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Check out this blog piece by Clutch Magazine writer Geneva S. Thomas directed to Steve Harvey about his ‘Joe for a quote’ persona now that he is mainstream in media. Please let us know what you think about the letter to Steve.

Dear Steve,

Wow. I almost feel like I should call you Mr. Harvey, you are twenty-six years my senior. But since we’ve become so intimately acquainted- you coaching me and my peers on how to find a man and all, I’ll just call you Steve.

My first memory of you was on the sitcom, Me and the Boys. A short-lived mid-90’s series, you played a single father parenting three sons on your own. Although not necessarily reflective of the true-to-life black family structure of prominently female-led homes, the show presented an obscured experience in popular culture– black fathers doing what they have to do, hard working and committed to raising their children. You became officially integrated into black Hollywood on WB’s “The Steve Harvey Show.” Portraying a high school music teacher, black America came to know your brand of coolness, a no non-sense mix of authenticity and humor. It was an everyday kind of comedy-you didn’t crack jokes, you simply told it like it was and we laughed.

In 2000, middle-aged black women everywhere fell for you. As a host in the acclaimed stand-up comedy film The Original Kings of Comedy, you hilariously declared your devotion to old school soul music. I can remember sitting in a crowded movie theater with my Mother, so saturated we had to sit in the third row. You were like this grand wizard taking viewers on the funkiest sonic time travel. Like a funny Don Cornelius, you introduced young Black America to tracks by Earth, Wind and Fire and Lenny Williams. For many of us, it like was a breezy nostalgia, driving in the car with our parents playing The Ohio Player’s “Heaven Must Be Like This” on the oldies station.

Instinctively becoming a champion for the old school way, you professed, “If you ain’t old school, you don’t really know what’s happening.” You transitioned into a distinctive new kind of black male comic. Undoubtedly a first, you became a maestro, sort of a crusader for the ‘back in the day.’ Hosting the BET Awards, presenting Lifetime Achievement honors to legends of our music’s past, you were one of our favorites. Never the cooning, cross-dressing comedian. You wouldn’t be caught dead tap dancing for anyone, certainly not white America.

Well Steve, 10 years later things have kind of changed you know? Many of us never imagined you become that chosen representative for all of black America. The kind of commentator, “joe-for-a-quote” routinely solicited by the media. The kind of media that will select you to “advise” black women in America and in the same breath will clown you for your seldom mispronunciation of words. I mean, we all believed in your talent. We knew you would evolve as a performer. Predictably in a Dick Gregory kind of way, but not like this.

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