Everybody's Brother (26 page)

I remember when people ran to avoid me, and now they run to shake my hand or get my autograph. Yet I am the same man. How can I explain that? Well, I am pretty sure that somewhere deep inside of my chest cavity, it’s painted that I was here before. That sounds artful, but here’s the bottom line: I was fated to write an entirely different life for myself. Being normal was not an option, so I had to become extraordinary.

I feel like the love that I’m getting now is a reciprocation of an even deeper, deeper love. I don’t think I’ve ever had the chance to say out loud how much I’m in love with what I do and the opportunity I’ve been given. In fact, today is probably the lightest my life has ever been. I feel young now, younger than when I was a child and things were so heavy. My journey started off uphill and eventually leveled off. I suppose some people get their toys early—and others like me just have to earn and enjoy them a little later.

It’s pretty miraculous how many different people like what I do and are into it so intimately. It’s gotten to the point where I’m not merely entertaining people anymore—I’m getting up under their skin in some other kind of way.

I hear from people all the time now who tell me that I give them hope that someone can be different and still be loved and appreciated on their own terms. Recently I was given an amazing photo book from Chicago of these challenged kids who were modeling and owning whatever
physical issues they were dealing with—like missing limbs and others things that used to be called physical defects. It was very moving to see. I may not be that different, but somehow I represent those kids in the world today. I wonder sometimes if I appear deformed to people. That is not how I see myself. Personally, I think the truth is that I look like most people in the world—an actual human being with beautiful flaws.

Beneath the surface, we all have our broken places, and they help make us who we are. My life is a testament that if you really want to, you can turn pain not just into gold but also into joy to the world. We all know that the truest measure of wealth is not what we receive but what we give. And so I’ve started to give back to the community that gave me so much.

On a hot August day in 2012 I found myself right back where it all started for me in Atlanta, Georgia. My beautiful sister, Shedonna Alexander, and I were attending a groundbreaking ceremony for a greenhouse at the Southwest Atlanta Christian Academy—a place where I had caused no small amount of trouble as a child. But now I was back as co-founder, with my sister, of the nonprofit GreenHouse Foundation, which is dedicated to giving disadvantaged children access to “green” educations—and what better mission for a man who named himself “Green”? Shedonna runs the organization, which puts up greenhouses in underserved schools all over Atlanta so that kids can learn to grow their own food and take care of their environment. Basically, we’re going to do our best to try to help make the
Dirty South and our world a little cleaner, and we’re starting with kids because that’s how we all start.

Shedonna and I were motivated to try to fill the big shoes of two strong ladies who made our journeys possible—our late mother, Sheila Callaway Tyler, and our grandmother, Ruby Callaway Robinson, both of whom showed us the importance of community service in their own lives. This first greenhouse was dedicated in our mother’s name, and the Atlanta fire department presented us with a plaque in her honor. We knew that she was there in spirit that day. And thankfully, our grandmother, who had been sick for a while, surprised me and showed up in person. Seeing her out and about made me happier than any hit record ever could.

The mayor of Atlanta came for the groundbreaking, and so did Gipp, T-Mo, and Khujo. When I spoke to the crowd, I spoke from the heart, even though I was reading from my BlackBerry. “What a fantastic feeling to see so many familiar faces,” I said. “I hope I’ve made you laugh. I hope I’ve made you cry. I hope I’ve made you think. I hope I’ve made you wonder. I also hope that I am encouraging you today… It’s not just a thought, it’s an action.”

That’s why I wrote this book. To encourage you, whoever you are, however much a mutant you feel like, to take the actions to make your dreams come true. Dreaming came
naturally to me because the voices inside my head early on ushered me into a world of possibility. In my life, I had to get the common sense to listen to the right voices. That’s why on my right wrist I have a tattoo that says “Think.” And on my left wrist I have another tattoo that says “Twice.”

So until we meet again, I ask you to think twice, but dream big. That’s because whether the world recognizes it yet or not, there’s something beautiful in your voice, and you are and will always be the only one on Earth who can sing your song.

I promise passion! It pleases me to please the people I’m partial to. If time permits, I’m in two places at one time. Pieces of mind pulse with persistence, penetration. I can’t seem to pick. I want partners, not employees. Two beauties have become business professionals who have taken me personally… So is the prospect of polygamy possible? As long as I don’t have to divorce the idea, we have a deal. Thoughts?

My life isn’t over yet, but this book is.

So a loud “fuck you” to everyone who ever doubted that I would get this far. And an even louder “thank you” to everyone who helped me get this far, including my son, Kingston; my grandmother Ruby; my entire family; my brothers Big Gipp, Khujo, and T-Mo; Larry Mestel and my whole winning team at Primary Wave; Mark Burnett, NBC, and
The Voice
family; the tireless Meredith Smith and the whole team at the Creative Trust Literary Group; our brilliant editor Beth de Guzman and everyone at Grand Central Publishing; David Wild; and all of you out there in the world who took the time to buy and actually read my book. Thanks for sharing the Lo life for a while.

I will tell you this… the story isn’t over, there’s a lot more to come. Prepare for the next chapter of Lo!

THE MATRIARCH: My grandmother Ruby Callaway Robinson. She saw it all, and I’m so thankful she was always there for me.

THE MOTHER OF ALL MOTHERS: My mother, Sheila Jeanette Callaway, had a lot of strength in her, and, sadly, she would need every bit of it.

OH BROTHER, OH SISTER: My sister and I grew up together—okay at least she grew up.