d gently improvise instrumental Hawaiian slack key guitar to help him rest through his pain and discomfort. Those tender moments were an initiation for me as a student of grief work, pastoral care, and the creative process.
By the time I was writing my college applications six months after my dad died, I struggled to get any work done. I could no longer see its relevance. I had journeyed with my dad to depths of emotion and the edges of aliveness, and since returning, the game of academic achievement had become unmistakably hollow. Desiring the chance to study something that felt like it reflected the realness and existentialism I experienced with my dad, I went to college intending to study philosophy.
When I finally left school five years later, I felt unrecognizable from the person I was when I arrived. I realized that what was most real for me was not philosophy – it was being present for mine and others’ processes of self-becoming. I used my last year in school to write a scholarly creative honors thesis to refine my greater purpose, or in other words, what I wanted to offer others. To write that thesis, I reached back to those moments caring for and losing my dad, back to stories of his grandparents and how they held contradictions in their shifting political identities, and back further to traditional wisdom on the importance of grief – expressing it and witnessing it as a way of repairing and preventing violence.
One important piece I learned while writing my thesis was the gift and responsibility of studenthood. I have taken my studenthood very seriously (and sometimes it’s helpful not to), since I believe it is rare to be able to be a student of something. Not just of a subject, but a dedication to your agency and power, to be constantly choosing how you live and embody rigorous practice in a way that connects your needs to the needs of the world. The teachers (scholars, artists, and friends) I’ve learned from while studying racialization, diaspora, and Indigeneity have shown me that you cannot be a student in isolation, and it takes keen and attentive peers and elders to deepen your studies. I reflect these intentions and experience to my mentees, bringing with me sensitive scaffolding, playful intuition, and a tender heart.
