Dear Boyz II Men, I’m Not Mad Anymore

Posted on December 23, 2008
Filed Under Daily, Little Sabreen | 1 Comment

“Fame is very fleeting if you believe in your own print.
Tomorrow isn’t promised.”

-Legendary hurdler, Renaldo Nehemiah

When I was a kid, I wrote a letter to Boyz II Men.
They were the best R&B group that ever let their vocals run through the body of an in-studio microphone, and as a kid, I was a HUGE fan.
With every new album they released, I had one more cassette tape to add to my collection.

Although I don’t really listen to music anymore, (except for the occasional ‘jump on YouTube to see what Britney’s up to,’) when my sister and I were kids, my parents didn’t mind that we listened to music. They didn’t really care that I crushed on Donnie Wahlberg when I was 8, or that I wrote “Bobby Brown” on a sheet of computer paper with crayons and taped it to my wall.
They only had two rules: no t-shirts with any of the heartthrob’s faces, and no posters of them on our walls.

But they didn’t have any rules against us writing them letters.

When Boyz II Men released their album “End of the Road” in 1992, I was 10 years old.
Of course I bought it as quickly as I could get my hands on $9, and after I opened the case and shoved the cassette into the player, I started looking at the album’s inside cover.
To my complete and utter delight, they had printed their mailing address on the very bottom of the inside flap.
I couldn’t believe it!

I got out my favorite note pad and used my best 10-year-old hand writing to pen them a letter.
I told them how much I liked them, and how their music was so great. I told them that my birthday was coming up, and I even invited them to my house. I went track by track through their album and told them which songs were my favorites.
I told them what school I went to, who my teacher was, that I had an older sister, and I couldn’t wait to see them in October at the community center for my pool party.

AND THEY WROTE ME BACK!

About a week later I got a letter in the mail, which was exciting enough when you’re 10, but I nearly choked on my Gushers when I saw that the letter was from them!
I ran up to my room to read it in private, and when I was done, I walked into the hallway and stopped dramatically at the top of the stairs.
I came down the stairs slowly (as to ensure I emitted the proper amount of swagger with each step I took,) and then held the letter in the air in silence.
My mom and sister were doing something that didn’t involve paying attention to me, so I cleared me throat and made the announcement.

“Boyz II Men wrote me a letter.”

Without even looking up from whatever it was she was doing, my sister Uzma very nonchalantly said, “That’s not really from them.”

“Yes it is!” I snapped back.
She looked up.
“No, it’s not.”

She was 12, and for a moment I wondered if she knew what she was talking about.
Did she learn something in 6th grade that Mrs. Shaffer hadn’t covered in 4th grade yet?

I looked at the paper in my hand and saw each of the four signatures at the bottom of the letter.

“They signed it,” I argued.
“No they didn’t,” she said. “Those are all stamps. They send all their fans generic letters.”

The next day at school, I asked some of my friends a “hypothetical” question.
They all maintained that most letters from famous people were generic, but one kid in my class said he knew that the letter Michael Jordan sent him was real.

I was totally disheartened, but finally accepted the fact that not only did Boyz II Men not write that letter, but they probably didn’t even read the one I sent them.
My mom explained to me that when you get really famous it’s hard to keep up with everything people send you, but it didn’t mean that they didn’t care.

When I got my first job out of college, I was working as a reporter at a local paper. As time went on, and I started to think more seriously about where my career could take me, I knew I needed to reach out to veterans in the field. I wanted to talk to reporters and columnists that I really admired, who were working at papers that I dreamt of working at, but after the major trauma I suffered with the whole Boyz II Men thing, I wasn’t sure if my heart could take another generic response to a letter I sent.

But I went ahead and gave it a shot anyway, and the first reporter I e-mailed was Robin Givhan from The Washington Post.
If you’re not sure who she is, then you’re missing out on some of the greatest fashion-on-culture-essays, and near genius wit, known to modern man.
She is a Pulitzer-prize winning columnist, and my hero.
And she’s also famous.
Like, Big-Time.

Anyway, I e-mailed her.
I e-mailed a Pulitzer-prize winning columnist for one of the biggest papers in the world.
And World, guess what?

SHE E-MAILED ME BACK.

I could feel the butterflies fill up in my stomach and flutter into my chest.
I HAD AN E-MAIL FROM ROBIN GIVHAN IN MY INBOX.
And it wasn’t generic! She addressed every topic I asked about, she answered every question I had, and she even gave me advice of her own accord.

I swore NEVER to delete that e-mail.

I started digging through my work e-mail and finding stupid pointless e-mails that I had written off. I responded to every single one – the least I could do was acknowledge that I had gotten them.
I set a new standard for myself – I was going to care, even if I didn’t.

Ever since I started this blog, I’ve contacted bloggers I read hoping someone might pull a “Robin Givhan,” and sort of point me in the right direction out here in this vast blogging universe. For a while, I didn’t get much response, and then one day, I got a note in my inbox from Mindy. I’ve mentioned before, that I love to read parenting blogs, so you can imagine my excitement when I got an e-mail written by a woman who’s also a panelist on Momversation (which I’m crazy about). It was a really kind gesture and the e-mail was filled with words of encouragement and ideas for my site.

I’m not one to make New Year’s resolutions, but World, I think this year, we should all make a committment to help someone without expecting anything in return.
I mean, did a veteran fashion columnist really think she’d get something in return for helping me?
“Hey Robin, come on over sometime, and we’ll sit down so I can show you how to differenciate between real Versace and a knock-off.”

I think it’s time that everyone out there take a teeny tiny bit of time to reach out and help the little guy.
Because once upon a time, all of us, were the little guy, too.

Comments

One Response to “Dear Boyz II Men, I’m Not Mad Anymore”

Mindy on December 23rd, 2008 1:54 pm

I couldn’t tell the difference between a real or fake Versace if my life depended on it. In fact, it took me years to realize that the scarf I received when my grandmother died was by Hermes.

I believe in promoting and connecting and opening doors for people with promise and originality. You’re talented, and besides, I just like knowing smart, witty women.

Never miss an opportunity to do a favor that you can feel good about—it all comes around in the end. I’ll be watching from here—I know you’ll do well!