What This Theme Explores
Identity and Self-Discovery in The Crossover examines how a young person’s sense of self is built from talent, family, and image—and what happens when those foundations crack. For protagonist Josh Bell, identity begins as a swaggering, public persona: a nickname, a look, a twin bond, a game. The novel asks how identity survives jealousy, separation, and grief, and whether a self shaped by applause can endure in silence. Ultimately, it argues that a lasting identity grows inward—from character, love, and resilience—rather than outward from recognition.
How It Develops
At the outset, Josh’s identity feels airtight. On the court he is Filthy McNasty—fast, lyrical, and unmistakable with his long locks—and off the court, he’s one half of an unbeatable team with Jordan 'JB' Bell. The confidence of this persona rests on visible markers and a cherished lineage: he models his “wings” after his father, Chuck "Da Man" Bell, and channels his dominance into a rhyme-heavy bravado that makes being “Filthy” feel like destiny.
Midway through, fractures appear. JB begins pursuing a relationship with Alexis, and the twins’ once-seamless identity splits into separate desires and schedules. An accidental haircut slices away several of Josh’s locks, a small physical change that triggers a spiraling internal doubt: if he can’t look like the player he believes he is, can he still be that player? His anger over the growing distance from his brother leads to a costly mistake and a suspension, and even his nickname starts to sound like a costume he’s not sure he wants to wear. The persona that used to unify his life now isolates him from the people he loves most.
In the final stretch, family crisis refocuses Josh’s priorities. With his father’s health failing, Josh consciously asks to be called by his given name—an act of peeling back the performance to reach the person underneath. He begins rebuilding his identity around care, grief, and shared legacy rather than highlights and hype. The climactic exchange of his father’s championship ring and the brothers’ united “We Da Man” reframes identity as something held in common, not hoarded—less a spotlight than a torch passed and carried together.
Key Examples
-
Initial Self-Definition: In the opening poems, Josh proudly names himself into being, entwining skill, nickname, and fame into a single identity. The rhyme’s bravado shows how performance and self-image fuse for him—and how captivating that fusion can be.
Josh Bell
is my name.
But Filthy McNasty is my claim to fame.
Folks call me that
’cause my game’s acclaimed,
so downright dirty, it’ll put you to shame. -
The Importance of Hair: In Five Reasons I Have Locks, Josh ties his locks to individuality, twin differentiation, and his father’s “wings.” Hair functions as a living archive of ambition and belonging; keeping it becomes a way of keeping himself.
2. it helps people know
that I am me and not JB.
But
mostly because- ever since I watched
the clip of Dad...
his long twisted hair like wings...
I knew
one day
I’d need
my own wings
to fly.
- ever since I watched
-
The Loss of Identity: After JB accidentally cuts off five locks in Cut, Josh counts the strands “plus one tear,” signaling a wound deeper than appearance. In Boy walks into a room, even “Filthy” rings hollow, suggesting that the name that once empowered him now estranges him from himself.
-
Shedding the Persona: At the hospital, Josh tells his father he no longer wants to be called “Filthy,” choosing the vulnerability of his given name over the safety of a persona. This moment marks a conscious shift from external validation to an identity anchored in honesty and love.
I prefer to be called Josh, Dad.
Not Filthy.
...
I’m serious, Dad—please don’t call me
that name anymore. -
A New, Shared Identity: In Free Throws, JB gives Josh their father’s championship ring, and Josh replies, “We Da Man.” The exchange transforms legacy from an individual crown to a communal bond, redefining success as something sustained by brotherhood.
Character Connections
Josh’s journey is the book’s emotional core. When the visible pillars of his identity—locks, nickname, team role, twinship—are threatened, he initially responds with anger and retreat. By choosing his given name and embracing shared grief, he discovers a steadier self built on responsibility, empathy, and inner confidence.
JB both catalyzes and completes this transformation. His pursuit of life outside the twin dyad affirms his individuality, which inadvertently destabilizes Josh’s sense of self. Yet JB also becomes the partner in reconstruction, offering the ring and the renewed promise of a brotherhood that allows for difference as well as unity.
Chuck “Da Man” embodies the allure and limits of a legend. His storied identity inspires his sons, but his reluctance to face his illness reveals how a fixed persona can become a trap. In death, his legacy evolves from boast to blessing, giving the boys a heritage they can reinterpret rather than merely replicate.
Alexis functions as a test of the twins’ once-seamless identity. Her relationship with JB pushes both brothers to articulate who they are apart from each other, exposing the painful but necessary work of growing into separate, authentic selves.
Symbolic Elements
Josh’s Dreadlocks: The locks signify agency, lineage, and flight—his chosen “wings.” Losing them dramatizes the shock of identity rupture and the need to reconstruct the self without familiar markers.
Nicknames (“Filthy McNasty,” “Da Man”): These titles are power suits—energizing on the court but potentially constraining off it. Josh’s rejection of “Filthy” marks a move from performance to personhood, while his father’s nickname shows how tightly held images can both inspire and imprison.
The Championship Ring: A portable legacy and a measure of worth. Passed to Josh, it becomes less a trophy of past dominance than a pledge to carry forward resilience, love, and shared responsibility.
Contemporary Relevance
For adolescents navigating sports, social media, or family expectations, the pressure to compress identity into a single brand is intense. The Crossover insists that what you do is not all you are, and that change—even painful change—can deepen rather than diminish you. It also speaks to the complexities of sibling bonds: how closeness can blur boundaries, and how healthy growth requires both connection and space. In an era of public personas, Josh’s turn toward a quieter, sturdier self offers a model of integrity over image.
Essential Quote
I prefer to be called Josh, Dad.
Not Filthy.
...
I’m serious, Dad—please don’t call me
that name anymore.
This is the hinge of Josh’s transformation: he renounces the armor of a nickname to claim the vulnerability of his real name. The moment reframes identity as a deliberate choice rather than a performance thrust upon him, and it anchors the novel’s argument that true selfhood is forged in honesty, love, and loss.
