Durham, NC - I'll start, not with that first solo release in October of 1971, but a few years earlier when Michael Jackson, a few weeks away from his 11th birthday, recorded his vocals for "Can You Remember." The song is easily forgotten, tucked away on the first Jackson Five album, the one that produced the hot single "I Want You Back."

Written by über producer Thom Bell and originally recorded by the Delfonics, "Can You Remember" is an obscurity even in the Philly Soul songbook. Much has been made about Michael's hard soul influences, from James Brown to Jackie Wilson. But apparently the kid also expressed some interest in the sweet music of Thom Bell and the sweeter vocals of William Hart, which partially explains why the Jackson Five recorded at least one Delfonics track on each on their first three albums, including "La-La-Means I Love You." Of course the group also looked towards the premier falsetto voice of Smokey Robinson and recorded a bunch of his tracks in those first few years, among them "Who's Lovin' You," the show-stopping B-side to "I Want You Back," and "Darling Dear," a personal favorite of mine.

But there was always something about those William Hart tracks, especially "Can You Remember." You can hear in young Michael's voice that earnestness that marked so many of those early recordings, but you also hear the nuances of a burgeoning archivist at work. So it was no surprise that when Michael was asked to step out on his own, he did so with the aplomb of a seasoned veteran, but with the heart of a child.

This aptly-titled collection using the two most dramatically rendered words in "Got To Be There," his solo debut ask us to remember a long forgotten time when a cherub-faced Michael Jackson was one of the most important figures in so many of our young lives.

Emerging at a historical moment when African-Americans in this country were achieving an unprecedented public presence in politics, business, education and the arts of which Motown was on the forefront Michael Jackson was, quite simply, the most famous African-American boy. Ever. For a community that often confronted a dearth of images of themselves in the public sphere, both positive and negative, the very sight of Michael Jackson on television was a powerful reflection of the social changes that were already in motion.

It would seem that much of young Mr. Jackson's appeal had little to do with the tenor of the times. There was a simple sweetness and innocence about him, even as the very Afros that he and his brothers grew were viewed with suspicion and apprehension in so many other social contexts.

It would be a lot to suggest that a young black boy from the city of Gary, Indiana deserves recognition for the easing of racial tensions in the early seventies, but when the young man galvanized an unprecedented audience of multi-cultural America a decade later, there is little question that for so many of us growing up on the Jackson Five, and not immediately privy to the bitter racial disputes of our parents and grandparents, Michael Jackson was a sign of possibilities.

As one those little black boys watching Michael strut his stuff, I had more immediate concerns. Like Ralph Carter, the boy actor who showed up weekly on television's Good Times as little Michael Evans, Michael Jackson provided clues as to how to imagine myself in the world. Far too few of us will admit it now, but for many of us Michael Jackson was the template for our burgeoning black boyhoods.

The soulful tilt of the applejack hat, the man-child sassiness, the natty mod-dress and, of course, the dance moves all became part of our boyhood repertoire. Indeed even my first stabs at romance included Michael as I often would send love notes to some lovely with lyrics to some of my favorites songs from Michael, especially stuff like "Girl Don't Take Your Love From Me" and "Got To Be There" from that first solo album. I know I wasn't the only one.