(no subject)
I normally don't say much when it comes to the death of a celebrity because for the most part, while I am sad they died, they weren't of huge significance to me. Of course, I recognize their talent is no longer there, and think it unfortunate. This is not the case with Micheal Jackson.
I loved him when I was little. I never trash talked him, even though my best childhood friend made fun of me for liking him. I never spoke against those who did say rude things, and may have laughed at a joke or two. But my fondness for him was sincere and always preset.
As a small child I attended an almost all black school. It was difficult being the one white girl in kindergarten, but I adjusted and helped others adjust because I listened to the message in Micheal's music.
I had his ET poster on my bedroom door. I used to talk to that poster when my uncle would hit me or scare me at night. Micheal was truly my first crush. And I remember when "Black or White" was world premiering at an awards show that Miss Katherine came to say hi to my Grandpa (who was black, and also grew up in Gary). And my Grandpa was crazy about Micheal, and in some ways they're the same person to me - as strange as that may sound. So it feels like the last few remaining memories of my Grandpa have died with him. It's more than I liked his music, more than it was popular at the time. It was listening to him with my grandpa, listening to stories of the Jackson family from his mouth while he smoked a cigar, listening to him and getting along with my uncle for a change - because Micheal was all about bringing people together.
Micheal presented an easy target for ridicule. Anybody who talks about ending hunger, world peace, innocence and love of all kinds is immediately labeled a sissy. A grown man even more so. But so few people are given the opportunity to actually do something about it - and he did. Every day he utilized it. Even though he had such a difficult life, he was still able to believe in and preach the importance of love. I hardly know anyone, even those who are blessed with an easy life, who do. He was fearless.
Yet he was constantly pressured to apologize for his edgeyness (I'm speaking of the record industry obviously). Looking back now, it seems kind of silly. But that's just because now there are so many imitators, so many people pushing the edge of what is acceptable or cool that we've become desensitized. (Unfortunately, I think we've become desensitized to true talent as well). But truly, he broke down boundaries in more ways than I imagine folks can comprehend. Race and poverty obviously being the biggest and well known.
I find it sad that people believed the headlines, despite that he was acquitted. Made fun of for a legitimate skin disease, vitiligo, and for the body dysmorphic disorder he clearly suffered from. It's not easy when your body betrays you. I can very clearly understand how that can make you feel helpless and ugly. I can't even imagine being under constant watch while going through it. And then feeding that hate, whether it stemmed from hate of his father or just the constant ridicule and pressure of being a child star, to change a body part to such an extreme. It isn't material for fodder and it isn't acceptable because he's a celebrity.
I still don't understand the public's relationship with celebrities. We love them, but we love to hate and destroy them more. I imagine part of that stems from our nature. A mixture of jealousy and insecurity, and a strange desire to see beautiful or pure things destroyed.
Micheal had amassed such a level of fame and at such a young age and throughout his life that like all things in the celebrity world, it turned into something that people treated more akin to a freak show. Yet he still managed to be a loving father. All this, plus his clear abundance of talent as a singer, dancer, composer and probably a better human being than most people will ever know, come to me as unfathomable and awe inspiring.
It also comes to me as a tragedy. He was a constant in my life. It's hard to look at Mr. Jackson before he passed because he wore constant heavy makeup due to the skin disease, suffered a debilitating form of lupus, and had hardly a nose left. But I can't dwell on those things because he still was talented. I really wanted to see things stop for a day, so fans (through 3 or more generations) could mourn, let the fact sink in. When Lennon died, when Elvis died, when Kurt died - we collectively halted what we did and mourned. But people are ridiculed for doing it for him, the first international super star, who musicians even today can't top. Well, I am mourning. I am still mourning a week later. I have to rebury the memory of my grandfather, I have to bury part of my childhood (and a good part, at that), and now those who ridicule him are asking me to bury my grief in shame due to popular opinion. I won't.
I may go to Gary to see his old house. I've always wanted to, even if he didn't have fond memories of the place. He was my first crush, and helped me understand just how much I loved music.
Click to viewAnd this is what finally made me cry about it. I've been fighting not to all week.