by Kevin Powell
March 23rd, 2011
Dear Chris:
I really did not want to write this open letter, and would have preferred to
speak to you in person, in private. Indeed, ever since the domestic violence
incident with Rihanna two years ago there have been attempts, by some of the
women currently or formerly in your circle, women who love and care deeply
about you, to bring you and I together, as they felt my own life story, my
own life experiences, might be of some help in your journey. For whatever
reasons, that never happened. By pure coincidence, I wound up in a Harlem
recording studio with you about three months ago, as I was meeting up with
R&B singer Olivia and her manager. You were hosting a listening session for
your album-in-progress and the room was filled with gushing supporters, with
a very large security guard outside the studio door. I was allowed in, as I
assume you knew my name, and my long relationship to the music industry. I
greeted you and said I would love to have a talk with you, but I am not even
sure you heard a single word I said above the loud music. I gave your
security person my card when I left, asked him to ask you to phone me, but
you never did, for whatever reasons. And that is fine.
Kevin Powell is an activist,
public speaker, and award-winning author or editor of 10 books, including
Open Letters to America
(essays) and No Sleep Till Brooklyn
(poetry). Kevin lives in Brooklyn, New York. Email him at
kevin@kevinpowell.net or follow
him on Twitter @kevin_powell
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