I Like How Jelly Rolls

On "quietly sitting and appreciating the message and the meaning."

Musician Jelly Roll testifies at a congressional hearing about fentanyl

Until last weekend, the only information I knew about the musician Jelly Roll was that he was a somewhat wayward youth who, as an adult, turned things around and created an incredible music program at the same Juvenile Hall he spent some time in as a kid. This was more than enough for me to develop a parasocial fondness for him. On a much smaller, less significant scale, I did something similar after getting sober: I started a creative writing program at the local Juvenile Hall.

I hadn’t given much thought to Jelly Roll’s sobriety or where he was in his substance use now—it’s clear that he’s significantly healthier and more functional than he was during the worst of his addiction, and that’s good enough for me.

On Sunday, the following headline caught my eye: “Jelly Roll Says Alcoholics Anonymous Meeting Inspired New Album Track ‘Winning Streak.’” I am a sucker for any time AA permeates mainstream culture. I was in “the Program” for many years and credit it with helping me through the first half of my now 16 years of sobriety; I also haven’t regularly attended meetings since roughly 2016. But I find AA—and how people feel about it—endlessly fascinating.

The story discusses a New York Times interview with Jelly Roll where he explains the genesis of a song, Winning Streak, on his forthcoming album. He was in an AA meeting when some kid was “going through it.” He tells the reporter, “One of the old men sitting in there was like: ‘Look, man. It’s all good. Nobody came in here on a winning streak.’ There it was. That was the beginning of ‘Winning Streak.’”

It’s a nice story and a familiar phrase for those of us who have spent time in “the rooms.” But the part of the interview that interested me was the following: 

I’m sitting in an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, and my deal is, I will have a cocktail every now and then and I’m a known weed smoker, but I got away from the drugs that I knew were going to kill me. It was really hard for me to get away from those drugs. Something I do to maintenance my relationship with those drugs is I still attend the meetings but I never share. I just quietly sit and appreciate the message and the meaning.

There are so many things I love about this.

“I’m sitting in an Alcoholics Anonymous Meeting...”

Technically, people in AA are supposed to be “anonymous at the level of press, radio, and film.”

I understand why some feel this is an important AA guideline. When it comes to protecting the anonymity of others, I think it’s fair to consider it a hard and fast rule. You never want to be the person who “outs” someone. 

But when it comes to what Jelly Roll did—outing himself—I think we can evaluate the appropriateness based on context and common sense. 

If you’re interested in reading AA founder Bill Wilson’s detailed thoughts on anonymity, you can find them here. The short version is essentially that the founders thought anonymity would put all members on equal ground, preventing individuals from becoming de facto AA celebrities, who might then personally capitalize on their exalted AA status. 

Instead of framing himself as a spokesperson for AA, however, Jelly Roll did precisely the opposite—and this is where we get into the stuff I find truly exciting. After telling us he used to have a heroin addiction and went through detox and rehab, he says: 

“I will have a cocktail every now and then and I’m a known weed smoker, but I got away from the drugs that I knew were going to kill me. It was really hard for me to get away from those drugs…Something I do to maintenance my relationship with those drugs is I still attend the meetings...”

AA meetings help him maintain his sobriety from opioids. While he may have become addicted to heroin, he can use alcohol and cannabis in a way that doesn’t have the same negative effects on his life. Because AA meetings help him abstain from the substance he was addicted to, he keeps going. 

This is a brave, important admission—one I’d like to see more of. Alcoholics Anonymous has a clearly defined “singleness of purpose.” In the words of Wilson, “Sobriety — freedom from alcohol — through the teaching and practice of the Twelve Steps is the sole purpose of an A.A. group.” 

Although some people in any given AA group will suggest that a person can’t use cannabis and still be a sober member of Alcoholics Anonymous, nothing in the literature or program of AA actually says that. In fact, it expressly says the opposite. 

Jelly Roll’s honesty about what substances he uses while still finding AA helpful is, in my opinion, really important. Not everyone is going to find AA’s program useful, but people who are trying to stop drinking shouldn’t feel unwelcome at a meeting because of their other substance use. I didn’t say it, Bill Wilson did. 

So what about Mr. Roll (this can’t be what I’m supposed to call him, but I can’t stop) having the occasional cocktail? AA also says, “The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking,” something Jelly admittedly doesn’t have. 

It would be one thing if he were an active participant in these meetings—taking up meeting time with his own story when he has no desire or need to stop using alcohol. But then he says the following about his meeting attendance:

 “I never share. I just quietly sit and appreciate the message and the meaning. This is the first time that I’ve talked about this publicly... It’s not a part of my story that I share because I have so much respect for the men and women in that program that get actually completely sober, that I never want my stuff to get in the way of them.”

I love it. It’s a beautiful example of how someone can benefit from AA by tailoring the meeting experience to their own needs without interfering with members doing a more traditional Twelve Step program. He’s letting meetings be what they’re supposed to be: safe spaces for people who want to stop using alcohol—even if he doesn’t fit that description himself.  

Plenty of people don’t connect with AA and never will, and that’s completely fine. It’s not for everyone. But AA meetings are free and widely accessible; if someone who doesn’t fit the precise AA mold can find what they need at a meeting while still respecting the group's mission and guidelines, I think we should celebrate it.

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