I humbly admit, when it came to Karrine Steffans, I was one of the main ones listening to her detractors without further investigation. Having never read her books, having never met her, and having never bothered to ask questions, I cheered on the radio DJs and barbershop celebrities as they piled on the insults. I should have known better. As someone who has, in my professional and personal life, also been the victim of twisted half-truths and critics who refuse to tell the whole story, I should have been skeptical of the picture being painted of someone whom so many people (the opinions of most of which I never respected before) seem to hate. I wasn't, and for that, I owe her an apology.
So up pops my hometown on Karrine's calendar, and the opportunity to meet her in person finally presents itself. Through the heavy encouragement of someone who's opinion I do respect (she knows who she is), I join the crowd of 150, made modest by the close of a long day at the annual literary festival.
After a half hour of anticipation, in walks Ms. Steffans with a smile and a wave, and an aura that made her seem so much larger than her 4'11" petite frame. I was instantly enamored. Some say it was her beauty that clouded my thinking. That would be a fair, though hasty, conclusion. Karrine, no doubt, is extraordinarily beautiful - her flawlessly symmetrical face, adorned by flowing ebony hair, sits atop a perfectly sculpted, golden-hued body. However, it was more than that. Karrine has a way of, even when speaking to a crowd of several, locking into your eyes and communicating everything her well-chosen words cannot. Once we exchanged stares, nothing else needed to be said. She took me into her, and I felt all of her joy, pain, bliss, and sorrow. I now find it impossible to believe anyone who has ever spoken so viscerally about her has ever truly looked into her eyes.
After her talk ended (during which she also proved herself more intelligent than her detractors like to admit), I was able to corner her for a more intimate conversation. We exchanged contact information and promises to keep in touch. Never once did I detect a hint of entitlement, bitterness, or elitism.
In the days that followed, as I relayed this story to friends and colleagues, almost everyone's first instinct was to find fault with my positive judgment of Karrine. Then, when I pointed out to them that they too fell victim to the half-truths I once believed, the retort was usually, "Well, you can't expect everyone to go out their way to find out what she's really about." To which I answer, I don't. And neither does she (she's no fool; she is well aware of the source of her harshest criticism). All I am saying is I went out my way to find out what she is all about, and I have thus concluded that she is a beautiful person with a beautiful spirit.